_ I am neither
confessor
nor notary,
So cannot say.
So cannot say.
Byron
and leave my name
Linked with the Hungarian's, or, preferred as poorest,
To bear the brand of bloodshed?
_Ulr. _ Pshaw! leave any thing
Except our fathers' sovereignty and castles, 120
For which you have so long panted, and in vain!
What _name? _ You have _no name_, since that you bear
Is feigned.
_Wer. _ Most true: but still I would not have it
Engraved in crimson in men's memories,
Though in this most obscure abode of men----
Besides, the search----
_Ulr. _ I will provide against
Aught that can touch you. No one knows you here
As heir of Siegendorf: if Idenstein
Suspects, 'tis _but suspicion_, and he is
A fool: his folly shall have such employment, 130
Too, that the unknown Werner shall give way
To nearer thoughts of self. The laws (if e'er
Laws reached this village) are all in abeyance
With the late general war of thirty years,
Or crushed, or rising slowly from the dust,
To which the march of armies trampled them.
Stralenheim, although noble, is unheeded
_Here_, save as _such_--without lands, influence,
Save what hath perished with him. Few prolong
A week beyond their funeral rites their sway 140
O'er men, unless by relatives, whose interest
Is roused: such is not here the case; he died
Alone, unknown,--a solitary grave,
Obscure as his deserts, without a scutcheon,
Is all he'll have, or wants. If _I_ discover
The assassin, 'twill be well--if not, believe me,
None else; though all the full-fed train of menials
May howl above his ashes (as they did
Around him in his danger on the Oder),
Will no more stir a finger _now_ than _then_. 150
Hence! hence! I must not hear your answer. --Look!
The stars are almost faded, and the grey
Begins to grizzle the black hair of night.
You shall not answer:--Pardon me that I
Am peremptory: 'tis your son that speaks,
Your long-lost, late-found son. --Let's call my mother!
Softly and swiftly step, and leave the rest
To me: I'll answer for the event as far
As regards _you_, and that is the chief point,
As my first duty, which shall be observed. 160
We'll meet in Castle Siegendorf--once more
Our banners shall be glorious! Think of that
Alone, and leave all other thoughts to me,
Whose youth may better battle with them--Hence!
And may your age be happy! --I will kiss
My mother once more, then Heaven's speed be with you!
_Wer. _ This counsel's safe--but is it honourable?
_Ulr. _ To save a father is a child's chief honour.
[_Exeunt_.
ACT IV.
SCENE I. --_A Gothic Hall in the Castle of Siegendorf, near Prague_.
_Enter_ ERIC _and_ HENRICK, _Retainers of the Count_.
_Eric_. So, better times are come at last; to these
Old walls new masters and high wassail--both
A long desideratum.
_Hen. _ Yes, for _masters_,
It might be unto those who long for novelty,
Though made by a new grave: but, as for wassail,
Methinks the old Count Siegendorf maintained
His feudal hospitality as high
As e'er another Prince of the empire.
_Eric_. Why
For the mere cup and trencher, we no doubt
Fared passing well; but as for merriment 10
And sport, without which salt and sauces season
The cheer but scantily, our sizings were
Even of the narrowest.
_Hen. _ The old count loved not
The roar of revel; are you sure that _this_ does?
_Eric_. As yet he hath been courteous as he's bounteous,
And we all love him.
_Hen. _ His reign is as yet
Hardly a year o'erpast its honeymoon,
And the first year of sovereigns is bridal:
Anon, we shall perceive his real sway
And moods of mind.
_Eric_. Pray Heaven he keep the present! 20
Then his brave son, Count Ulric--there's a knight!
Pity the wars are o'er!
_Hen. _ Why so?
_Eric_. Look on him!
And answer that yourself.
_Hen. _ He's very youthful,
And strong and beautiful as a young tiger.
_Eric_. That's not a faithful vassal's likeness.
_Hen. _ But
Perhaps a true one.
_Eric_. Pity, as I said,
The wars are over: in the hall, who like
Count Ulric for a well-supported pride,
Which awes, but yet offends not? in the field,
Who like him with his spear in hand, when gnashing 30
His tusks, and ripping up, from right to left,
The howling hounds, the boar makes for the thicket?
Who backs a horse, or bears a hawk, or wears
A sword like him? Whose plume nods knightlier?
_Hen. _ No one's, I grant you. Do not fear, if war
Be long in coming, he is of that kind
Will make it for himself, if he hath not
Already done as much.
_Eric_. What do you mean?
_Hen. _ You can't deny his train of followers
(But few our native fellow-vassals born 40
On the domain) are such a sort of knaves
As---- [_Pauses_.
_Eric_. What?
_Hen. _ The war (you love so much) leaves living.
Like other parents, she spoils her worst children.
_Eric_. Nonsense! they are all brave iron-visaged fellows,
Such as old Tilly loved.
_Hen. _ And who loved Tilly?
Ask that at Magdebourg[194]--or, for that matter,
Wallenstein either;--they are gone to----
_Eric_. Rest!
But what beyond 'tis not ours to pronounce.
_Hen. _ I wish they had left us something of their rest:
The country (nominally now at peace) 50
Is over-run with--God knows who: they fly
By night, and disappear with sunrise; but
Leave us no less desolation, nay, even more,
Than the most open warfare.
_Eric_. But Count Ulric--
What has all this to do with him?
_Hen. _ With him!
He----might prevent it. As you say he's fond
Of war, why makes he it not on those marauders?
_Eric_. You'd better ask himself.
_Hen. _ I would as soon
Ask the lion why he laps not milk.
_Eric_. And here he comes!
_Hen. _ The devil! you'll hold your tongue? 60
_Eric_. Why do you turn so pale?
_Hen. _ 'Tis nothing--but
Be silent.
_Eric_. I will, upon what you have said.
_Hen. _ I assure you I meant nothing,--a mere sport
Of words, no more; besides, had it been otherwise,
He is to espouse the gentle Baroness
Ida of Stralenheim, the late Baron's heiress;
And she, no doubt, will soften whatsoever
Of fierceness the late long intestine wars
Have given all natures, and most unto those
Who were born in them, and bred up upon 70
The knees of Homicide; sprinkled, as it were,
With blood even at their baptism. Prithee, peace
On all that I have said!
_Enter_ ULRIC _and_ RODOLPH.
Good morrow, count.
_Ulr. _ Good morrow, worthy Henrick. Eric, is
All ready for the chase?
_Eric_. The dogs are ordered
Down to the forest, and the vassals out
To beat the bushes, and the day looks promising.
Shall I call forth your Excellency's suite?
What courser will you please to mount?
_Ulr. _ The dun,
Walstein.
_Eric_. I fear he scarcely has recovered 80
The toils of Monday: 'twas a noble chase:
You speared _four_ with your own hand.
_Ulr. _ True, good Eric;
I had forgotten--let it be the grey, then,
Old Ziska: he has not been out this fortnight.
_Eric_. He shall be straight caparisoned. How many
Of your immediate retainers shall
Escort you?
_Ulr. _ I leave that to Weilburgh, our
Master of the horse. [_Exit_ ERIC.
Rodolph!
_Rod. _ My Lord!
_Ulr. _ The news
Is awkward from the---- [RODOLPH _points to_ HENRICK.
How now, Henrick? why
Loiter you here?
_Hen. _ For your commands, my Lord. 90
_Ulr. _ Go to my father, and present my duty,
And learn if he would aught with me before
I mount. [_Exit_ HENRICK.
Rodolph, our friends have had a check
Upon the frontiers of Franconia[195], and
'Tis rumoured that the column sent against them
Is to be strengthened. I must join them soon.
_Rod. _ Best wait for further and more sure advices.
_Ulr. _ I mean it--and indeed it could not well
Have fallen out at a time more opposite
To all my plans.
_Rod. _ It will be difficult 100
To excuse your absence to the Count your father.
_Ulr. _ Yes, but the unsettled state of our domain
In high Silesia will permit and cover
My journey. In the mean time, when we are
Engaged in the chase, draw off the eighty men
Whom Wolffe leads--keep the forests on your route:
You know it well?
_Rod. _ As well as on that night
When we----
_Ulr. _ We will not speak of that until
We can repeat the same with like success:
And when you have joined, give Rosenberg this letter. 110
[_Gives a letter_.
Add further, that I have sent this slight addition
To our force with you and Wolffe, as herald of
My coming, though I could but spare them ill
At this time, as my father loves to keep
Full numbers of retainers round the castle,
Until this marriage, and its feasts and fooleries,
Are rung out with its peal of nuptial nonsense.
_Rod. _ I thought you loved the lady Ida?
_Ulr. _ Why,
I do so--but it follows not from that
I would bind in my youth and glorious years, 120
So brief and burning, with a lady's zone,
Although 'twere that of Venus:--but I love her,
As woman should be loved--fairly and solely.
_Rod. _ And constantly?
_Ulr. _ I think so; for I love
Nought else. --But I have not the time to pause
Upon these gewgaws of the heart. Great things
We have to do ere long. Speed! speed! good Rodolph!
_Rod. _ On my return, however, I shall find
The Baroness Ida lost in Countess Siegendorf?
_Ulr. _ Perhaps: my father wishes it, and, sooth, 130
'Tis no bad policy: this union with
The last bud of the rival branch at once
Unites the future and destroys the past.
_Rod. _ Adieu.
_Ulr. _ Yet hold--we had better keep together
Until the chase begins; then draw thou off,
And do as I have said.
_Rod. _ I will. But to
Return--'twas a most kind act in the count
Your father to send up to Konigsberg
For this fair orphan of the Baron, and
To hail her as his daughter.
_Ulr. _ Wondrous kind! 140
Especially as little kindness till
Then grew between them.
_Rod. _ The late Baron died
Of a fever, did he not?
_Ulr. _ How should I know?
_Rod. _ I have heard it whispered there was something strange
About his death--and even the place of it
Is scarcely known.
_Ulr. _ Some obscure village on
The Saxon or Silesian frontier.
_Rod. _ He
Has left no testament--no farewell words?
_Ulr.
_ I am neither confessor nor notary,
So cannot say.
_Rod. _ Ah! here's the lady Ida. 150
_Enter_ IDA STRALENHEIM.
_Ulr. _ You are early, my sweet cousin!
_Ida. _ Not _too_ early,
Dear Ulric, if I do not interrupt you.
Why do you call me "_Cousin? _"
_Ulr. _ (_smiling_). Are we not so?
_Ida. _ Yes, but I do not like the name; methinks
It sounds so cold, as if you thought upon
Our pedigree, and only weighed our blood.
_Ulr. _ (_starting_). Blood!
_Ida. _ Why does yours start from your cheeks?
_Ulr. _ Aye! doth it?
_Ida. _ It doth--but no! it rushes like a torrent
Even to your brow again.
_Ulr. _ (_recovering himself_). And if it fled,
It only was because your presence sent it 160
Back to my heart, which beats for you, sweet Cousin!
_Ida. _ "Cousin" again.
_Ulr. _ Nay, then, I'll call you sister.
_Ida. _ I like that name still worse. --Would we had ne'er
Been aught of kindred!
_Ulr. _ (_gloomily_). Would we never had!
_Ida. _ Oh, heavens! and can _you wish that? _
_Ulr. _ Dearest Ida!
Did I not echo your own wish?
_Ida. _ Yes, Ulric,
But then I wished it not with such a glance,
And scarce knew what I said; but let me be
Sister, or cousin, what you will, so that
I still to you am something.
_Ulr. _ You shall be 170
All--all----
_Ida. _ And you to _me are_ so already;
But I can wait.
_Ulr. _ Dear Ida!
_Ida. _ Call me Ida,
_Your_ Ida, for I would be yours, none else's--
Indeed I have none else left, since my poor father--
[_She pauses_.
_Ulr. _ You have _mine_--you have _me_.
_Ida. _ Dear Ulric, how I wish
My father could but view my happiness,
Which wants but this!
_Ulr. _ Indeed!
_Ida. _ You would have loved him,
He you; for the brave ever love each other:
His manner was a little cold, his spirit
Proud (as is birth's prerogative); but under 180
This grave exterior----Would you had known each other!
Had such as you been near him on his journey,
He had not died without a friend to soothe
His last and lonely moments.
_Ulr. _ Who says _that? _
_Ida. _ What?
_Ulr. _ That he _died alone_.
_Ida. _ The general rumour,
And disappearance of his servants, who
Have ne'er returned: that fever was most deadly
Which swept them all away.
_Ulr. _ If they were near him,
He could not die neglected or alone.
_Ida. _ Alas! what is a menial to a death-bed, 190
When the dim eye rolls vainly round for what
It loves? --They say he died of a fever.
_Ulr. _ _Say! _
It _was_ so.
_Ida. _ I sometimes dream otherwise.
_Ulr. _ All dreams are false.
_Ida. _ And yet I see him as
I see you.
_Ulr. _ _Where? _
_Ida. _ In sleep--I see him lie
Pale, bleeding, and a man with a raised knife
Beside him.
_Ulr. _ But you do not see his _face? _
_Ida_ (_looking at him_). No! Oh, my God! do _you? _
_Ulr. _ Why do you ask?
_Ida. _ Because you look as if you saw a murderer!
_Ulr. _ (_agitatedly_).
Ida, this is mere childishness; your weakness 200
Infects me, to my shame: but as all feelings
Of yours are common to me, it affects me.
Prithee, sweet child, change----
_Ida. _ Child, indeed! I have
Full fifteen summers! [_A bugle sounds_.
_Rod. _ Hark, my Lord, the bugle!
_Ida_ (_peevishly to_ RODOLPH).
Why need you tell him that? Can he not hear it
Without your echo?
_Rod. _ Pardon me, fair Baroness!
_Ida. _ I will not pardon you, unless you earn it
By aiding me in my dissuasion of
Count Ulric from the chase to-day.
_Rod. _ You will not,
Lady, need aid of mine.
_Ulr. _ I must not now 210
Forgo it.
_Ida. _ But you shall!
_Ulr. _ _Shall! _
_Ida. _ Yes, or be
No true knight. --Come, dear Ulric! yield to me
In this, for this one day: the day looks heavy,
And you are turned so pale and ill.
_Ulr. _ You jest.
_Ida. _ Indeed I do not:--ask of Rodolph.
_Rod. _ Truly,
My Lord, within this quarter of an hour
You have changed more than e'er I saw you change
In years.
_Ulr. _ 'Tis nothing; but if 'twere, the air
Would soon restore me. I'm the true cameleon,
And live but on the atmosphere;[196] your feasts 220
In castle halls, and social banquets, nurse not
My spirit--I'm a forester and breather
Of the steep mountain-tops,[197] where I love all
The eagle loves.
_Ida. _ Except his prey, I hope.
_Ulr. _ Sweet Ida, wish me a fair chase, and I
Will bring you six boars' heads for trophies home.
_Ida. _ And will you not stay, then? You shall not go!
Come! I will sing to you.
_Ulr. _ Ida, you scarcely
Will make a soldier's wife.
_Ida. _ I do not wish
To be so; for I trust these wars are over, 230
And you will live in peace on your domains.
_Enter_ WERNER _as_ COUNT SIEGENDORF.
_Ulr. _ My father, I salute you, and it grieves me
With such brief greeting. --You have heard our bugle;
The vassals wait.
_Sieg. _ So let them. --You forget
To-morrow is the appointed festival
In Prague[198] for peace restored. You are apt to follow
The chase with such an ardour as will scarce
Permit you to return to-day, or if
Returned, too much fatigued to join to-morrow
The nobles in our marshalled ranks.
_Ulr. _ You, Count, 240
Will well supply the place of both--I am not
A lover of these pageantries.
_Sieg. _ No, Ulric;
It were not well that you alone of all
Our young nobility----
_Ida. _ And far the noblest
In aspect and demeanour.
_Sieg. _ (_to_ IDA). True, dear child,
Though somewhat frankly said for a fair damsel. --
But, Ulric, recollect too our position,
So lately reinstated in our honours.
Believe me, 'twould be marked in any house,
But most in _ours_, that ONE should be found wanting 250
At such a time and place. Besides, the Heaven
Which gave us back our own, in the same moment
It spread its peace o'er all, hath double claims
On us for thanksgiving: first, for our country;
And next, that we are here to share its blessings.
_Ulr. _ (_aside_). Devout, too! Well, sir, I obey at once.
(_Then aloud to a servant_. )
Ludwig, dismiss the train without!
[_Exit_ LUDWIG.
_Ida. _ And so
You yield, at once, to him what I for hours
Might supplicate in vain.
_Sieg. _ (_smiling_). You are not jealous
Of me, I trust, my pretty rebel! who 260
Would sanction disobedience against all
Except thyself? But fear not; thou shalt rule him
Hereafter with a fonder sway and firmer.
_Ida. _ But I should like to govern _now_.
_Sieg. _ You shall,
Your _harp_, which by the way awaits you with
The Countess in her chamber. She complains
That you are a sad truant to your music:
She attends you.
_Ida. _ Then good morrow, my kind kinsmen!
Ulric, you'll come and hear me?
_Ulr. _ By and by.
_Ida. _ Be sure I'll sound it better than your bugles; 270
Then pray you be as punctual to its notes:
I'll play you King Gustavus' march.
_Ulr. _ And why not
Old Tilly's?
_Ida. _ Not that monster's! I should think
My harp-strings rang with groans, and not with music,
Could aught of _his_ sound on it:--but come quickly;
Your mother will be eager to receive you. [_Exit_ IDA.
Linked with the Hungarian's, or, preferred as poorest,
To bear the brand of bloodshed?
_Ulr. _ Pshaw! leave any thing
Except our fathers' sovereignty and castles, 120
For which you have so long panted, and in vain!
What _name? _ You have _no name_, since that you bear
Is feigned.
_Wer. _ Most true: but still I would not have it
Engraved in crimson in men's memories,
Though in this most obscure abode of men----
Besides, the search----
_Ulr. _ I will provide against
Aught that can touch you. No one knows you here
As heir of Siegendorf: if Idenstein
Suspects, 'tis _but suspicion_, and he is
A fool: his folly shall have such employment, 130
Too, that the unknown Werner shall give way
To nearer thoughts of self. The laws (if e'er
Laws reached this village) are all in abeyance
With the late general war of thirty years,
Or crushed, or rising slowly from the dust,
To which the march of armies trampled them.
Stralenheim, although noble, is unheeded
_Here_, save as _such_--without lands, influence,
Save what hath perished with him. Few prolong
A week beyond their funeral rites their sway 140
O'er men, unless by relatives, whose interest
Is roused: such is not here the case; he died
Alone, unknown,--a solitary grave,
Obscure as his deserts, without a scutcheon,
Is all he'll have, or wants. If _I_ discover
The assassin, 'twill be well--if not, believe me,
None else; though all the full-fed train of menials
May howl above his ashes (as they did
Around him in his danger on the Oder),
Will no more stir a finger _now_ than _then_. 150
Hence! hence! I must not hear your answer. --Look!
The stars are almost faded, and the grey
Begins to grizzle the black hair of night.
You shall not answer:--Pardon me that I
Am peremptory: 'tis your son that speaks,
Your long-lost, late-found son. --Let's call my mother!
Softly and swiftly step, and leave the rest
To me: I'll answer for the event as far
As regards _you_, and that is the chief point,
As my first duty, which shall be observed. 160
We'll meet in Castle Siegendorf--once more
Our banners shall be glorious! Think of that
Alone, and leave all other thoughts to me,
Whose youth may better battle with them--Hence!
And may your age be happy! --I will kiss
My mother once more, then Heaven's speed be with you!
_Wer. _ This counsel's safe--but is it honourable?
_Ulr. _ To save a father is a child's chief honour.
[_Exeunt_.
ACT IV.
SCENE I. --_A Gothic Hall in the Castle of Siegendorf, near Prague_.
_Enter_ ERIC _and_ HENRICK, _Retainers of the Count_.
_Eric_. So, better times are come at last; to these
Old walls new masters and high wassail--both
A long desideratum.
_Hen. _ Yes, for _masters_,
It might be unto those who long for novelty,
Though made by a new grave: but, as for wassail,
Methinks the old Count Siegendorf maintained
His feudal hospitality as high
As e'er another Prince of the empire.
_Eric_. Why
For the mere cup and trencher, we no doubt
Fared passing well; but as for merriment 10
And sport, without which salt and sauces season
The cheer but scantily, our sizings were
Even of the narrowest.
_Hen. _ The old count loved not
The roar of revel; are you sure that _this_ does?
_Eric_. As yet he hath been courteous as he's bounteous,
And we all love him.
_Hen. _ His reign is as yet
Hardly a year o'erpast its honeymoon,
And the first year of sovereigns is bridal:
Anon, we shall perceive his real sway
And moods of mind.
_Eric_. Pray Heaven he keep the present! 20
Then his brave son, Count Ulric--there's a knight!
Pity the wars are o'er!
_Hen. _ Why so?
_Eric_. Look on him!
And answer that yourself.
_Hen. _ He's very youthful,
And strong and beautiful as a young tiger.
_Eric_. That's not a faithful vassal's likeness.
_Hen. _ But
Perhaps a true one.
_Eric_. Pity, as I said,
The wars are over: in the hall, who like
Count Ulric for a well-supported pride,
Which awes, but yet offends not? in the field,
Who like him with his spear in hand, when gnashing 30
His tusks, and ripping up, from right to left,
The howling hounds, the boar makes for the thicket?
Who backs a horse, or bears a hawk, or wears
A sword like him? Whose plume nods knightlier?
_Hen. _ No one's, I grant you. Do not fear, if war
Be long in coming, he is of that kind
Will make it for himself, if he hath not
Already done as much.
_Eric_. What do you mean?
_Hen. _ You can't deny his train of followers
(But few our native fellow-vassals born 40
On the domain) are such a sort of knaves
As---- [_Pauses_.
_Eric_. What?
_Hen. _ The war (you love so much) leaves living.
Like other parents, she spoils her worst children.
_Eric_. Nonsense! they are all brave iron-visaged fellows,
Such as old Tilly loved.
_Hen. _ And who loved Tilly?
Ask that at Magdebourg[194]--or, for that matter,
Wallenstein either;--they are gone to----
_Eric_. Rest!
But what beyond 'tis not ours to pronounce.
_Hen. _ I wish they had left us something of their rest:
The country (nominally now at peace) 50
Is over-run with--God knows who: they fly
By night, and disappear with sunrise; but
Leave us no less desolation, nay, even more,
Than the most open warfare.
_Eric_. But Count Ulric--
What has all this to do with him?
_Hen. _ With him!
He----might prevent it. As you say he's fond
Of war, why makes he it not on those marauders?
_Eric_. You'd better ask himself.
_Hen. _ I would as soon
Ask the lion why he laps not milk.
_Eric_. And here he comes!
_Hen. _ The devil! you'll hold your tongue? 60
_Eric_. Why do you turn so pale?
_Hen. _ 'Tis nothing--but
Be silent.
_Eric_. I will, upon what you have said.
_Hen. _ I assure you I meant nothing,--a mere sport
Of words, no more; besides, had it been otherwise,
He is to espouse the gentle Baroness
Ida of Stralenheim, the late Baron's heiress;
And she, no doubt, will soften whatsoever
Of fierceness the late long intestine wars
Have given all natures, and most unto those
Who were born in them, and bred up upon 70
The knees of Homicide; sprinkled, as it were,
With blood even at their baptism. Prithee, peace
On all that I have said!
_Enter_ ULRIC _and_ RODOLPH.
Good morrow, count.
_Ulr. _ Good morrow, worthy Henrick. Eric, is
All ready for the chase?
_Eric_. The dogs are ordered
Down to the forest, and the vassals out
To beat the bushes, and the day looks promising.
Shall I call forth your Excellency's suite?
What courser will you please to mount?
_Ulr. _ The dun,
Walstein.
_Eric_. I fear he scarcely has recovered 80
The toils of Monday: 'twas a noble chase:
You speared _four_ with your own hand.
_Ulr. _ True, good Eric;
I had forgotten--let it be the grey, then,
Old Ziska: he has not been out this fortnight.
_Eric_. He shall be straight caparisoned. How many
Of your immediate retainers shall
Escort you?
_Ulr. _ I leave that to Weilburgh, our
Master of the horse. [_Exit_ ERIC.
Rodolph!
_Rod. _ My Lord!
_Ulr. _ The news
Is awkward from the---- [RODOLPH _points to_ HENRICK.
How now, Henrick? why
Loiter you here?
_Hen. _ For your commands, my Lord. 90
_Ulr. _ Go to my father, and present my duty,
And learn if he would aught with me before
I mount. [_Exit_ HENRICK.
Rodolph, our friends have had a check
Upon the frontiers of Franconia[195], and
'Tis rumoured that the column sent against them
Is to be strengthened. I must join them soon.
_Rod. _ Best wait for further and more sure advices.
_Ulr. _ I mean it--and indeed it could not well
Have fallen out at a time more opposite
To all my plans.
_Rod. _ It will be difficult 100
To excuse your absence to the Count your father.
_Ulr. _ Yes, but the unsettled state of our domain
In high Silesia will permit and cover
My journey. In the mean time, when we are
Engaged in the chase, draw off the eighty men
Whom Wolffe leads--keep the forests on your route:
You know it well?
_Rod. _ As well as on that night
When we----
_Ulr. _ We will not speak of that until
We can repeat the same with like success:
And when you have joined, give Rosenberg this letter. 110
[_Gives a letter_.
Add further, that I have sent this slight addition
To our force with you and Wolffe, as herald of
My coming, though I could but spare them ill
At this time, as my father loves to keep
Full numbers of retainers round the castle,
Until this marriage, and its feasts and fooleries,
Are rung out with its peal of nuptial nonsense.
_Rod. _ I thought you loved the lady Ida?
_Ulr. _ Why,
I do so--but it follows not from that
I would bind in my youth and glorious years, 120
So brief and burning, with a lady's zone,
Although 'twere that of Venus:--but I love her,
As woman should be loved--fairly and solely.
_Rod. _ And constantly?
_Ulr. _ I think so; for I love
Nought else. --But I have not the time to pause
Upon these gewgaws of the heart. Great things
We have to do ere long. Speed! speed! good Rodolph!
_Rod. _ On my return, however, I shall find
The Baroness Ida lost in Countess Siegendorf?
_Ulr. _ Perhaps: my father wishes it, and, sooth, 130
'Tis no bad policy: this union with
The last bud of the rival branch at once
Unites the future and destroys the past.
_Rod. _ Adieu.
_Ulr. _ Yet hold--we had better keep together
Until the chase begins; then draw thou off,
And do as I have said.
_Rod. _ I will. But to
Return--'twas a most kind act in the count
Your father to send up to Konigsberg
For this fair orphan of the Baron, and
To hail her as his daughter.
_Ulr. _ Wondrous kind! 140
Especially as little kindness till
Then grew between them.
_Rod. _ The late Baron died
Of a fever, did he not?
_Ulr. _ How should I know?
_Rod. _ I have heard it whispered there was something strange
About his death--and even the place of it
Is scarcely known.
_Ulr. _ Some obscure village on
The Saxon or Silesian frontier.
_Rod. _ He
Has left no testament--no farewell words?
_Ulr.
_ I am neither confessor nor notary,
So cannot say.
_Rod. _ Ah! here's the lady Ida. 150
_Enter_ IDA STRALENHEIM.
_Ulr. _ You are early, my sweet cousin!
_Ida. _ Not _too_ early,
Dear Ulric, if I do not interrupt you.
Why do you call me "_Cousin? _"
_Ulr. _ (_smiling_). Are we not so?
_Ida. _ Yes, but I do not like the name; methinks
It sounds so cold, as if you thought upon
Our pedigree, and only weighed our blood.
_Ulr. _ (_starting_). Blood!
_Ida. _ Why does yours start from your cheeks?
_Ulr. _ Aye! doth it?
_Ida. _ It doth--but no! it rushes like a torrent
Even to your brow again.
_Ulr. _ (_recovering himself_). And if it fled,
It only was because your presence sent it 160
Back to my heart, which beats for you, sweet Cousin!
_Ida. _ "Cousin" again.
_Ulr. _ Nay, then, I'll call you sister.
_Ida. _ I like that name still worse. --Would we had ne'er
Been aught of kindred!
_Ulr. _ (_gloomily_). Would we never had!
_Ida. _ Oh, heavens! and can _you wish that? _
_Ulr. _ Dearest Ida!
Did I not echo your own wish?
_Ida. _ Yes, Ulric,
But then I wished it not with such a glance,
And scarce knew what I said; but let me be
Sister, or cousin, what you will, so that
I still to you am something.
_Ulr. _ You shall be 170
All--all----
_Ida. _ And you to _me are_ so already;
But I can wait.
_Ulr. _ Dear Ida!
_Ida. _ Call me Ida,
_Your_ Ida, for I would be yours, none else's--
Indeed I have none else left, since my poor father--
[_She pauses_.
_Ulr. _ You have _mine_--you have _me_.
_Ida. _ Dear Ulric, how I wish
My father could but view my happiness,
Which wants but this!
_Ulr. _ Indeed!
_Ida. _ You would have loved him,
He you; for the brave ever love each other:
His manner was a little cold, his spirit
Proud (as is birth's prerogative); but under 180
This grave exterior----Would you had known each other!
Had such as you been near him on his journey,
He had not died without a friend to soothe
His last and lonely moments.
_Ulr. _ Who says _that? _
_Ida. _ What?
_Ulr. _ That he _died alone_.
_Ida. _ The general rumour,
And disappearance of his servants, who
Have ne'er returned: that fever was most deadly
Which swept them all away.
_Ulr. _ If they were near him,
He could not die neglected or alone.
_Ida. _ Alas! what is a menial to a death-bed, 190
When the dim eye rolls vainly round for what
It loves? --They say he died of a fever.
_Ulr. _ _Say! _
It _was_ so.
_Ida. _ I sometimes dream otherwise.
_Ulr. _ All dreams are false.
_Ida. _ And yet I see him as
I see you.
_Ulr. _ _Where? _
_Ida. _ In sleep--I see him lie
Pale, bleeding, and a man with a raised knife
Beside him.
_Ulr. _ But you do not see his _face? _
_Ida_ (_looking at him_). No! Oh, my God! do _you? _
_Ulr. _ Why do you ask?
_Ida. _ Because you look as if you saw a murderer!
_Ulr. _ (_agitatedly_).
Ida, this is mere childishness; your weakness 200
Infects me, to my shame: but as all feelings
Of yours are common to me, it affects me.
Prithee, sweet child, change----
_Ida. _ Child, indeed! I have
Full fifteen summers! [_A bugle sounds_.
_Rod. _ Hark, my Lord, the bugle!
_Ida_ (_peevishly to_ RODOLPH).
Why need you tell him that? Can he not hear it
Without your echo?
_Rod. _ Pardon me, fair Baroness!
_Ida. _ I will not pardon you, unless you earn it
By aiding me in my dissuasion of
Count Ulric from the chase to-day.
_Rod. _ You will not,
Lady, need aid of mine.
_Ulr. _ I must not now 210
Forgo it.
_Ida. _ But you shall!
_Ulr. _ _Shall! _
_Ida. _ Yes, or be
No true knight. --Come, dear Ulric! yield to me
In this, for this one day: the day looks heavy,
And you are turned so pale and ill.
_Ulr. _ You jest.
_Ida. _ Indeed I do not:--ask of Rodolph.
_Rod. _ Truly,
My Lord, within this quarter of an hour
You have changed more than e'er I saw you change
In years.
_Ulr. _ 'Tis nothing; but if 'twere, the air
Would soon restore me. I'm the true cameleon,
And live but on the atmosphere;[196] your feasts 220
In castle halls, and social banquets, nurse not
My spirit--I'm a forester and breather
Of the steep mountain-tops,[197] where I love all
The eagle loves.
_Ida. _ Except his prey, I hope.
_Ulr. _ Sweet Ida, wish me a fair chase, and I
Will bring you six boars' heads for trophies home.
_Ida. _ And will you not stay, then? You shall not go!
Come! I will sing to you.
_Ulr. _ Ida, you scarcely
Will make a soldier's wife.
_Ida. _ I do not wish
To be so; for I trust these wars are over, 230
And you will live in peace on your domains.
_Enter_ WERNER _as_ COUNT SIEGENDORF.
_Ulr. _ My father, I salute you, and it grieves me
With such brief greeting. --You have heard our bugle;
The vassals wait.
_Sieg. _ So let them. --You forget
To-morrow is the appointed festival
In Prague[198] for peace restored. You are apt to follow
The chase with such an ardour as will scarce
Permit you to return to-day, or if
Returned, too much fatigued to join to-morrow
The nobles in our marshalled ranks.
_Ulr. _ You, Count, 240
Will well supply the place of both--I am not
A lover of these pageantries.
_Sieg. _ No, Ulric;
It were not well that you alone of all
Our young nobility----
_Ida. _ And far the noblest
In aspect and demeanour.
_Sieg. _ (_to_ IDA). True, dear child,
Though somewhat frankly said for a fair damsel. --
But, Ulric, recollect too our position,
So lately reinstated in our honours.
Believe me, 'twould be marked in any house,
But most in _ours_, that ONE should be found wanting 250
At such a time and place. Besides, the Heaven
Which gave us back our own, in the same moment
It spread its peace o'er all, hath double claims
On us for thanksgiving: first, for our country;
And next, that we are here to share its blessings.
_Ulr. _ (_aside_). Devout, too! Well, sir, I obey at once.
(_Then aloud to a servant_. )
Ludwig, dismiss the train without!
[_Exit_ LUDWIG.
_Ida. _ And so
You yield, at once, to him what I for hours
Might supplicate in vain.
_Sieg. _ (_smiling_). You are not jealous
Of me, I trust, my pretty rebel! who 260
Would sanction disobedience against all
Except thyself? But fear not; thou shalt rule him
Hereafter with a fonder sway and firmer.
_Ida. _ But I should like to govern _now_.
_Sieg. _ You shall,
Your _harp_, which by the way awaits you with
The Countess in her chamber. She complains
That you are a sad truant to your music:
She attends you.
_Ida. _ Then good morrow, my kind kinsmen!
Ulric, you'll come and hear me?
_Ulr. _ By and by.
_Ida. _ Be sure I'll sound it better than your bugles; 270
Then pray you be as punctual to its notes:
I'll play you King Gustavus' march.
_Ulr. _ And why not
Old Tilly's?
_Ida. _ Not that monster's! I should think
My harp-strings rang with groans, and not with music,
Could aught of _his_ sound on it:--but come quickly;
Your mother will be eager to receive you. [_Exit_ IDA.
