No More Learning

SCHWARZ. Moor! Moor! Why, what the deuce! How his color changes.

GRIMM. By all the devils! What ails him? Is he ill?

CHARLES. There was a time when I could not have slept had I forgotten
my evening prayers.

GRIMM. Are you beside yourself? Would you let the remembrances of your
boyish years school you now?

CHARLES (lays his head upon the breast of GRIMM). Brother! Brother!

GRIMM. Come! Don't play the child--I pray you

CHARLES. Oh that I were-that I were again a child!

GRIMM. Fie! fie!

SCHWARZ. Cheer up! Behold this smiling landscape--this delicious
evening!

CHARLES. Yes, friends, this world is very lovely--

SCHWARZ. Come, now, that was well said.

CHARLES. This earth so glorious! --

GRIMM. Right--right--I love to hear you talk thus.

CHARLES. (sinking back). And I so hideous in' this lovely world--
a monster on this glorious earth!

GRIMM. Oh dear! oh dear!

CHARLES. My innocence! give me back my innocence! Behold, every living
thing is gone forth to bask in the cheering rays of the vernal sun--why
must I alone inhale the torments of hell out of the joys of heaven? All
are so happy, all so united in brotherly love, by the spirit of peace!
The whole world one family, and one Father above--but He not my father!
I alone the outcast, I alone rejected from the ranks of the blessed--the
sweet name of child is not for me--never for me the soul-thrilling
glance of her I love--never, never the bosom friend's embrace--(starting
back wildly)--surrounded by murderers--hemmed in by hissing vipers--
riveted to vice with iron fetters--whirling headlong on the frail reed
of sin to the gulf of perdition--amid the blooming flowers of a glad
world, a howling Abaddon!

SCHWARZ (to the others). How strange! I never saw him thus before.

CHARLES (with melancholy). Oh, that I might return again to my mother's
womb. That I might be born a beggar! I should desire no more,--no
more, oh heaven! --but that I might be like one of those poor laborers!
Oh, I would toil till the blood streamed down my temples--to buy myself
the luxury of one guiltless slumber--the blessedness of a single tear.

GRIMM (to the others). A little patience--the paroxysm is nearly over.

CHARLES. There was a time when my tears flowed so freely. Oh, those
days of peace! Dear home of my fathers--ye verdant halcyon vales!
O all ye Elysian scenes of my childhood! --will you never return? --will
your delicious breezes never cool my burning bosom? Mourn with me,
Nature, mourn! They will never return! never will their delicious
breezes cool my burning bosom! They are gone! gone! irrevocably gone!

Enter SCHWEITZER with water in his hat.

SCHWEITZER (offering him water in his hat). Drink, captain; here is
plenty of water, and cold as ice.

SCHWARZ. You are bleeding! What have you been doing?

SCHWEITZER. A bit of a freak, you fool, which had well-nigh cost me two
legs and a neck. As I was frolicking along the steep sandbanks of the
river, plump, in a moment, the whole concern slid from under me, and I
after it, some ten fathoms deep;--there I lay, and, as I was recovering
my five senses, lo and behold, the most sparkling water in the gravel!
Not so much amiss this time, said I to myself, for the caper I have cut.
The captain will be sure to relish a drink.

CHARLES (returns him the hat and wipes his face). But you are covered
with mud, Schweitzer, and we can't see the scar which the Bohemian
horseman marked on your forehead--your water was good, Schweitzer--and
those scars become you well.

SCHWEITZER. Bah! There's room for a score or two more yet.

CHARLES. Yes, boys--it was a hot day's work--and only one man lost.
Poor Roller! he died a noble death. A marble monument would be erected
to his memory had he died in any other cause than mine. Let this
suffice. (He wipes the tears from his eyes. ) How many, did you say, of
the enemy were left on the field?

SCHWEITZER. A hundred and sixty huzzars, ninety-three dragoons, some
forty chasseurs--in all about three hundred.

CHARLES. Three hundred for one! Every one of you has a claim upon this
head. (He bares his head. ) By this uplifted dagger! As my Soul liveth,
I will never forsake you!

SCHWEITZER. Swear not! You do not know but you may yet be happy, and
repent your oath.

CHARLES. By the ashes of my Roller! I will never forsake you.

Enter KOSINSKY.

KOSINSKY (aside). Hereabouts, they say, I shall find him. Ha! What
faces are these? Should they be--if these--they must be the men! Yes,
'tis they,'tis they! I will accost them.

SCHWARZ. Take heed! Who goes there?

KOSINSKY. Pardon, sirs. I know not whether I am going right or wrong.

CHARLES. Suppose right, whom do you take us to be?

KOSINSKY. Men!

SCHWEITZER. I wonder, captain, whether we have given any proof of that?

KOSINSKY. I am in search of men who can look death in the face, and let
danger play around then like a tamed snake; who prize liberty above life
or honor; whose very names, hailed by the poor and the oppressed, appal
the boldest, and make tyrants tremble.

SCHWEITZER (to the Captain). I like that fellow. Hark ye, friend! You
have found your men.

KOSINSKY. So I should think, and I hope soon to find them brothers.
You can direct me to the man I am looking for. 'Tis your captain, the
great Count von Moor.

SCHWEITZER (taking him warmly by the hand). There's a good lad. You
and I must be chums.

CHARLES (coming nearer). Do you know the captain?

KOSINSKY. Thou art he! --in those features--that air--who can look at
thee, and doubt it? (Looks earnestly at him for some time). I have
always wished to see the man with the annihilating look, as he sat on
the ruins of Carthage. * That wish is realized.

*[Alluding to Caius Marius. See Plutarch's Lives. ]

SCHWEITZER. A mettlesome fellow! --

CHARLES. And what brings you to me?

KOSINSKY. Oh, captain! my more than cruel fate. I have suffered
shipwrecked on the stormy ocean of the world; I have seen all my fondest
hopes perish; and nought remains to me but a remembrance of the bitter
past, which would drive me to madness, were I not to drown it by
directing my energies to new objects.

CHARLES. Another arraignment of the ways of Providence! Proceed.

KOSINSKY. I became a soldier. Misfortune still followed me in the
army. I made a venture to the Indies, and my ship was shivered on the
rocks--nothing but frustrated hopes! At last, I heard tell far and wide
of your valiant deeds, incendiarisms, as they called them, and I came
straightway hither, a distance of thirty leagues, firmly resolved to
serve under you, if you will deign to accept my services. I entreat
thee, noble captain, refuse me not!

SCHWEITZER (with a leap into the air). Hurrah! Hurrah! Our Roller
replaced ten hundred-fold! An out-and-out brother cut-throat for our
troop.

CHARLES. What is your name?

KOSINSKY. Kosinsky.

CHARLES. What? Kosinsky! And do you know that you are but a
thoughtless boy, and are embarking on the most weighty passage of your
life as heedlessly as a giddy girl? You will find no playing at bowls
or ninepins here, as you probably imagine.

KOSINSKY. I understand you, sir. I am,'tis true, but four-and-twenty
years old, but I have seen swords glittering, and have heard balls
whistling around me.

CHARLES. Indeed, young gentleman? And was it for this that you took
fencing lessons, to run poor travellers through the body for the sake of
a dollar, or stab women in the back? Go! go! You have played truant to
your nurse because she shook the rod at you.

SCHWEITZER. Why, what the devil, captain! what are you about? Do you
mean to turn away such a Hercules? Does he not look as if he could
baste Marechal Saxe across the Ganges with a ladle?

CHARLES. Because your silly schemes miscarry, you come here to turn
rogue and assassin! Murder, boy, do you know the meaning of that word?
You may have slumbered in peace after cropping a few poppy-heads, but to
have a murder on your soul--

KOSINSKY. All the murders you bid me commit be upon my head!

CHARLES. What! Are you so nimble-witted? Do you take measure of a man
to catch him by flattery? How do you know that I am not haunted by
terrific dreams, or that I shall not tremble on my death-bed? --How much
have you already done of which you have considered the responsibility?

KOSINSKY. Very little, I must confess; excepting this long journey to
you, noble count--

CHARLES. Has your tutor let the story of Robin Hood--get into your
hands? Such careless rascals ought to be sent to the galleys. And has
it heated your childish fancy, and infected you with the mania of
becoming a hero? Are you thirsting for honor and fame? Would you buy
immortality by deeds of incendiarism? Mark me, ambitious youth! No
laurel blooms for the incendiary. No triumph awaits the victories of
the bandit--nothing but curses, danger, death, disgrace. Do you see the
gibbet yonder on the hill?

SPIEGEL (going up and down indignantly). Oh, how stupid! How
abominably, unpardonably stupid! That's not the way. I went to work
in a very different manner.

KOSINSKY. What should he fear, who fears not death?

CHARLES. Bravo! Capital! You have made good use of your time at
school; you have got your Seneca cleverly by heart. But, my good
friend, you will not be able with these fine phrases to cajole nature
in the hour of suffering; they will never blunt the biting tooth of
remorse. Ponder on it well, my son! (Takes him by the hand. ) I advise
you as a father. First learn the depth of the abyss before you plunge
headlong into it. If in this world you can catch a single glimpse of
happiness--moments may come when you-awake,--and then--it may be too
late. Here you step out as it were beyond the pale of humanity--you
must either be more than human or a demon. Once more, my son! if but
a single spark of hope glimmer for you elsewhere, fly this fearful
compact, where nought but despair enters, unless a higher wisdom has so
ordained it. You may deceive yourself--believe me, it is possible to
mistake that for strength of mind which in reality is nothing more than
despair. Take my counsel! mine! and depart quickly.

KOSINSKY. No! I will not stir. If my entreaties fail to move you, hear
but the story of my misfortunes. And then you will force the dagger
into my hand as eagerly as you now seek to withhold it. Seat yourselves
awhile on the grass and listen.

CHARLES. I will hear your story.

KOSINSKY. Know, then, that I am a Bohemian nobleman. By the early
death of my father I became master of large possessions. The scene of
my domain was a paradise; for it contained an angel--a maid adorned with
all the charms of blooming youth, and chaste as the light of heaven.
But to whom do I talk of this? It falls unheeded on your cars--ye never
loved, ye were never beloved--

SCHWEITZER. Gently, gently! The captain grows red as fire.

CHARLES. No more! I'll hear you some other time--to-morrow,--or
by-and-by, or--after I have seen blood.

KOSINSKY. Blood, blood! Only hear on! Blood will fill your whole
soul. She was of citizen birth, a German--but her look dissolved all
the prejudices of aristocracy. With blushing modesty she received the
bridal ring from my hand, and on the morrow I was to have led my AMELIA
to the altar. (CHARLES rises suddenly. ) In the midst of my intoxicating
dream of happiness, and while our nuptials were preparing, an express
summoned me to court. I obeyed the summons. Letters were shown me
which I was said to have written, full of treasonable matter. I grew
scarlet with indignation at such malice; they deprived me of my sword,
thrust me into prison, and all my senses forsook me.

SCHWEITZER. And in the meantime--go on! I already scent the game.

KOSINSKY. There I lay a whole month, and knew not what was taking
place. I was full of anxiety for my Amelia, who I was sure would suffer
the pangs of death every moment in apprehension of my fate. At last the
prime minister makes his appearance,--congratulates me in honey-sweet
words on the establishment of my innocence,--reads to me a warrant of
discharge,--and returns me my sword. I flew in triumph to my castle, to
the arms of my Amelia, but she had disappeared! She had been carried
off, it was said, at midnight, no one knew whither, and no eye had
beheld her since. A suspicion instantly flashed across my mind. I
rushed to the capital--I made inquiries at court--all eyes were upon
me,--no one would give me information. At last I discovered her through
a grated window of the palace--she threw me a small billet.

SCHWEITZER. Did I not say so?

KOSINSKY. Death and destruction! The contents were these! They had
given her the choice between seeing me put to death, and becoming the
mistress of the prince. In the struggle between honor and love she
chose the latter, and (with a bitter smile) I was saved.

SCHWEITZER. And what did you do then?

KOSINSKY. Then I stood like one transfixed with a thunderbolt! Blood
was my first thought, blood my last! Foaming at the mouth, I ran to my
quarters, armed myself with a two-edged sword, and, with all haste,
rushed to the minister's house, for he--he alone--had been the fiendish
pander. They must have observed me in the street, for, as I went up, I
found all the doors fastened. I searched, I enquired. He was gone,
they said, to the prince. I went straight thither, but nobody there
would know anything about him. I return, force the doors, find the base
wretch, and was on the point when five or six servants suddenly rushed
on me from behind, and wrenched the weapon from my hands.

SCHWEITZER (stamping the ground). And so the fellow got off clear, and
you lost your labor?

KOSINSKY. I was arrested, accused, criminally prosecuted, degraded,
and--mark this--transported beyond the frontier, as a special favor. My
estates were confiscated to the minister, and Amelia remained in the
clutches of the tiger, where she weeps and mourns away her life, while
my vengeance must keep a fast, and crouch submissively to the yoke of
despotism.

SCHWEITZER (rising and whetting his sword). That is grist to our mill,
captain! There is something here for the incendiaries!

CHARLES (who has been walking up and down in violent agitation, with a
sudden start to the ROBBERS). I must see her. Up! collect your
baggage--you'll stay with us, Kosinsky! Quick, pack up!

THE ROBBERS. Where to? What?

CHARLES. Where to? Who asks that question? (Fiercely to SCHWEITZER)
Traitor, wouldst thou keep me back? But by the hope for heaven!

SCHWEITZER. I, a traitor? Lead on to hell and I will follow you!

CHARLES (falling on his neck). Dear brother! thou shalt follow me. She
weeps, she mourns away her life. Up! quickly! all of you! to
Franconia! In a week we must be there.
[Exeunt. ]




ACT IV.

SCENE I. --Rural scenery in the neighborhood of
CHARLES VON MOOR'S castle.

CHARLES VON MOOR, KOSINSKY, at a distance.

CHARLES. Go forward, and announce me. You remember what you have to
say?

KOSINSKY. You are Count Brand, you come from Mecklenburg. I am your
groom. Do not fear, I shall take care to play my part. Farewell!
[Exit. ]

CHARLES. Hail to thee, Earth of my Fatherland (kisses the earth. )
Heaven of my Fatherland! Sun of my Fatherland! Ye meadows and hills,
ye streams and woods! Hail, hail to ye all! How deliciously the
breezes are wafted from my native hills? What streams of balmy perfume
greet the poor fugitive! Elysium! Realms of poetry! Stay, Moor, thy
foot has strayed into a holy temple. (Comes nearer. )

See there! the old swallow-nests in the castle yard! ---and the little
garden-gate! --and this corner of the fence where I so often watched in
ambuscade to teaze old Towzer! --and down there in the green valley,
where, as the great Alexander, I led my Macedonians to the battle of
Arbela; and the grassy hillock yonder, from which I hurled the Persian
satrap--and then waved on high my victorious banner! (He smiles. ) The
golden age of boyhood lives again in the soul of the outcast. I was
then so happy, so wholly, so cloudlessly happy--and now--behold all my
prospects a wreck! Here should I have presided, a great, a noble, an
honored man--here have--lived over again the years of boyhood in the
blooming--children of my Amelia--here! --here have been the idol of my
people--but the foul fiend opposed it (Starting. ) Why am I here? To
feel like the captive when the clanking of his chains awakes him from
his dream of liberty. No, let me return to my wretchedness! The
captive had forgotten the light of day, but the dream of liberty flashes
past his eyes like a blaze of lightning in the night, which leaves it
darker than before. Farewell, ye native vales! once ye saw Charles as a
boy, and then Charles was happy. Now ye have seen the man his happiness
turned to despair! (He moves rapidly towards the most distant point of
the landscape, where he suddenly stops and casts a melancholy look
across to the castle. ) Not to behold her! not even one look? --and only
a wall between me and Amelia! No! see her I must! --and him too! --though
it crush me! (He turns back. ) Father! father! thy son approaches. Away
with thee, black, reeking gore! Away with that grim, ghastly look of
death! Oh, give me but this one hour free! Amelia! Father! thy
Charles approaches! (He goes quickly towards the castle. ) Torment me
when the morning dawns--give me no rest with the coming night--beset me
in frightful dreams! But, oh! poison not this my only hour of bliss!