Rome and
Sparta perished for want of a chief.
Sparta perished for want of a chief.
Friedrich Schiller
Hallo!
fellow!
are you dreaming?
or--
SPIEGEL. (who has all this time been making gestures in a corner of the
room, as if working out some great project, jumps up wildly). Your
money or your life! (He catches SCHWEITZER by the throat, who very
coolly flings him against the wall; Moor drops the letter and rushes
out. A general sensation. )
ROLLER. (calling after him). Moor! where are you going? What's the
matter?
GRIMM. What ails him? What has he been doing? He is as pale as death.
SCHW. He must have got strange news. Just let us see!
ROLLER. (picks up the letter from the ground, and reads). "Unfortunate
brother! "--a pleasant beginning--"I have only briefly to inform you that
you have nothing more to hope for. You may go, your father directs me
to tell you, wherever your own vicious propensities lead. Nor are you
to entertain, he says, any hope of ever gaining pardon by weeping at his
feet, unless you are prepared to fare upon bread and water in the lowest
dungeon of his castle until your hair shall outgrow eagles' feathers,
and your nails the talons of a vulture. These are his very words. He
commands me to close the letter. Farewell forever! I pity you.
"FRANCIS VON MOOR"
SCHW. A most amiable and loving brother, in good truth! And the
scoundrel's name is Francis.
SPIEGEL. (slinking forward). Bread and water! Is that it? A
temperate diet! But I have made a better provision for you. Did I not
say that I should have to think for you all at last?
SCHWEIT. What does the blockhead say! The jackass is going to think
for us all!
SPIEGEL. Cowards, cripples, lame dogs are ye all if you have not
courage enough to venture upon something great.
ROLLER. Well, of course, so we should be, you are right; but will your
proposed scheme get us out of this devil of a scrape? eh?
SPIEGEL. (with a proud laugh). Poor thing! Get us out of this scrape?
Ha, ha, ha! Get us out of the scrape! --and is that all your thimbleful
of brain can reach? And with that you trot your mare back to the
stable? Spiegelberg would have been a miserable bungler indeed if that
were the extent of his aim. Heroes, I tell you, barons, princes, gods,
it will make of you.
RAZ. That's pretty well for one bout, truly! But no doubt it is some
neck-breaking piece of business; it will cost a head or so at the least.
SPIEGEL. It wants nothing but courage; as to the headwork, I take that
entirely upon myself. Courage, I say, Schweitzer! Courage, Roller!
Grimm! Razman! Schufterle! Courage!
SCHW. Courage! If that is all, I have courage enough to walk through
hell barefoot.
SCHUFT. And I courage enough to fight the very devil himself under the
open gallows for the rescue of any poor sinner.
SPIEGEL. That's just what it should be! If ye have courage, let any
one of you step forward and say he has still something to lose, and not
everything to gain?
SCHW. Verily, I should have a good deal to lose, if I were to lose all
that I have yet to win!
PAZ. Yes, by Jove! and I much to win, if I could win all that I have
not got to lose.
SCHUFT. Were I to lose what I carry on my back on trust I should at any
rate have nothing to lose on the morrow.
SPIEGEL. Very well then! (He takes his place in the middle of them,
and says in solemn adjuration)--if but a drop of the heroic blood of the
ancient Germans still flow in your veins--come! We will fix our abode
in the Bohemian forests, draw together a band of robbers, and--What are
you gaping at? Has your slender stock of courage oozed out already?
ROLLER. You are not the first rogue by many that has defied the
gallows;--and yet what other choice have we?
SPIEGEL. Choice? You have no choice. Do you want to lie rotting in
the debtor's jail and beat hemp till you are bailed by the last trumpet?
Would you toil with pick-axe and spade for a morsel of dry bread? or
earn a pitiful alms by singing doleful ditties under people's windows?
Or will you be sworn at the drumhead--and then comes the question,
whether anybody would trust your hang-dog visages--and so under the
splenetic humor of some despotic sergeant serve your time of purgatory
in advance? Would you like to run the gauntlet to the beat of the drum?
or be doomed to drag after you, like a galley-slave, the whole iron
store of Vulcan? Behold your choice. You have before you the complete
catalogue of all that you may choose from!
ROLLER. Spiegelberg is not altogether wrong! I, too, have been
concocting plans, but they come much to the same thing. How would it
be, thought I, were we to club our wits together, and dish up a
pocketbook, or an almanac, or something of that sort, and write reviews
at a penny a line, as is now the fashion?
SCHUFT. The devil's in you! you are pretty nearly hitting on my own
schemes. I have been thinking to myself how would it answer were I to
turn Methodist, and hold weekly prayer-meetings?
GRIMM. Capital! and, if that fails, turn atheist! We might fall foul of
the four Gospels, get our book burned by the hangman, and then it would
sell at a prodigious rate.
RAZ. Or we might take the field to cure a fashionable ailment. I know
a quack doctor who has built himself a house with nothing but mercury,
as the motto over his door implies.
SCHWEIT. (rises and holds out his hand to Spiegelberg). Spiegelberg,
thou art a great man! or else a blind hog has by chance found an acorn.
SCHW. Excellent schemes! Honorable professions! How great minds
sympathize! All that seems wanting to complete the list is that we
should turn pimps and bawds.
SPIEGEL. Pooh! Pooh! Nonsense. And what is to prevent our combining
most of these occupations in one person? My plan will exalt you the
most, and it holds out glory and immortality into the bargain.
Remember, too, ye sorry varlets, and it is a matter worthy of
consideration: one's fame hereafter--the sweet thought of immortality--
ROLLER. And that at the very head of the muster-roll of honorable
names! You are a master of eloquence, Spiegelberg, when the question is
how to convert an honest man into a scoundrel. But does any one know
what has become of Moor?
SPIEGEL. Honest, say you? Do you think you'll be less honest then than
you are now? What do you call honest? To relieve rich misers of half
of those cares which only scare golden sleep from their eyelids; to
force hoarded coin into circulation; to restore the equalization of
property; in one word, to bring back the golden age; to relieve
Providence of many a burdensome pensioner, and so save it the trouble of
sending war, pestilence, famine, and above all, doctors--that is what I
call honesty, d'ye see; that's what I call being a worthy instrument in
the hand of Providence,--and then, at every meal you eat, to have the
sweet reflection: this is what thy own ingenuity, thy lion boldness, thy
night watchings, have procured for thee--to command the respect both of
great and small!
ROLLER. And at last to mount towards heaven in the living body, and in
spite of wind and storm, in spite of the greedy maw of old father Time,
to be hovering beneath the sun and moon and all the stars of the
firmament, where even the unreasoning birds of heaven, attracted by
noble instinct, chant their seraphic music, and angels with tails hold
their most holy councils? Don't you see? And, while monarchs and
potentates become a prey to moths and worms, to have the honor of
receiving visits from the royal bird of Jove. Moritz, Moritz, Moritz!
beware of the three-legged beast. *
*[The gallows, which in Germany is formed of three posts. ]
SPIEGEL. And does that fright thee, craven-heart? Has not many a
universal genius, who might have reformed the world, rotted upon the
gallows? And does not the renown of such a man live for hundreds and
thousands of years, whereas many a king and elector would be passed over
in history, were not historians obliged to give him a niche to complete
the line of succession, or that the mention of him did not swell the
volume a few octavo pages, for which he counts upon hard cash from the
publisher. And when the wayfarer sees you swinging to and fro in the
breeze he will mutter to himself, "That fellow's brains had no water in
them, I'll warrant me," and then groan over the hardship of the times.
SCHWEIT. (slaps him on the shoulder). Well said, Spiegelberg! Well
said! Why the devil do we stand here hesitating?
SCHW. And suppose it is called disgrace--what then? Cannot one, in
case of need, always carry a small powder about one, which quietly
smooths the weary traveller's passage across the Styx, where no
cock-crowing will disturb his rest? No, brother Moritz! Your scheme is
good; so at least says my creed.
SCHUFT. Zounds! and mine too! Spiegelberg, I am your recruit.
RAZ. Like a second Orpheus, Spiegelberg, you have charmed to sleep that
howling beast, conscience! Take me as I stand, I am yours entirely!
GRIMMM. _Si omnes consentiunt ego non dissentio_;* mind, without a
comma. There is an auction going on in my head--methodists--quack
doctors--reviewers--rogues;--the highest bidder has me. Here is my
hand, Moritz!
*[The joke is explained by placing a comma after non. ]
ROLLER. And you too, Schweitzer? (he gives his right hand to
SPIEGELBERG). Thus I consign my soul to the devil.
SPIEGEL. And your name to the stars! What does it signify where the
soul goes to? If crowds of _avantcouriers_ give notice of our descent
that the devils may put on their holiday gear, wipe the accumulated soot
of a thousand years from their eyelashes, and myriads of horned heads
pop up from the smoking mouth of their sulphurous chimneys to welcome
our arrival! 'Up, comrades! (leaping up). Up! What in the world is
equal to this ecstacy of delight? Come along, comrades!
ROLLER. Gently, gently! Where are you going? Every beast must have a
head, boys!
SPIEGEL. (With bitterness). What is that incubus preaching about? Was
not the head already there before a single limb began to move? Follow
me, comrades!
ROLLER. Gently, I say! even liberty must have its master.
Rome and
Sparta perished for want of a chief.
SPIEGEL. (in a wheedling manner). Yes,--stay--Roller is right. And he
must have an enlightened head. Do you understand? A keen, politic
head. Yes! when I think what you were only an hour ago, and what you
are now, and that it is all owing to one happy thought. Yes, of course,
you must have a chief, and you'll own that he who struck out this idea
may claim to have an enlightened and politic head?
ROLLER. If one could hope, if one could dream, but I fear he will not
consent.
SPIEGEL. Why not? Speak out boldly, friend! Difficult as it may be to
steer a laboring vessel against wind and tide, oppressive as may be the
weight of a crown, speak your thought without hesitation, Roller!
Perhaps he may be prevailed upon after all!
ROLLER. And if he does not the whole vessel will be crazy enough.
Without Moor we are a "body without a soul. "
SPIEGEL. (turning angrily from him). Dolt! blockhead!
(Enter CHARLES VON MOOR in violent agitation, stalking backwards
and forwards, and speaking to himself. )
CHARLES VON M. Man--man! false, perfidious crocodile-brood! Your eyes
are all tears, but your hearts steel! Kisses on your lips, but daggers
couched in your bosoms! Even lions and tigers nourish their young.
Ravens feast their brood on carrion, and he--he Malice I have learned to
bear; and I can smile when my fellest enemy drinks to me in my own
heart's blood; but when kindred turn traitors, when a father's love
becomes a fury's hate; oh, then, let manly resignation give place to
raging fire! the gentle lamb become a tiger! and every nerve strain
itself to vengeance and destruction!
ROLLER. Hark ye, Moor! What think ye of it? A robber's life is
pleasanter, after all, than to lie rotting on bread and water in the
lowest dungeon of the castle?
CHARLES VON M. Why was not this spirit implanted in a tiger which gluts
its raging jaws with human flesh? Is this a father's tenderness? Is
this love for love? Would I were a bear to rouse all the bears of the
north against this murderous race! Repentance, and no pardon! Oh, that
I could poison the ocean that men might drink death from every spring!
Contrition, implicit reliance, and no pardon!
ROLLER. But listen, Moor,--listen to what I am telling you!
CHARLES VON M. 'Tis incredible! 'tis a dream--a delusion! Such earnest
entreaty, such a vivid picture of misery and tearful penitence--a savage
beast would have been melted to compassion! stones would have wept, and
yet he--it would be thought a malicious libel upon human nature were I
to proclaim it--and yet, yet--oh, that I could sound the trumpet of
rebellion through all creation, and lead air, and earth, and sea into
battle array against this generation of hyenas!
GRIMM. Hear me, only hear me! You are deaf with raving.
CHARLES VON M. Avaunt, avaunt! Is not thy name man? Art thou not born
of woman? Out of my sight, thou thing with human visage! I loved him
so unutterably! --never son so loved a father; I would have sacrificed a
thousand lives for him (foaming and stamping the ground). Ha! where is
he that will put a sword into my hand that I may strike this generation
of vipers to the quick! Who will teach me how to reach their heart's
core, to crush, to annihilate the whole race? Such a man shall be my
friend, my angel, my god--him will I worship!
ROLLER. Such friends behold in us; be but advised!
SCHW. Come with us into the Bohemian forests! We will form a band of
robbers there, and you (MOOR stares at him).
SCHWEIT. You shall be our captain! you must be our captain!
SPIEGEL. (throws himself into a chair in a rage). Slaves and cowards!
CHARLES VON M. Who inspired thee with that thought? Hark, fellow!
(grasping ROLLER tightly) that human soul of thine did not produce it;
who suggested it to thee? Yes, by the thousand arms of death! that's
what we will, and what we must do! the thought's divine. He who
conceived it deserves to be canonized. Robbers and murderers! As my
soul lives, I am your captain!
ALL (with tumultuous shouts). Hurrah! long live our captain!
SPIEGEL. (starting up, aside). Till I give him his _coup de grace_!
CHARLES VON M. See, it falls like a film from my eyes! What a fool was
I to think of returning to be caged? My soul's athirst for deeds, my
spirit pants for freedom. Murderers, robbers! with these words I
trample the law underfoot--mankind threw off humanity when I appealed to
it. Away, then, with human sympathies and mercy! I no longer have a
father, no longer affections; blood and death shall teach me to forget
that anything was ever dear to me! Come! come! Oh, I will recreate
myself with some most fearful vengeance;--'tis resolved, I am your
captain! and success to him who Shall spread fire and slaughter the
widest and most savagely--I pledge myself He shall be right royally
rewarded. Stand around me, all of you, and swear to me fealty and
obedience unto death! Swear by this trusty right hand.
ALL (place their hands in his). We swear to thee fealty and obedience
unto death!
CHARLES VON M. And, by this same trusty right Hand, I here swear to you
to remain your captain, true and faithful unto death! This arm shall
make an instant corpse of him who doubts, or fears, or retreats. And
may the same befall me from your hands if I betray my oath! Are you
content?
[SPIEGELBERG runs up and down in a furious rage. ]
ALL (throwing up their hats). We are content!
CHARLES VON M. Well, then, let us be gone! Fear neither death nor
danger, for an unalterable destiny rules over us. Every man has his
doom, be it to die on the soft pillow of down, or in the field of blood,
or on the scaffold, or the wheel! One or the other of these must be our
lot! [Exeunt. ]
SPIEGEL. (looking after them after a pause). Your catalogue has a hole
in it. You have omitted poison.
[Exit. ]
SCENE III. --MOOR'S Castle. --AMELIA'S Chamber.
FRANCIS, AMELIA.
FRANCIS. Your face is averted from me, Amelia? Am I less worthy than
he who is accursed of his father?
AMELIA. Away! Oh! what a loving, compassionate father, who abandons
his son a prey to wolves and monsters! In his own comfortable home he
pampers himself with delicious wines and stretches his palsied limbs on
down, while his noble son is starving. Shame upon you, inhuman
wretches! Shame upon you, ye souls of dragons, ye blots on humanity! --
his only son!
FRANCIS. I thought he had two.
AMELIA. Yes, he deserves to have such sons as you are. On his deathbed
he will in vain stretch out his withered hands for his Charles, and
recoil with a shudder when he feels the ice-cold hand of his Francis.
Oh, it is sweet, deliciously sweet, to be cursed by such a father! Tell
me, Francis, dear brotherly soul--tell me what must one do to be cursed
by him?
FRANCIS. You are raving, dearest; you are to be pitied.
AMELIA. Oh! indeed. Do you pity your brother? No, monster, you hate
him! I hope you hate me too.
FRANCIS. I love you as dearly as I love myself, Amelia!
AMELIA. If you love me you will not refuse me one little request.
FRANCIS. None, none! if you ask no more than my life.
AMELIA. Oh, if that is the case! then one request, which you will so
easily, so readily grant. (Loftily. ) Hate me! I should perforce blush
crimson if, whilst thinking of Charles, it should for a moment enter my
mind that you do not hate me. You promise me this? Now go, and leave
me; I so love to be alone!
FRANCIS. Lovely enthusiast! how greatly I admire your gentle,
affectionate heart. Here, here, Charles reigned sole monarch, like a
god within his temple; he stood before thee waking, he filled your
imaination dreaming; the whole creation seemed to thee to centre in
Charles, and to reflect him alone; it gave thee no other echo but of
him.
AMELIA (with emotion). Yes, verily, I own it. Despite of you all,
barbarians as you are, I will own it before all the world. I love him!
FRANCIS. Inhuman, cruel! So to requite a love like this! To forget
her--
AMELIA (starting). What! forget me?
FRANCIS. Did you not place a ring on his finger? --a diamond ring, the
pledge of your love? To be sure how is it possible for youth to resist
the fascinations of a wanton? Who can blame him for it, since he had
nothing else left to give away? and of course she repaid him with
interest by her caresses and embraces.
AMELIA (with indignation). My ring to a wanton?
FRANCIS. Fie, fie! it is disgraceful. 'Twould not be much, however, if
that were all. A ring, be it ever so costly, is, after all, a thing
which one may always buy of a Jew.
SPIEGEL. (who has all this time been making gestures in a corner of the
room, as if working out some great project, jumps up wildly). Your
money or your life! (He catches SCHWEITZER by the throat, who very
coolly flings him against the wall; Moor drops the letter and rushes
out. A general sensation. )
ROLLER. (calling after him). Moor! where are you going? What's the
matter?
GRIMM. What ails him? What has he been doing? He is as pale as death.
SCHW. He must have got strange news. Just let us see!
ROLLER. (picks up the letter from the ground, and reads). "Unfortunate
brother! "--a pleasant beginning--"I have only briefly to inform you that
you have nothing more to hope for. You may go, your father directs me
to tell you, wherever your own vicious propensities lead. Nor are you
to entertain, he says, any hope of ever gaining pardon by weeping at his
feet, unless you are prepared to fare upon bread and water in the lowest
dungeon of his castle until your hair shall outgrow eagles' feathers,
and your nails the talons of a vulture. These are his very words. He
commands me to close the letter. Farewell forever! I pity you.
"FRANCIS VON MOOR"
SCHW. A most amiable and loving brother, in good truth! And the
scoundrel's name is Francis.
SPIEGEL. (slinking forward). Bread and water! Is that it? A
temperate diet! But I have made a better provision for you. Did I not
say that I should have to think for you all at last?
SCHWEIT. What does the blockhead say! The jackass is going to think
for us all!
SPIEGEL. Cowards, cripples, lame dogs are ye all if you have not
courage enough to venture upon something great.
ROLLER. Well, of course, so we should be, you are right; but will your
proposed scheme get us out of this devil of a scrape? eh?
SPIEGEL. (with a proud laugh). Poor thing! Get us out of this scrape?
Ha, ha, ha! Get us out of the scrape! --and is that all your thimbleful
of brain can reach? And with that you trot your mare back to the
stable? Spiegelberg would have been a miserable bungler indeed if that
were the extent of his aim. Heroes, I tell you, barons, princes, gods,
it will make of you.
RAZ. That's pretty well for one bout, truly! But no doubt it is some
neck-breaking piece of business; it will cost a head or so at the least.
SPIEGEL. It wants nothing but courage; as to the headwork, I take that
entirely upon myself. Courage, I say, Schweitzer! Courage, Roller!
Grimm! Razman! Schufterle! Courage!
SCHW. Courage! If that is all, I have courage enough to walk through
hell barefoot.
SCHUFT. And I courage enough to fight the very devil himself under the
open gallows for the rescue of any poor sinner.
SPIEGEL. That's just what it should be! If ye have courage, let any
one of you step forward and say he has still something to lose, and not
everything to gain?
SCHW. Verily, I should have a good deal to lose, if I were to lose all
that I have yet to win!
PAZ. Yes, by Jove! and I much to win, if I could win all that I have
not got to lose.
SCHUFT. Were I to lose what I carry on my back on trust I should at any
rate have nothing to lose on the morrow.
SPIEGEL. Very well then! (He takes his place in the middle of them,
and says in solemn adjuration)--if but a drop of the heroic blood of the
ancient Germans still flow in your veins--come! We will fix our abode
in the Bohemian forests, draw together a band of robbers, and--What are
you gaping at? Has your slender stock of courage oozed out already?
ROLLER. You are not the first rogue by many that has defied the
gallows;--and yet what other choice have we?
SPIEGEL. Choice? You have no choice. Do you want to lie rotting in
the debtor's jail and beat hemp till you are bailed by the last trumpet?
Would you toil with pick-axe and spade for a morsel of dry bread? or
earn a pitiful alms by singing doleful ditties under people's windows?
Or will you be sworn at the drumhead--and then comes the question,
whether anybody would trust your hang-dog visages--and so under the
splenetic humor of some despotic sergeant serve your time of purgatory
in advance? Would you like to run the gauntlet to the beat of the drum?
or be doomed to drag after you, like a galley-slave, the whole iron
store of Vulcan? Behold your choice. You have before you the complete
catalogue of all that you may choose from!
ROLLER. Spiegelberg is not altogether wrong! I, too, have been
concocting plans, but they come much to the same thing. How would it
be, thought I, were we to club our wits together, and dish up a
pocketbook, or an almanac, or something of that sort, and write reviews
at a penny a line, as is now the fashion?
SCHUFT. The devil's in you! you are pretty nearly hitting on my own
schemes. I have been thinking to myself how would it answer were I to
turn Methodist, and hold weekly prayer-meetings?
GRIMM. Capital! and, if that fails, turn atheist! We might fall foul of
the four Gospels, get our book burned by the hangman, and then it would
sell at a prodigious rate.
RAZ. Or we might take the field to cure a fashionable ailment. I know
a quack doctor who has built himself a house with nothing but mercury,
as the motto over his door implies.
SCHWEIT. (rises and holds out his hand to Spiegelberg). Spiegelberg,
thou art a great man! or else a blind hog has by chance found an acorn.
SCHW. Excellent schemes! Honorable professions! How great minds
sympathize! All that seems wanting to complete the list is that we
should turn pimps and bawds.
SPIEGEL. Pooh! Pooh! Nonsense. And what is to prevent our combining
most of these occupations in one person? My plan will exalt you the
most, and it holds out glory and immortality into the bargain.
Remember, too, ye sorry varlets, and it is a matter worthy of
consideration: one's fame hereafter--the sweet thought of immortality--
ROLLER. And that at the very head of the muster-roll of honorable
names! You are a master of eloquence, Spiegelberg, when the question is
how to convert an honest man into a scoundrel. But does any one know
what has become of Moor?
SPIEGEL. Honest, say you? Do you think you'll be less honest then than
you are now? What do you call honest? To relieve rich misers of half
of those cares which only scare golden sleep from their eyelids; to
force hoarded coin into circulation; to restore the equalization of
property; in one word, to bring back the golden age; to relieve
Providence of many a burdensome pensioner, and so save it the trouble of
sending war, pestilence, famine, and above all, doctors--that is what I
call honesty, d'ye see; that's what I call being a worthy instrument in
the hand of Providence,--and then, at every meal you eat, to have the
sweet reflection: this is what thy own ingenuity, thy lion boldness, thy
night watchings, have procured for thee--to command the respect both of
great and small!
ROLLER. And at last to mount towards heaven in the living body, and in
spite of wind and storm, in spite of the greedy maw of old father Time,
to be hovering beneath the sun and moon and all the stars of the
firmament, where even the unreasoning birds of heaven, attracted by
noble instinct, chant their seraphic music, and angels with tails hold
their most holy councils? Don't you see? And, while monarchs and
potentates become a prey to moths and worms, to have the honor of
receiving visits from the royal bird of Jove. Moritz, Moritz, Moritz!
beware of the three-legged beast. *
*[The gallows, which in Germany is formed of three posts. ]
SPIEGEL. And does that fright thee, craven-heart? Has not many a
universal genius, who might have reformed the world, rotted upon the
gallows? And does not the renown of such a man live for hundreds and
thousands of years, whereas many a king and elector would be passed over
in history, were not historians obliged to give him a niche to complete
the line of succession, or that the mention of him did not swell the
volume a few octavo pages, for which he counts upon hard cash from the
publisher. And when the wayfarer sees you swinging to and fro in the
breeze he will mutter to himself, "That fellow's brains had no water in
them, I'll warrant me," and then groan over the hardship of the times.
SCHWEIT. (slaps him on the shoulder). Well said, Spiegelberg! Well
said! Why the devil do we stand here hesitating?
SCHW. And suppose it is called disgrace--what then? Cannot one, in
case of need, always carry a small powder about one, which quietly
smooths the weary traveller's passage across the Styx, where no
cock-crowing will disturb his rest? No, brother Moritz! Your scheme is
good; so at least says my creed.
SCHUFT. Zounds! and mine too! Spiegelberg, I am your recruit.
RAZ. Like a second Orpheus, Spiegelberg, you have charmed to sleep that
howling beast, conscience! Take me as I stand, I am yours entirely!
GRIMMM. _Si omnes consentiunt ego non dissentio_;* mind, without a
comma. There is an auction going on in my head--methodists--quack
doctors--reviewers--rogues;--the highest bidder has me. Here is my
hand, Moritz!
*[The joke is explained by placing a comma after non. ]
ROLLER. And you too, Schweitzer? (he gives his right hand to
SPIEGELBERG). Thus I consign my soul to the devil.
SPIEGEL. And your name to the stars! What does it signify where the
soul goes to? If crowds of _avantcouriers_ give notice of our descent
that the devils may put on their holiday gear, wipe the accumulated soot
of a thousand years from their eyelashes, and myriads of horned heads
pop up from the smoking mouth of their sulphurous chimneys to welcome
our arrival! 'Up, comrades! (leaping up). Up! What in the world is
equal to this ecstacy of delight? Come along, comrades!
ROLLER. Gently, gently! Where are you going? Every beast must have a
head, boys!
SPIEGEL. (With bitterness). What is that incubus preaching about? Was
not the head already there before a single limb began to move? Follow
me, comrades!
ROLLER. Gently, I say! even liberty must have its master.
Rome and
Sparta perished for want of a chief.
SPIEGEL. (in a wheedling manner). Yes,--stay--Roller is right. And he
must have an enlightened head. Do you understand? A keen, politic
head. Yes! when I think what you were only an hour ago, and what you
are now, and that it is all owing to one happy thought. Yes, of course,
you must have a chief, and you'll own that he who struck out this idea
may claim to have an enlightened and politic head?
ROLLER. If one could hope, if one could dream, but I fear he will not
consent.
SPIEGEL. Why not? Speak out boldly, friend! Difficult as it may be to
steer a laboring vessel against wind and tide, oppressive as may be the
weight of a crown, speak your thought without hesitation, Roller!
Perhaps he may be prevailed upon after all!
ROLLER. And if he does not the whole vessel will be crazy enough.
Without Moor we are a "body without a soul. "
SPIEGEL. (turning angrily from him). Dolt! blockhead!
(Enter CHARLES VON MOOR in violent agitation, stalking backwards
and forwards, and speaking to himself. )
CHARLES VON M. Man--man! false, perfidious crocodile-brood! Your eyes
are all tears, but your hearts steel! Kisses on your lips, but daggers
couched in your bosoms! Even lions and tigers nourish their young.
Ravens feast their brood on carrion, and he--he Malice I have learned to
bear; and I can smile when my fellest enemy drinks to me in my own
heart's blood; but when kindred turn traitors, when a father's love
becomes a fury's hate; oh, then, let manly resignation give place to
raging fire! the gentle lamb become a tiger! and every nerve strain
itself to vengeance and destruction!
ROLLER. Hark ye, Moor! What think ye of it? A robber's life is
pleasanter, after all, than to lie rotting on bread and water in the
lowest dungeon of the castle?
CHARLES VON M. Why was not this spirit implanted in a tiger which gluts
its raging jaws with human flesh? Is this a father's tenderness? Is
this love for love? Would I were a bear to rouse all the bears of the
north against this murderous race! Repentance, and no pardon! Oh, that
I could poison the ocean that men might drink death from every spring!
Contrition, implicit reliance, and no pardon!
ROLLER. But listen, Moor,--listen to what I am telling you!
CHARLES VON M. 'Tis incredible! 'tis a dream--a delusion! Such earnest
entreaty, such a vivid picture of misery and tearful penitence--a savage
beast would have been melted to compassion! stones would have wept, and
yet he--it would be thought a malicious libel upon human nature were I
to proclaim it--and yet, yet--oh, that I could sound the trumpet of
rebellion through all creation, and lead air, and earth, and sea into
battle array against this generation of hyenas!
GRIMM. Hear me, only hear me! You are deaf with raving.
CHARLES VON M. Avaunt, avaunt! Is not thy name man? Art thou not born
of woman? Out of my sight, thou thing with human visage! I loved him
so unutterably! --never son so loved a father; I would have sacrificed a
thousand lives for him (foaming and stamping the ground). Ha! where is
he that will put a sword into my hand that I may strike this generation
of vipers to the quick! Who will teach me how to reach their heart's
core, to crush, to annihilate the whole race? Such a man shall be my
friend, my angel, my god--him will I worship!
ROLLER. Such friends behold in us; be but advised!
SCHW. Come with us into the Bohemian forests! We will form a band of
robbers there, and you (MOOR stares at him).
SCHWEIT. You shall be our captain! you must be our captain!
SPIEGEL. (throws himself into a chair in a rage). Slaves and cowards!
CHARLES VON M. Who inspired thee with that thought? Hark, fellow!
(grasping ROLLER tightly) that human soul of thine did not produce it;
who suggested it to thee? Yes, by the thousand arms of death! that's
what we will, and what we must do! the thought's divine. He who
conceived it deserves to be canonized. Robbers and murderers! As my
soul lives, I am your captain!
ALL (with tumultuous shouts). Hurrah! long live our captain!
SPIEGEL. (starting up, aside). Till I give him his _coup de grace_!
CHARLES VON M. See, it falls like a film from my eyes! What a fool was
I to think of returning to be caged? My soul's athirst for deeds, my
spirit pants for freedom. Murderers, robbers! with these words I
trample the law underfoot--mankind threw off humanity when I appealed to
it. Away, then, with human sympathies and mercy! I no longer have a
father, no longer affections; blood and death shall teach me to forget
that anything was ever dear to me! Come! come! Oh, I will recreate
myself with some most fearful vengeance;--'tis resolved, I am your
captain! and success to him who Shall spread fire and slaughter the
widest and most savagely--I pledge myself He shall be right royally
rewarded. Stand around me, all of you, and swear to me fealty and
obedience unto death! Swear by this trusty right hand.
ALL (place their hands in his). We swear to thee fealty and obedience
unto death!
CHARLES VON M. And, by this same trusty right Hand, I here swear to you
to remain your captain, true and faithful unto death! This arm shall
make an instant corpse of him who doubts, or fears, or retreats. And
may the same befall me from your hands if I betray my oath! Are you
content?
[SPIEGELBERG runs up and down in a furious rage. ]
ALL (throwing up their hats). We are content!
CHARLES VON M. Well, then, let us be gone! Fear neither death nor
danger, for an unalterable destiny rules over us. Every man has his
doom, be it to die on the soft pillow of down, or in the field of blood,
or on the scaffold, or the wheel! One or the other of these must be our
lot! [Exeunt. ]
SPIEGEL. (looking after them after a pause). Your catalogue has a hole
in it. You have omitted poison.
[Exit. ]
SCENE III. --MOOR'S Castle. --AMELIA'S Chamber.
FRANCIS, AMELIA.
FRANCIS. Your face is averted from me, Amelia? Am I less worthy than
he who is accursed of his father?
AMELIA. Away! Oh! what a loving, compassionate father, who abandons
his son a prey to wolves and monsters! In his own comfortable home he
pampers himself with delicious wines and stretches his palsied limbs on
down, while his noble son is starving. Shame upon you, inhuman
wretches! Shame upon you, ye souls of dragons, ye blots on humanity! --
his only son!
FRANCIS. I thought he had two.
AMELIA. Yes, he deserves to have such sons as you are. On his deathbed
he will in vain stretch out his withered hands for his Charles, and
recoil with a shudder when he feels the ice-cold hand of his Francis.
Oh, it is sweet, deliciously sweet, to be cursed by such a father! Tell
me, Francis, dear brotherly soul--tell me what must one do to be cursed
by him?
FRANCIS. You are raving, dearest; you are to be pitied.
AMELIA. Oh! indeed. Do you pity your brother? No, monster, you hate
him! I hope you hate me too.
FRANCIS. I love you as dearly as I love myself, Amelia!
AMELIA. If you love me you will not refuse me one little request.
FRANCIS. None, none! if you ask no more than my life.
AMELIA. Oh, if that is the case! then one request, which you will so
easily, so readily grant. (Loftily. ) Hate me! I should perforce blush
crimson if, whilst thinking of Charles, it should for a moment enter my
mind that you do not hate me. You promise me this? Now go, and leave
me; I so love to be alone!
FRANCIS. Lovely enthusiast! how greatly I admire your gentle,
affectionate heart. Here, here, Charles reigned sole monarch, like a
god within his temple; he stood before thee waking, he filled your
imaination dreaming; the whole creation seemed to thee to centre in
Charles, and to reflect him alone; it gave thee no other echo but of
him.
AMELIA (with emotion). Yes, verily, I own it. Despite of you all,
barbarians as you are, I will own it before all the world. I love him!
FRANCIS. Inhuman, cruel! So to requite a love like this! To forget
her--
AMELIA (starting). What! forget me?
FRANCIS. Did you not place a ring on his finger? --a diamond ring, the
pledge of your love? To be sure how is it possible for youth to resist
the fascinations of a wanton? Who can blame him for it, since he had
nothing else left to give away? and of course she repaid him with
interest by her caresses and embraces.
AMELIA (with indignation). My ring to a wanton?
FRANCIS. Fie, fie! it is disgraceful. 'Twould not be much, however, if
that were all. A ring, be it ever so costly, is, after all, a thing
which one may always buy of a Jew.
