No More Learning

_Wer. _ And I--nothing.

_Gab. _ That's harder still. You say you were a soldier.

_Wer. _ I was.

_Gab. _ You look one still. All soldiers are
Or should be comrades, even though enemies.
Our swords when drawn must cross, our engines aim
(While levelled) at each other's hearts; but when
A truce, a peace, or what you will, remits 350
The steel into its scabbard, and lets sleep
The spark which lights the matchlock, we are brethren.
You are poor and sickly--I am not rich, but healthy;
I want for nothing which I cannot want;
You seem devoid of this--wilt share it?
[GABOR _pulls out his purse_.

_Wer. _ Who
Told you I was a beggar?

_Gab. _ You yourself,
In saying you were a soldier during peace-time.

_Wer. _ (_looking at him with suspicion_). You know me not.

_Gab. _ I know no man, not even
Myself: how should I then know one I ne'er
Beheld till half an hour since?

_Wer. _ Sir, I thank you. 360
Your offer's noble were it to a friend,
And not unkind as to an unknown stranger,
Though scarcely prudent; but no less I thank you.
I am a beggar in all save his trade;
And when I beg of any one, it shall be
Of him who was the first to offer what
Few can obtain by asking. Pardon me. [_Exit_ WERNER.

_Gab. _ (_solus_). A goodly fellow by his looks, though worn
As most good fellows are, by pain or pleasure,
Which tear life out of us before our time; 370
I scarce know which most quickly: but he seems
To have seen better days, as who has not
Who has seen yesterday? --But here approaches
Our sage intendant, with the wine: however,
For the cup's sake I'll bear the cupbearer.

_Enter_ IDENSTEIN.

_Iden. _ 'Tis here! the _supernaculum! _[168] twenty years
Of age, if 'tis a day.

_Gab. _ Which epoch makes
Young women and old wine; and 'tis great pity,
Of two such excellent things, increase of years,
Which still improves the one, should spoil the other. 380
Fill full--Here's to our hostess! --your fair wife!
[_Takes the glass_.

_Iden. _ Fair! --Well, I trust your taste in wine is equal
To that you show for beauty; but I pledge you
Nevertheless.

_Gab. _ Is not the lovely woman
I met in the adjacent hall, who, with
An air, and port, and eye, which would have better
Beseemed this palace in its brightest days
(Though in a garb adapted to its present
Abandonment), returned my salutation--
Is not the same your spouse?

_Iden. _ I would she were! 390
But you're mistaken:--that's the stranger's wife.

_Gab. _ And by her aspect she might be a Prince's;
Though time hath touched her too, she still retains
Much beauty, and more majesty.

_Iden. _ And that
Is more than I can say for Madame Idenstein,
At least in beauty: as for majesty,
She has some of its properties which might
Be spared--but never mind!

_Gab. _ I don't. But who
May be this stranger? He too hath a bearing
Above his outward fortunes.

_Iden. _ There I differ. 400
He's poor as Job, and not so patient; but
Who he may be, or what, or aught of him,
Except his name (and that I only learned
To-night), I know not.

_Gab. _ But how came he here?

_Iden. _ In a most miserable old caleche,
About a month since, and immediately
Fell sick, almost to death. He should have died.

_Gab. _ Tender and true! --but why?

_Iden. _ Why, what is life
Without a living? He has not a stiver. [co]

_Gab. _ In that case, I much wonder that a person 410
Of your apparent prudence should admit
Guests so forlorn into this noble mansion.

_Iden. _ That's true: but pity, as you know, _does_ make
One's heart commit these follies; and besides,
They had some valuables left at that time,
Which paid their way up to the present hour;
And so I thought they might as well be lodged
Here as at the small tavern, and I gave them
The run of some of the oldest palace rooms.
They served to air them, at the least as long 420
As they could pay for firewood.

_Gab. _ Poor souls!

_Iden. _ Aye,
Exceeding poor.

_Gab. _ And yet unused to poverty,
If I mistake not. Whither were they going?

_Iden. _ Oh! Heaven knows where, unless to Heaven itself.
Some days ago that looked the likeliest journey
For Werner.

_Gab. _ Werner! I have heard the name.
But it may be a feigned one.

_Iden. _ Like enough!
But hark! a noise of wheels and voices, and
A blaze of torches from without. As sure
As destiny, his Excellency's come. 430
I must be at my post; will you not join me,
To help him from his carriage, and present
Your humble duty at the door?

_Gab. _ I dragged him
From out that carriage when he would have given
His barony or county to repel
The rushing river from his gurgling throat.
He has valets now enough: they stood aloof then,
Shaking their dripping ears upon the shore,
All roaring "Help! " but offering none; and as
For _duty_ (as you call it)--I did mine _then_, 440
Now do _yours_. Hence, and bow and cringe him here!

_Iden. _ _I_ cringe! --but I shall lose the opportunity--
Plague take it! he'll be _here_, and I _not there! _
[_Exit_ IDENSTEIN _hastily_.

_Re-enter_ WERNER.

_Wer. _ (_to himself_). I heard a noise of wheels and voices. How
All sounds now jar me! [_Perceiving_ GABOR.
Still here! Is he not
A spy of my pursuer's? His frank offer
So suddenly, and to a stranger, wore
The aspect of a secret enemy;
For friends are slow at such.

_Gab. _ Sir, you seem rapt;
And yet the time is not akin to thought. 450
These old walls will be noisy soon. The baron,
Or count (or whatsoe'er this half drowned noble
May be), for whom this desolate village and
Its lone inhabitants show more respect
Than did the elements, is come.

_Iden. _ (_without_). This way--
This way, your Excellency:--have a care,
The staircase is a little gloomy, and
Somewhat decayed; but if we had expected
So high a guest--Pray take my arm, my Lord!

_Enter_ STRALENHEIM, IDENSTEIN, _and Attendants--partly
his own, and partly Retainers of the Domain of which_
IDENSTEIN _is Intendant_.

_Stral. _ I'll rest here a moment.

_Iden. _ (_to the servants_). Ho! a chair! 460
Instantly, knaves. [STRALENHEIM _sits down_.

_Wer. _ (_aside_). Tis he!

_Stral. _ I'm better now.
Who are these strangers?

_Iden. _ Please you, my good Lord,
One says he is no stranger.

_Wer. _ (_aloud and hastily_). _Who_ says that?
[_They look at him with surprise_.

_Iden. _ Why, no one spoke _of you_, or _to you_! --but
Here's one his Excellency may be pleased
To recognise. [_Pointing to_ GABOR.

_Gab. _ I seek not to disturb
His noble memory.

_Stral. _ I apprehend
This is one of the strangers to whose aid[cp]
I owe my rescue. Is not that the other?
[_Pointing to_ WERNER.
My state when I was succoured must excuse 470
My uncertainty to whom I owe so much.

_Iden. _ He! --no, my Lord! he rather wants for rescue
Than can afford it. 'Tis a poor sick man,
Travel-tired, and lately risen from a bed
From whence he never dreamed to rise.

_Stral. _ Methought
That there were two.

_Gab. _ There were, in company;
But, in the service rendered to your Lordship,
I needs must say but _one_, and he is absent.
The chief part of whatever aid was rendered
Was _his_: it was his fortune to be first. 480
My will was not inferior, but his strength
And youth outstripped me; therefore do not waste
Your thanks on me. I was but a glad second
Unto a nobler principal.

_Stral. _ Where is he?

_An Atten. _ My Lord, he tarried in the cottage where
Your Excellency rested for an hour,
And said he would be here to-morrow.

_Stral. _ Till
That hour arrives, I can but offer thanks,
And then----

_Gab. _ I seek no more, and scarce deserve
So much. My comrade may speak for himself. 490

_Stral. _ (_fixing his eyes upon_ WERNER: _then aside_).
It cannot be! and yet he must be looked to.
'Tis twenty years since I beheld him with
These eyes; and, though my agents still have kept
_Theirs_ on him, policy has held aloof
My own from his, not to alarm him into
Suspicion of my plan. Why did I leave
At Hamburgh those who would have made assurance
If this be he or no? I thought, ere now,
To have been lord of Siegendorf, and parted
In haste, though even the elements appear 500
To fight against me, and this sudden flood
May keep me prisoner here till----
[_He pauses and looks at_ WERNER: _then resumes_.
This man must
Be watched. If it is he, he is so changed,
His father, rising from his grave again,
Would pass by him unknown. I must be wary:
An error would spoil all.

_Iden. _ Your Lordship seems
Pensive. Will it not please you to pass on?

_Stral. _ 'Tis past fatigue, which gives my weighed-down spirit
An outward show of thought. I will to rest.

_Iden. _ The Prince's chamber is prepared, with all 510
The very furniture the Prince used when
Last here, in its full splendour.
(_Aside_). Somewhat tattered,
And devilish damp, but fine enough by torch-light;
And that's enough for your right noble blood
Of twenty quarterings upon a hatchment;
So let their bearer sleep 'neath something like one
Now, as he one day will for ever lie.

_Stral. _ (_rising and turning to_ GABOR).
Good night, good people! Sir, I trust to-morrow
Will find me apter to requite your service.
In the meantime I crave your company 520
A moment in my chamber.

_Gab. _ I attend you.

_Stral_, (_after a few steps, pauses, and calls_ WERNER).
Friend!

_Wer. _ Sir!

_Iden. _ _Sir! _ Lord--oh Lord! Why don't you say
His Lordship, or his Excellency? Pray,
My Lord, excuse this poor man's want of breeding:
He hath not been accustomed to admission
To such a presence.

_Stral. _ (_to_ IDENSTEIN). Peace, intendant!

_Iden. _ Oh!
I am dumb.

_Stral. _ (_to_ WERNER). Have you been long here?

_Wer. _ Long?

_Stral. _ I sought
An answer, not an echo.

_Wer. _ You may seek
Both from the walls. I am not used to answer
Those whom I know not.

_Stral. _ Indeed! Ne'er the less, 530
You might reply with courtesy to what
Is asked in kindness.

_Wer. _ When I know it such
I will requite--that is, _reply_--in unison.

_Stral. _ The intendant said, you had been detained by sickness--
If I could aid you--journeying the same way?

_Wer. _ (_quickly_). I am not journeying the same way!

_Stral. _ How know ye
That, ere you know my route?

_Wer. _ Because there is
But one way that the rich and poor must tread
Together. You diverged from that dread path
Some hours ago, and I some days: henceforth 540
Our roads must lie asunder, though they tend
All to one home.

_Stral. _ Your language is above
Your station.

_Wer. _ (_bitterly_). Is it?

_Stral. _ Or, at least, beyond
Your garb.

_Wer. _ 'Tis well that it is not beneath it,
As sometimes happens to the better clad.
But, in a word, what would you with me?

_Stral. _ (_startled_). I?

_Wer. _ Yes--you! You know me not, and question me,
And wonder that I answer not--not knowing
My inquisitor. Explain what you would have,
And then I'll satisfy yourself, or me. 550

_Stral. _ I knew not that you had reasons for reserve.

_Wer. _ Many have such:--Have you none?

_Stral. _ None which can
Interest a mere stranger.

_Wer. _ Then forgive
The same unknown and humble stranger, if
He wishes to remain so to the man
Who can have nought in common with him.

_Stral. _ Sir,
I will not balk your humour, though untoward:
I only meant you service--but good night!
Intendant, show the way! (_To_ GABOR. ) Sir, you will with me?
[_Exeunt_ STRALENHEIM _and Attendants_; IDENSTEIN _and_ GABOR.

_Wer. _ (_solus_). 'Tis he! I am taken in the toils. Before 560
I quitted Hamburg, Giulio, his late steward,
Informed me, that he had obtained an order
From Brandenburg's elector, for the arrest
Of Kruitzner (such the name I then bore) when
I came upon the frontier; the free city
Alone preserved my freedom--till I left
Its walls--fool that I was to quit them! But
I deemed this humble garb, and route obscure,
Had baffled the slow hounds in their pursuit.
What's to be done? He knows me not by person; 570
Nor could aught, save the eye of apprehension,
Have recognised _him_, after twenty years--
We met so rarely and so coldly in
Our youth. But those about him! Now I can
Divine the frankness of the Hungarian, who
No doubt is a mere tool and spy of Stralenheim's,
To sound and to secure me. Without means!
Sick, poor--begirt too with the flooding rivers,
Impassable even to the wealthy, with
All the appliances which purchase modes 580
Of overpowering peril, with men's lives,--
How can I hope! An hour ago methought
My state beyond despair; and now, 'tis such,
The past seems paradise. Another day,
And I'm detected,--on the very eve
Of honours, rights, and my inheritance,
When a few drops of gold might save me still
In favouring an escape.

_Enter_ IDENSTEIN _and_ FRITZ _in conversation_.

_Fritz_. Immediately.

_Iden. _ I tell you, 'tis impossible.

_Fritz_. It must
Be tried, however; and if one express 590
Fail, you must send on others, till the answer
Arrives from Frankfort, from the commandant.

_Iden. _ I will do what I can.

_Fritz_. And recollect
To spare no trouble; you will be repaid
Tenfold.

_Iden. _ The Baron is retired to rest?

_Fritz_. He hath thrown himself into an easy chair
Beside the fire, and slumbers; and has ordered
He may not be disturbed until eleven,
When he will take himself to bed.

_Iden. _ Before
An hour is past I'll do my best to serve him. 600

_Fritz_. Remember! [_Exit_ FRITZ.

_Iden. _ The devil take these great men! they
Think all things made for them. Now here must I
Rouse up some half a dozen shivering vassals
From their scant pallets, and, at peril of
Their lives, despatch them o'er the river towards
Frankfort. Methinks the Baron's own experience
Some hours ago might teach him fellow-feeling:
But no, "it _must_" and there's an end. How now?
Are you there, Mynheer Werner?

_Wer. _ You have left
Your noble guest right quickly.

_Iden. _ Yes--he's dozing, 610
And seems to like that none should sleep besides.
Here is a packet for the Commandant
Of Frankfort, at all risks and all expenses;
But I must not lose time: Good night! [_Exit_ IDEN.

_Wer. _ "To Frankfort! "
So, so, it thickens! Aye, "the Commandant! "
This tallies well with all the prior steps
Of this cool, calculating fiend, who walks
Between me and my father's house. No doubt
He writes for a detachment to convey me
Into some secret fortress. --Sooner than 620
This----
[WERNER _looks around, and snatches up a knife lying
on a table in a recess_.
Now I am master of myself at least.
Hark,--footsteps! How do I know that Stralenheim
Will wait for even the show of that authority
Which is to overshadow usurpation?
That he suspects me 's certain. I'm alone--
He with a numerous train: I weak--he strong
In gold, in numbers, rank, authority.
I nameless, or involving in my name
Destruction, till I reach my own domain;
He full-blown with his titles, which impose 630
Still further on these obscure petty burghers
Than they could do elsewhere. Hark! nearer still!
I'll to the secret passage, which communicates
With the----No! all is silent--'twas my fancy! --
Still as the breathless interval between
The flash and thunder:--I must hush my soul
Amidst its perils. Yet I will retire,
To see if still be unexplored the passage
I wot of: it will serve me as a den
Of secrecy for some hours, at the worst. 640
[WERNER _draws a panel, and exit, closing it after him_.

_Enter_ GABOR _and_ JOSEPHINE.

_Gab. _ Where is your husband?

_Jos. _ _Here_, I thought: I left him
Not long since in his chamber. But these rooms
Have many outlets, and he may be gone
To accompany the Intendant.

_Gab. _ Baron Stralenheim
Put many questions to the Intendant on
The subject of your lord, and, to be plain,
I have my doubts if he means well.

_Jos. _ Alas!
What can there be in common with the proud
And wealthy Baron, and the unknown Werner?

_Gab. _ That you know best.

_Jos. _ Or, if it were so, how 650
Come you to stir yourself in his behalf,
Rather than that of him whose life you saved?

_Gab. _ I helped to save him, as in peril; but
I did not pledge myself to serve him in
Oppression. I know well these nobles, and
Their thousand modes of trampling on the poor.
I have proved them; and my spirit boils up when
I find them practising against the weak:--
This is my only motive.

_Jos. _ It would be
Not easy to persuade my consort of 660
Your good intentions.

_Gab. _ Is he so suspicious?

_Jos. _ He was not once; but time and troubles have
Made him what you beheld.

_Gab. _ I'm sorry for it.
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_.