No More Learning

_ 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_. No--the Prince's,
And not the stranger's.

_Iden. _ Sirrah! in the Prince's
Absence, I am sovereign; and the Baron is
My intimate connection;--"Cousin Idenstein!
(Quoth he) you'll order out a dozen villains. "
And so, you villains! troop--march--march, I say;
And if a single dog's ear of this packet 690
Be sprinkled by the Oder--look to it!
For every page of paper, shall a hide
Of yours be stretched as parchment on a drum,
Like Ziska's skin,[169] to beat alarm to all
Refractory vassals, who can not effect
Impossibilities. --Away, ye earth-worms!
[_Exit, driving them out_.

_Jos. _ (_coming forward_).
I fain would shun these scenes, too oft repeated,
Of feudal tyranny o'er petty victims;
I cannot aid, and will not witness such.
Even here, in this remote, unnamed, dull spot, 700
The dimmest in the district's map, exist
The insolence of wealth in poverty
O'er something poorer still--the pride of rank
In servitude, o'er something still more servile;
And vice in misery affecting still
A tattered splendour. What a state of being!
In Tuscany, my own dear sunny land,
Our nobles were but citizens and merchants,[170]
Like Cosmo. We had evils, but not such
As these; and our all-ripe and gushing valleys 710
Made poverty more cheerful, where each herb
Was in itself a meal, and every vine
Rained, as it were, the beverage which makes glad
The heart of man; and the ne'er unfelt sun
(But rarely clouded, and when clouded, leaving
His warmth behind in memory of his beams)
Makes the worn mantle, and the thin robe, less
Oppressive than an emperor's jewelled purple.
But, here! the despots of the north appear
To imitate the ice-wind of their clime, 720
Searching the shivering vassal through his rags,
To wring his soul--as the bleak elements
His form. And 'tis to be amongst these sovereigns
My husband pants! and such his pride of birth--
That twenty years of usage, such as no
Father born in a humble state could nerve
His soul to persecute a son withal,
Hath changed no atom of his early nature;
But I, born nobly also, from my father's
Kindness was taught a different lesson. Father! 730
May thy long-tried and now rewarded spirit
Look down on us and our so long desired
Ulric! I love my son, as thou didst me!
What's that? Thou, Werner! can it be? and thus?

_Enter_ WERNER _hastily, with the knife in his hand,
by the secret panel, which he closes hurriedly after him_.

_Wer. _ (_not at first recognising her_).
Discovered! then I'll stab--(_recognising her_). Ah! Josephine
Why art thou not at rest?

_Jos. _ What rest? My God!
What doth this mean?

_Wer. _ (_showing a rouleau_).
Here's _gold_--_gold_, Josephine,
Will rescue us from this detested dungeon.

_Jos. _ And how obtained? --that knife!

_Wer. _ 'Tis bloodless--_yet_.
Away--we must to our chamber.

_Jos. _ But whence comest thou? 740

_Wer. _ Ask not! but let us think where we shall go--
This--this will make us way--(_showing the gold_)--I'll fit them now.

_Jos. _ I dare not think thee guilty of dishonour.

_Wer. _ Dishonour!

_Jos. _ I have said it.

_Wer. _ Let us hence:
'Tis the last night, I trust, that we need pass here.

_Jos. _ And not the worst, I hope.

_Wer. _ Hope! I make _sure_.
But let us to our chamber.

_Jos. _ Yet one question--
What hast thou _done_?

_Wer. _ (_fiercely_). Left one thing _undone_, which
Had made all well: let me not think of it!
Away!

_Jos. _ Alas that I should doubt of thee! 750
[_Exeunt_.




ACT II.

SCENE I. --_A Hall in the same Palace_.

_Enter_ IDENSTEIN _and Others_.

_Iden. _ Fine doings! goodly doings! honest doings!
A Baron pillaged in a Prince's palace!