No More Learning

they were all volunteers! There
were certainly some few forward lads who pushed to the front of the ranks
and inquired of the colonel at what price the prince sold his subjects
per yoke, upon which our gracious ruler ordered the regiments to be
marched to the parade, and the malcontents to be shot. We heard the
report of the muskets, and saw brains and blood spurting about us, while
the whole band shouted--"Hurrah for America! "

LADY MILFORD. And I heard nothing of all this! saw nothing!

VALET. No, most gracious lady, because you rode off to the bear-hunt
with his highness just at the moment the drum was beating for the march.
'Tis a pity your ladyship missed the pleasure of the sight--here, crying
children might be seen following their wretched father--there, a mother
distracted with grief was rushing forward to throw her tender infant
among the bristling bayonets--here, a bride and bridegroom were separated
with the sabre's stroke--and there, graybeards were seen to stand in
despair, and fling their very crutches after their sons in the New World
--and, in the midst of all this, the drums were beating loudly, that the
prayers and lamentations might not reach the Almighty ear.

LADY MILFORD (rising in violent emotion). Away with these jewels--their
rays pierce my bosom like the flames of hell. Moderate your grief, old
man. Your children shall be restored to you. You shall again clasp them
to your bosom.

VALET (with warmth). Yes, heaven knows! We shall meet again! As they
passed the city gates they turned round and cried aloud: "God bless our
wives and children--long life to our gracious sovereign. At the day of
judgment we shall all meet again! "

LADY MILFORD (walks up and down the room in great agitation). Horrible!
most horrible! --and they would persuade me that I had dried up all the
tears in the land. Now, indeed, my eyes are fearfully opened! Go--tell
the prince that I will thank him in person! (As the valet is going she
drops the purse into his hat. ) And take this as a recompense for the
truth you have revealed to me.

VALET (throws the purse with contempt on the table). Keep it, with your
other treasures. [Exit.

LADY MILFORD (looking after him in astonishment). Sophy, follow him,
and inquire his name. His sons shall be restored to him. (SOPHY goes.
LADY MILFORD becomes absorbed in thought. Pause. Then to SOPHY as she
returns. ) Was there not a report that some town on the frontier had
been destroyed by fire, and four hundred families reduced to beggary?
(She rings. )

SOPHY. What has made your ladyship just think of that? Yes--such was
certainly the fact, and most of these poor creatures are either compelled
to serve their creditors as bondsmen, or are dragging out their miserable
days in the depths of the royal silver mines.

Enter a SERVANT. What are your ladyship's commands?

LADY MILFORD (giving him the case of jewels). Carry this to my treasurer
without delay. Let the jewels be sold and the money distributed among
the four hundred families who were ruined by the fire.

SOPHY. Consider, my lady, the risk you run of displeasing his highness.

LADY MILFORD (with dignity). Should I encircle my brows with the curses
of his subjects? (Makes a sign to the servant, who goes away with the
jewel case. ) Wouldst thou have me dragged to the earth by the dreadful
weight of the tears of misery? Nay! Sophy, it is better far to wear
false jewels on the brow, and to have the consciousness of a good deed
within the breast!

SOPHY. But diamonds of such value! Why not rather give some that are
less precious? Truly, my lady, it is an unpardonable act.

LADY MILFORD. Foolish girl! For this deed more brilliants and pearls
will flow for me in one moment than kings ever wore in their richest
diadems! Ay, and infinitely more beautiful!

SERVANT enters. Major von Walter!

SOPHY (running hastily to the help of LADY MILFORD, who seems fainting).
Heavens, my lady, you change color!

LADY MILFORD. The first man who ever made me tremble. (To the SERVANT. )
I am not well--but stay--what said the major? --how? O Sophy! I look
sadly ill, do I not?

SOPHY. I entreat you, my lady, compose yourself.

SERVANT. Is it your ladyship's wish that I should deny you to the major?

LADY MILFORD (hesitating). Tell him--I shall be happy to see him. (Exit
SERVANT. ) What shall I say to him, Sophy? how shall I receive him? I
will be silent--alas! I fear he will despise my weakness. He will--ah,
me! what sad forebodings oppress my heart! You are going Sophy! stay,
yet--no, no--he comes--yes, stay, stay with me----

SOPHY. Collect yourself, my lady, the major----



SCENE III. --FERDINAND VON WALTER. The former.

FERDINAND (with a slight bow). I hope I do not interrupt your ladyship?

LADY MILFORD (with visible emotion). Not at all, baron--not in the
least.

FERDINAND. I wait on your ladyship, at the command of my father.

LADY MILFORD. Therein I am his debtor.

FERDINAND. And I am charged to announce to you that our marriage is
determined on. Thus far I fulfil the commission of my father.

LADY MILFORD (changing color and trembling). And not of your own heart?

FERDINAND. Ministers and panders have no concern with hearts.

LADY MILFORD (almost speechless with emotion). And you yourself--have
you nothing to add?

FERDINAND (looking at SOPHY). Much! my lady, much!

LADY MILFORD (motions to SOPHY to withdraw). May I beg you to take a
seat by my side?

FERDINAND. I will be brief, lady.

LADY MILFORD. Well!

FERDINAND. I am a man of honor!

LADY MILFORD. Whose worth I know how to appreciate.

FERDINAND. I am of noble birth!

LADY MILFORD. Noble as any in the land!

FERDINAND. A soldier!

LADY MILFORD (in a soft, affectionate manner). Thus far you have only
enumerated advantages which you share in common with many others. Why
are you so silent regarding those noble qualities which are peculiarly
your own?

FERDINAND (coldly). Here they would be out of place.

LADY MILFORD (with increasing agitation). In what light am I to
understand this prelude?

FERDINAND (slowly, and with emphasis). As the protest of the voice of
honor--should you think proper to enforce the possession of my hand!

LADY MILFORD (starting with indignation). Major von Walter! What
language is this?

FERDINAND (calmly). The language of my heart--of my unspotted name--and
of this true sword.

LADY MILFORD. Your sword was given to you by the prince.

FERDINAND. 'Twas the state which gave it, by the hands of the prince.
God bestowed on me an honest heart. My nobility is derived from a line
of ancestry extending through centuries.

LADY MILFORD. But the authority of the prince----

FERDINAND (with warmth). Can he subvert the laws of humanity, or stamp
glory on our actions as easily as he stamps value on the coin of his
realm? He himself is not raised above the laws of honor, although he may
stifle its whispers with gold--and shroud his infamy in robes of ermine!
But enough of this, lady! --it is too late now to talk of blasted
prospects--or of the desecration of ancestry--or of that nice sense of
honor--girded on with my sword--or of the world's opinion. All these I
am ready to trample under foot as soon as you have proved to me that the
reward is not inferior to the sacrifice.

LADY MILFORD (in extreme distress turning away). Major! I have not
deserved this!

FERDINAND (taking her hand). Pardon me, lady--we are without witnesses.
The circumstance which brings us together to-day--and only to-day--
justifies me, nay, compels me, to reveal to you my most secret feelings.
I cannot comprehend, lady, how a being gifted with so much beauty and
spirit--qualities which a man cannot fail to admire--could throw herself
away on a prince incapable of valuing aught beyond her mere person--and
yet not feel some visitings of shame, when she steps forth to offer her
heart to a man of honor!

LADY MILFORD (looking at him with an air of pride). Say on, sir, without
reserve.

FERDINAND. You call yourself an Englishwoman--pardon me, lady, I can
hardly believe you. The free-born daughter of the freest people under
heaven--a people too proud to imitate even foreign virtues--would surely
never have sold herself to foreign vices! It is not possible, lady, that
you should be a native of Britain, unless indeed your heart be as much
below as the sons of Britannia vaunt theirs to be above all others!

LADY MILFORD. Have you done, sir?

FERDINAND. Womanly vanity--passions--temperament--a natural appetite for
pleasure--all these might, perhaps, be pleaded in extenuation--for virtue
often survives honor--and many who once trod the paths of infamy have
subsequently reconciled themselves to society by the performance of noble
deeds, and have thus thrown a halo of glory round their evil doings--but
if this were so, whence comes the monstrous extortion that now oppresses
the people with a weight never before known? This I would ask in the
name of my fatherland--and now, lady, I have done!

LADY MILFORD (with gentleness and dignity). This is the first time,
Baron von Walter, that words such as these have been addressed to me--and
you are the only man to whom I would in return have vouchsafed an answer.
Your rejection of my hand commands my esteem. Your invectives against my
heart have my full forgiveness, for I will not believe you sincere, since
he who dares hold such language to a woman, that could ruin him in an
instant--must either believe that she possesses a great and noble heart--
or must be the most desperate of madmen. That you ascribe the misery of
this land to me may He forgive, before whose throne you, and I, and the
prince shall one day meet! But, as in my person you have insulted the
daughter of Britain, so in vindication of my country's honor you must
hear my exculpation.

FERDINAND (leaning on his sword). Lady, I listen with interest.

LADY MILFORD. Hear, then, that which I have never yet breathed to
mortal, and which none but yourself will ever learn from my lips. I am
not the low adventurer you suppose me, sir! Nay! did I listen to the
voice of pride, I might even boast myself to be of royal birth; I am
descended from the unhappy Thomas Norfolk, who paid the penalty of his
adherence to the cause of Mary, Queen of Scots, by a bloody death on the
scaffold. My father, who, as royal chamberlain, had once enjoyed his
sovereign's confidence, was accused of maintaining treasonable relations
with France, and was condemned and executed by a decree of the Parliament
of Great Britain. Our estates were confiscated, and our family banished
from their native soil. My mother died on the day of my father's
execution, and I--then a girl of fourteen--fled to Germany with one
faithful attendant. A casket of jewels, and this crucifix, placed in my
bosom by my dying mother, were all my fortune!

[FERDINAND, absorbed in thought, surveys LADY MILFORD with looks of
compassion and sympathy.

LADY MILFORD (continuing with increased emotion). Without a name--
without protection or property--a foreigner and an orphan, I reached
Hamburg. I had learnt nothing but a little French, and to run my fingers
over the embroidery frame, or the keys of my harpsichord. But, though I
was ignorant of all useful arts, I had learnt full well to feast off gold
and silver, to sleep beneath silken hangings, to bid attendant pages obey
my voice, and to listen to the honeyed words of flattery and adulation.
Six years passed away in sorrow and in sadness--the remnant of my scanty
means was fast melting away--my old and faithful nurse was no more--and--
and then it was that fate brought your sovereign to Hamburg. I was
walking beside the shores of the Elbe, wondering, as I gazed on its
waters, whether they or my sorrows were the deeper, when the duke crossed
my path. He followed me, traced me to my humble abode, and, casting
himself at my feet, vowed that he loved me. (She pauses, and, after
struggling with her emotion, continues in a voice choked by tears. ) All
the images of my happy childhood were revived in hues of delusive
brightness--while the future lowered before me black as the grave.
My
heart panted for communion with another--and I sank into the arms opened
to receive me! (Turning away. ) And now you condemn me!

FERDINAND (greatly agitated, follows her and leads her back). Lady!
heavens! what do I hear! What have I done? The guilt of my conduct is
unveiled in all its deformity! It is impossible you should forgive me.

LADY MILFORD (endeavoring to overcome her emotion). Hear me on! The
prince, it is true, overcame my unprotected youth, but the blood of the
Howards still glowed within my veins, and never ceased to reproach me;
that I, the descendant of royal ancestors, should stoop to be a prince's
paramour! Pride and destiny still contended in my bosom, when the duke
brought me hither, where scenes the most revolting burst upon my sight!
The voluptuousness of the great is an insatiable hyena--the craving of
whose appetite demands perpetual victims. Fearfully had it laid this
country waste separating bridegroom and bride--and tearing asunder even
the holy bonds of marriage. Here it had destroyed the tranquil happiness
of a whole family--there the blighting pest had seized on a young and
inexperienced heart, and expiring victims called down bitter imprecations
on the heads of the undoers. It was then that I stepped forth between
the lamb and the tiger, and, in a moment of dalliance, extorted from the
duke his royal promise that this revolting licentiousness should cease.

FERDINAND (pacing the room in violent agitation). No more, lady! No
more!

LADY MILFORD. This gloomy period was succeeded by one still more gloomy.
The court swarmed with French and Italian adventurers--the royal sceptre
became the plaything of Parisian harlots, and the people writhed and bled
beneath their capricious rule. Each had her day. I saw them sink before
me, one by one, for I was the most skilful coquette of all! It was then
that I seized and wielded the tyrant's sceptre whilst he slumbered
voluptuously in my embrace--then, Walter, thy country, for the first
time, felt the hand of humanity, and reposed in confidence on my bosom.
(A pause, during which she gazes upon him with tenderness. ) Oh! 'that
the man, by whom, of all others, I least wish to be misunderstood, should
compel me to turn braggart and parade my unobtrusive virtues to the glare
of admiration! Walter, I have burst open the doors of prisons--I have
cancelled death-warrants and shortened many a frightful eternity upon the
galleys. Into wounds beyond my power to heal I have at least poured
soothing balsam. I have hurled mighty villains to the earth, and oft
with the tears of a harlot saved the cause of innocence from impending
ruin. Ah! young man, how sweet were then my feelings! How proudly did
these actions teach my heart to support the reproaches of my noble blood!
And now comes the man who alone can repay me for all that I have
suffered--the man, whom perhaps my relenting destiny created as a
compensation for former sorrows--the man, whom with ardent affection, I
already clasped in my dreams.

FERDINAND (interrupting her). Hold, lady, hold! You exceed the bounds of
our conference! You undertook to clear yourself from reproach, and you
make me a criminal! Spare me, I beseech you! Spare a heart already
overwhelmed by confusion and remorse!

LADY MILFORD (grasping his hand). You must hear me, Walter! hear me now
or never. Long enough has the heroine sustained me; now you must feel
the whole weight of these tears! Mark me, Walter! Should an
unfortunate--impetuously, irresistibly attracted towards you--clasp you
to her bosom full of unutterable, inextinguishable love--should this
unfortunate--bowed down with the consciousness of shame--disgusted with
vicious pleasures--heroically exalted by the inspiration of virtue--throw
herself--thus into your arms (embracing him in an eager and supplicating
manner); should she do this, and you still pronounce the freezing word
"Honor! " Should she pray that through you she might be saved--that
through you she might be restored to her hopes of heaven! (Turning away
her head, and speaking in a hollow, faltering voice. ) Or should she, her
prayer refused, listen to the voice of despair, and to escape from your
image plunge herself into yet more fearful depths of infamy and vice----

FERDINAND (breaking from her in great emotion). No, by heaven! This is
more than I can endure! Lady, I am compelled--Heaven and earth compels
me--to make the honest avowal of my sentiments and situation.

LADY MILFORD (hastening from him). Oh! not now! By all that is holy I
entreat you--spare me in this dreadful moment when my lacerated heart
bleeds from a thousand wounds. Be your decision life or death--I dare
not--I will not hear it!

FERDINAND. I entreat you, lady! I insist! What I have to say will
mitigate my offence, and warmly plead your forgiveness for the past. I
have been deceived in you, lady. I expected--nay, I wished to find you
deserving my contempt. I came determined to insult you, and to make
myself the object of your hate. Happy would it have been for us both had
my purpose succeeded! (He pauses; then proceeds in a gentle and
faltering voice. ) Lady, I love! --I love a maid of humble birth--Louisa
Miller is her name, the daughter of a music-master. (LADY MILFORD turns
away pale and greatly agitated. ) I know into what an abyss I plunge
myself; but, though prudence bids me conceal my passion, honor overpowers
its precepts. I am the criminal--I first destroyed the golden calm of
Louisa's innocence--I lulled her heart with aspiring hopes, and
surrendered it, like a betrayer, a prey to the wildest of passions. You
will bid me remember my rank--my birth--my father--schemes of
aggrandisement. But in vain--I love! My hopes become more fervent as
the breach widens between nature and the mere conventions of society--
between my resolution and worldly prejudices! We shall see whether love
or interest is victorious. (LADY MILFORD during this has retired to the
extreme end of the apartment, and covers her face with both hands.
FERDINAND approaches her. ) Have you aught to answer, lady?

LADY MILFORD (in a tone of intense suffering). Nothing! Nothing! but
that you destroy yourself and me--and, with us yet a third.

FERDINAND. A third?

LADY MILFORD. Never can you marry Louisa; never can you be happy with
me. We shall all be the victims of your father's rashness. I can never
hope to possess the heart of a husband who has been forced to give me his
hand.

FERDINAND. Forced, lady? Forced? And yet given? Will you enforce a
hand without a heart? Will you tear from a maiden a man who is the whole
world to her? Will you tear a maiden from a man who has centered all his
hopes of happiness on her alone? Will you do this, lady? you who but a
moment before were the lofty, noble-minded daughter of Britain?

LADY MILFORD. I will because I must! (earnestly and firmly). My
passions, Walter, overcome my tenderness for you. My honor has no
alternative. Our union is the talk of the whole city. Every eye, every
shaft of ridicule is bent against me. 'Twere a stain which time could
never efface should a subject of the prince reject my hand! Appease your
father if you have the power! Defend yourself as you best may! my
resolution is taken. The mine is fired and I abide the issue.

[Exit. FERDINAND remains in speechless astonishment for some
moments; then rushes wildly out.



SCENE IV. --Miller's House.

MILLER meeting LOUISA and MRS. MILLER.

MILLER. Ay! ay! I told you how it would be!

LOUISA (hastening to him with anxiety). What, father? What?

MILLER (running up and down the room). My cloak, there. Quick, quick!
I must be beforehand with him. My cloak, I say! Yes, yes! this was just
what I expected!

LOUISA. For God's sake, father! tell me?

MRS. MILLER. What is the matter, Miller? What alarms you?

MILLER (throwing down his wig). Let that go to the friezer. What is the
matter, indeed? And my beard, too, is nearly half an inch long. What's
the matter? What do you think, you old carrion. The devil has broke
loose, and you may look out for squalls.

MRS. MILLER. There, now, that's just the way! When anything goes wrong
it is always my fault.

MILLER. Your fault? Yes, you brimstone fagot! and whose else should it
be? This very morning when you were holding forth about that confounded
major, did I not say then what would be the consequence? That knave,
Worm, has blabbed.

MRS. MILLER. Gracious heavens! But how do you know?

MILLER. How do I know? Look yonder! a messenger of the minister is
already at the door inquiring for the fiddler.

LOUISA (turning pale, and sitting down). Oh! God! I am in agony!

MILLER. And you, too, with that languishing air? (laughs bitterly).
But, right! Right! There is an old saying that where the devil keeps a
breeding-cage he is sure to hatch a handsome daughter.

MRS. MILLER. But how do you know that Louisa is in question? You may
have been recommended to the duke; he may want you in his orchestra.

MILLER (jumping up, and seizing his fiddlestick). May the sulphurous
rain of hell consume thee! Orchestra, indeed! Ay, where you, you old
procuress, shall howl the treble whilst my smarting back groans the base
(Throwing himself upon a chair. ) Oh! God in heaven!

LOUISA (sinks on the sofa, pale as death). Father! Mother! Oh! my
heart sinks within me.

MILLER (starting up with anger). But let me only lay hands on that
infernal quill-driver! I'll make him skip--be it in this world or the
next; if I don't pound him to a jelly, body and soul; if I don't write
all the Ten Commandments, the seven Penitential Psalms, the five books of
Moses, and the whole of the Prophets upon his rascally hide so distinctly
that the blue hieroglyphics shall be legible at the day of judgment--if I
don't, may I----

MRS. MILLER. Yes, yes, curse and swear your hardest! That's the way to
frighten the devil! Oh, dear! Oh, dear! Oh, gracious heavens! What
shall we do? Who can advise us? Speak, Miller, speak; this silence
distracts me!