Was sind Hoffungen-was sind Entwurfe SCHILLER-Braut von Missin, What are the idle hopes and futile plans Formed by mankind, the hour's fleeting children, Upon foundations shifting and unstable? Frederic von Issendorff was the friend I most valued; I looked upon him with a painful interest, he was so delicate, so melancholy. Deep feeling and noble thought were stamped on his pale and almost femininely-beautiful features. He was of middle height, slender and graceful, with light hair and beautiful blue eyes. His very appearance prepossessed you in his favor. Bodily he was not strong, and yet he never shrank under any exertion; brave as a lion, proud and sensitive, he was peculiarly alive to slight and injury, perhaps the more so because of his poverty, sad inheritance of his lofty and powerful line, and from his want of physical strength, which sometimes would subject him to insults, from which others would escape.But thus did his mind subdue his body to his will, that the strongest could not resist the fierce and sudden impulse of his anger. He scorned the confining trammels of college and discipline, but rose superior to them; he did not sink into the gulf of dissipation, for poetry threw a halo around his thoughts, and the true feelings of chivalry were in his breast. In the middle ages he would have been a knightly troubadour; in the present he was the unvalued, unappreciated member of society that knew him not-born to waste his mighty talents in obscurity, to die unpitied and unknown. His companions never liked him, and he was unkindly treated by all-unkindly as they dared, for they had learned to fear the mighty spirit that seemed slumbering among flowers. Yet this preyed upon him. That fiery spirit could not sink and droop,-but its own flames devoured it. I felt that he was doomed to be unhappy, for he was, as it were, not a being of this earth, at least not of this age. His feeling was called sentimentality; his high spirit, morbid pride; his noble bearing, haughtiness, that sat ill, it was remarked, on one whose poverty would force him to fill a dependent and inferior station in life. And there were many among his 1841. colleagues, who, rich and influential, would stand above him in after years, and have it in their power to command his obedience. Haughty spirit, how wilt thou learn to bend to those thou scornest?-to those infinitely be. neath thee? To those who have quailed before thee, all feeble as thou art? Issendorff-much fear thy noble and gentle heart will be deeply hurt, will be wounded to the death. Oh! had I the power of a god to bring those who will crush thee to thy feet. Bear up, brave spirit-thou mayest triumph yet, and relight the star of thy destiny with an immortal fire. It was with feelings of happy hope that I beheld him form an attachment for a young lady as remarkable for beauty as good qualities. She was, in fact, the counterpart of himself; she echoed all his thoughts and feelings, for they were her own. He beheld his sentiments again in her's, though in gentler guise, as the glorious star reflected in the mellowing mirror of the sea, as lovely, but more softly bright. They were made for each other, if ever mortals were; it were cruelty to part them-nay, it were vain, for those two congenial spirits were sure to draw together; even if separated by distance or by death, they would still be together in their thoughts. Need it be told how passionately two beings like these were attached ? Could it be otherwise, when the one was, as it were, the vital principle of the other? They lovedTHEY that tells it all. Of the highest birth, her choice would honor the first in the land, and men marvelled when she stopped to the poor young student, marvelled-though he was as highly born as she. An additional dislike was felt against Issendorff from that moment, and I trembled lest some insolent fop should intentionally insult him, perhaps by her side. I trembled every morning, lest I should hear of his death, or see his glorious form borne past me pale and cold on a bier, with the sword-wound seal of death upon his breast. I watched him with an intensity of pain, as his brow clouded and his eye flashed whenever a remark of doubtful meaning was made by an empty fool, or whenever the name of Louisa von Adelheim was mentioned. how often was that word spoken by the frivo. lous and depraved! he felt it a profanation from And their lips; I feared lest it should be coupled with any light remark. How unlike was Adolph von Adelheim to his sister and to Issendorff! He was fully as proud, but dissipated, wild, reckless, and addicted to every vice-need I say more than this, he was a professed duellist. I feared that Issendorff and he would never be on friendly terms, and I was not deceived. He treated the suitor of his sister with marked rudeness, nay, almost insult. All wondered at Issendorff's forbearance in submitting to such conduct, and detracting remarks were circulated as to its cause. The sneers and cutting jests were scarcely concealed in his presence. I saw the indignation that overwhelmed him, ready to burst forth every moment; but he restrained it still. The young student's suit had never been looked kindly on by the family of Adelheim, who had intended a more wealthy and powerful alliance for their daughter. Her mother, it is true, favored him, (her father was no more), but all the rest, foremost amongst whom was Adolph, were decidedly against it. Otto, Count of Altweil was the constant companion of the latter, and never were two friends (if they can thus be called) more suited to each other. Count Otto was a professed admirer of Louisa von Adelheim, and as such was much befriended by the family; indeed, Adolph was heard to say, he was determined that no other than his friend should be the husband of his sister. He cften brought him to her: reeking from intemperance and tavern brawls, and polluted her presence with his company. O heavens! should he and Issendorff meet before her! But the firm and haughty conduct of Louisa somewhat awed him, and moreover he had a deadly fear of his rival. Once, however, it was rumored they had met alone in the house of Adelheim; Adolph was fortunately not there, and it is said the interview finished by the count's being summarily ejected out of the door by the hands of Issendorff; but the former never divulged the secret, and it is certain he never resented it openly; though, from this moment, he conceived a deadly and implacable hatred to his rival, and doomed his destruction. He feigned a more deep and fervent attachment to the beautiful Louisa, and assuring her brother that Issendorff was the only obstacle to his success, be inflamed his mind against the predestined victim to such an extent, that he succeeded in making him pledge his honor never to sanction an alliance between the houses of Issendorff and Adelheim. 'I will soon and in a safe way put an end to his pretensions,' said Adolph; you know how I get rid of disagreeable people. I never failed yet. The count applauded, and the deadly conspiracy was formed. The intentions of these no better than murderers reached the ears of a friend, who mentioned them to me. I immediately imparted them to Issendorff, at the same time imploring him to avoid any altercation with the count or with Adolph. He turned deadly pale at my words. It is fated!' he said, but nothing on earth shall induce me to fight Adolph!' I was happy to hear him say this, and tried to strengthen him in a resolution I thought almost impracticable for him to keep, knowing Adelheim's character and his own. A few days afterwards there was a general convivial meeting of the students, to celebrate an anniversary. Issendorff called at my lodg. ings in the morning. He was depressed and irritated. A paper containing the most insult ing allusions to himself had been nailed to his door during the night, and when he awoke, a crowd,among whom were the count and Adolph, were reading and laughing at it. He rushed down and had it torn away-every one denied any knowledge of the author, though he well knew him in the brother of his beloved, but he had not dared to ask him. I know that some dreadful misfortune will be fal me-I feel it.' 'Cheer up,' 1 replied. All will end well.But for the love of heaven avoid altercation with Adolph.' He promised to follow my injunctions. Ibegged him not to go to the meeting that day. 'I must,' he replied; it would be a voluntary exclusion from their circle; besides, I have retired enough of late. I must brave the storm. And, by heaven, let any one but say a word of doubtful meaning, and I will make such an example of him as will, I trust, deter the rest from venturing too near me.' With feelings excited to agony, I joined in the gay and noisy circle assembled on that day.The count and Adolph were there, when I en-, tered. They were speaking of Issendorff, but in an under tone; for he had some few friends present, though very few among the many, who would not be backward in asserting his cause; but I heard enough to fear the worst. At length, among the latest, Issendorff entered with Ins usual proud and haughty step, but with more than usual fire in his pale blue melancholy eyes. I hurried to him. 'For mercy's sake depart, Frederic; they are exasperated against you, and something dreadful will happen. Go! and we will try and pacify them, or intimidate, for you have still some trusty friends among us. Go! there is a conspiracy against you.' Issendorff frowned upon me! 'Fear not; I have already told you that nothing shall provoke me to quarrel with him.' He left me, and passed into the centre of the saloon. He will not succeed, thought I. Must that glorious spirit die? must that amiable youth be murdered? I watched him with intense anxiety. Foremost among the groups stood Adolph von Adelheim and Count Otto von Altweil. Frederic advanced to the former in the most friendly and courteous manner, extending his hand. Adolph stared haughtily at him without returning his greeting, and then turned his back upon him; a most deadly insult. Issendorff turned ashy pale, but he did NOT resent it!, With ready presence of mind he addressed a friend who stood near, without appearing to have noticed it. But a scarcely-suppressed laugh and an open sneer came from nearly all present. I burned with as deep an indignation as my friend. The count, fearful of offending, saluted him courteously; he returned the salutation with an insulting laugh, and, pushing him rudely aside, seemed trying to provoke him to a rejoinder, but the obsequious coward drew back. This action served to divert the pleasantry of the company into another channel, and a sudden interest seemed awakened in favor of the doomed Issendorff. For a time all remained quiet, till towards the close of the repast, when perhaps all were somewhat heated with wine. 'What say you,' cried Wilhelm von Gandolf to Adelheim, if we drink the health of your future brother-in-law?' It was the concerted signal. "With all my heart,' was the reply. 'Well then,-Frederic von Issendorff.' 'Who? cried Adelheim,-"do you think I will ever grant my sister to that lying coward? It is Otto, Count of Altweil.' 'Who said those words?' Issendorff asked, in a calm, deep, concentrated voice. "Count Otto, you know the Lady Louisa is mine, and if you dare even to mention her name, I will write oblivion of it with my sword upon your heart. The name of Adelheim shall not be polluted by coming from so vile a mouth as yours. 'Aha!' cried one of the company, 'I will be your second, Count. The sooner this is finished the better.' Count Otto shuddered, and looked to Adelheim; he understood him. 'It was who said those words,' he thundered, and I repeat them.' 'Retract them then, Adolph! for the love of heaven; I will not, I cannot fight with you.You know it, and it is ungenerous in you to insult me. Now retract those words, I implore you!' roared strike 'Dastardly villian, I repeat them,' Adelheim. Leave my sight, or I shall you.' 'Come but near me, and I will fell you to the ground,' thundered Issendorff, now rising in a vehement passion-but all the powers of hell shall not make me fight you.' "Then you must leave this room,' shouted many voices; 'a dishonored coward dare not be among us.' 'Come one, come all,' cried Issendorff, 'I will not move a step, and liar and coward in the teeth of all who have spoken those words to me. You know I cannot fight him. Here, Count Otto! you are the first; bring us swords.' "No, no roared Adelheim, 'I appeal to our seniors; I have the first right. Silence, and hear.' He had, according to their laws of honor. 'Frederic von Issendorff, you must accept the challenge of Adolph von Adelheim, or leave this room branded with eternal infamy, never more to appear before us. And every student that meets you, shall have the right to strike, without giving you satisfaction.' "Then be it so,' said Issendorff, with a deadly smile; 'Adelheim, I accept your challenge.'He calmy reseated himself, and a heavy silence reigned for a time. Let us finish this business at once,' said the challenger. 'No not till to-morrow morning. Senors, I have the right to enforce that.' They agreed. Then Issendorff filled his glass. He raised it to his lips, exclaiming: To the health and long life of Adolph von Adelheim!' I knew his meaning-none pledged the toast;the feeling of all was turning against the challenger. Having emptied the goblet, he rose and left the room. He immediately went to his lodgings, and calmly wrote to his family and more intimate friends, and having arranged his affairs, he hastened to the house of Louisa, though already late in the evening. He felt certain that he should fall; for Adelheim was one of the first masters of his weapon at the university, and, though himself inferior to few, he had resolved on not killing the brother of Louisa, and had determined on perishing himself, if otherwise that dreaded result could not be avoided. It may therefore be supposed with what feelings he entered that house. The lingering rays of the summer sun were on the linden trees that waved over its windows: the music of the evening bird floated on the perfumed air, that had a magic soothing power, as though it was formed of the sighs of angels; but oh! sweeter, far sweeter than the night-bird's note, came the voice of Louisa through the open casement !— Frederic paused on the threshold and listened— she was singing a song of his own-a shudder ran through him as he thought that, in the noisy hall he had just quitted, heartless enemies were discussing his death. "God! must I leave all this?' sighed Issendorff. He never mentioned what had passed, what was still to come; a miser of his still remaining few short moments of happiness, he would not destroy them; he lengthened them till the chiming hours one by one warned him away by their knell-like voice; then he departed. Ile had never appeared more gay than on that evening, but there was a wildness, a sudden burst of melancholy, mingling with his gaiety, that startled the unsuspecting Louisa. Alas! she understood it all on the morrow. He asked her for a remembrance, she gave him her scarf; an ominous present, for it was a war-gift. The sun rose glorious over the vine-clad banks of the Neckar that came sparkling from the distant hills, as though it was a vein of light, bearing celestial radiance to the earth. In a woodland meadow by its side, Frederic von Issendorff and Adolph von Adelheim met in deadly combat. The count was the second of the latter, a near relation was by the side of the former. With his usual proud bearing Issendorff stepped before his opponent. The scarf of Louisa was wound round his sword-arm, that he might never forget it was her brother with whom he fought. He spoke, but this time sternly and haughtily. Adelheim, what you said yesterday may have been under the influence of wine. Retract it.' Count Otto stepped forward. 'It is to you I speak, von Adelheim. I exchange nothing but blows with that dastard by your side. Answer me!' "The swords!' roared Adelheim. The swords were measured and given to the respective parties. not in that tone, it will kill me!—Speak kindly to me. No-do not! you cannot-you dare not. Hush! Let me still be with you, one minute only-that is all I ask.' Pale and startled, Louisa von Adelheim, as though a spell was upon her, returned the frezied, intense gaze of Issendorff without the power to move, and then sank senseless at his feet. All was forgotten in that hour-ay, even the dreadful past. The moments flew by unheeded, and again Louisa smiled and listened to the fond words of Issendorff. But suddenly the tramp of feet were heard without. The student started and gazed in terror towards the casement. He beheld the dreaded object—he felt his hour was come. En garde! And with the swiftness of lightning the combatants started into the position of "They have followed speedily,' he said, as he defence, and the seconds fell back. With grace- started from the side of Louisa. Once more ful courtesy Issendorff made his salute; it was and the last,' he cried, as he imprinted a burning not returned by Adelheim, whose rapier flicker- kiss on her lips; but she too had beheld the ed in his hand as though instinct with life. In frightful object approaching. A sudden and an instant the point hovered over the heart of fearful thought struck her. Mechanically she Issendorff, who calmly and scornfully, with advanced to the door. Slowly winding up the scarcely an apparent movement of his blade, road was borne the bier with the ghastly disparried the fierce thrusts of his adversary. figured body of Adelheim: it was set down beNever were combatants more ably matched.- fore the door of the garden saloon, and the officers The sword of Adelheim flashed around Issen- of justice entered. Issendorff tried to clasp the dorff in the morning sun, like a lightning shower, hand of Louisa; with a thrill of horror she drew as it quivered in his grasp. it back. 'Have a care,' cried Issendorff, or you will fall on my blade!' 'Insolent boaster, then thrust it home.' With fresh fury he rushed upon his opponent; none could see the rapid motion of their weapons, none could guess the issue, when suddenly, as though with a lightning shock, Adelheim leaped high into the air, and fell a corse upon the ground. Issendorff's rapier had passed through his heart. At this unexpected and unintended issue the survivor stood horror-stricken. 'The murderer of her brother!' he ejaculated. 'Lost for ever lost." 'Fly,' cried his friend, 'before the minions of justice come. See! that dastard Altweil has deserted his principal,' pointing to the count, who was galloping away. Fly! I will take care of the body!' Issendorff paused a moment, then mounting his horse, galloped off with frantic speed, breaking through every obstacle. Whither did he go? Did he fly to save his life or his liberty? No! A few moments, and he checked the fierce career of his panting horse, before the house of Adelheim. He leaped from his seat, threw the reins forward, and the infuriated animal darted away-the last chance of escape. In an instant he stood before Louisa. With joyful surprise she turned towards him; she threw her arms around him; gently and slowly he unwound them. He shuddered. 'She embraces the murderer of her brother,' he thought. He would not let her touch him, but he stood and gazed upon her in silent, tearless agony.— Louisa was hurt-she spoke coldly. 'O Louisa, Louisa! Look not thus! Speak 'He did it-I tried to save him-it is fate.'Issendorff faltered. Louisa gazed at him with a look of agonizing horror, and threw herself on the death-wet bier. "There stands the murderer-arrest him!' exclaimed the officers of justice. 'I surrender,' said Issendorff, in a cold voice, such as one might expect to hear, could a marble statue speak. His trial was short. The powerful family of Adelheim procured his incarceration in a fortress for life-a severe doom for the challenged, according to the laws of the country. The fortress of Wwas situated in a beautiful scene. Owing to the favor of the governor, Issendorff had a couple of chambers allotted to him on the top of the highest tower.There, from the deepset window of his lofty dwelling, the broken-hearted captive could look over the populous country, and hear the glad voices of men ringing up from below; thence could he see the distant towers of H behold, at its setting, the sun, that high-priest of nature, waft clouds of fragrant incense from his golden censor towards the snow-capped mountains, that stood like white-robed listening vestals in God's great temple-earth. -, and O, you could not doubt it! Come to me once more-and look again upon your dying Louisa! Haste-or you will not find me! No earthly obstacle must, none shall hinder you.' A smile-a smile of hope and love once more and for the first time since that fatal day, beam ed on the pale but touchingly expressive face of the student. He sent for the governor, who knew his tale. "I will see her, he said; 'grant me a weekI must follow her to her grave,' he added, with a faltering voice 'I dare not. If you should not return?' 'I pledge my honor.' "It is enough! you may depart. Return this day week, and my best wishes attend you, my poor young friend.' Issendorff departed on his melancholy way. A few hours and he was by the side of Louisa. She lay like a stricken flower, but more beautiful than ever. Her gentle heart could not bear the dreadful blow; she had pined and faded away, but every day she became more and more lovely. She was as though the grosser earthly particles of human nature had dissolved away, and left nothing but the ethereal spirit in its pure halo-like dwellings. Issendorff was with her in her last moments; in his arms that beautiful girl breathed her last, and glided imperceptibly into the land of eternal spirits; it was but by the sweet smile of resignation fading from her fair pale face, like evening beams from snow, that one could tell she was no more. They buried her by the banks of the Neckar, in a simple tomb. There were few mourners by her grave, but they were true ones. She was buried in vestal white, and a broken-hearted student laid a wreath of white roses on her tomb; gently, as though he feared to wake her pained spirit from its blessed sleep. True to his word, Issendorff returned to the fortress. On the particulars of his noble conduct being stated to the government, he was offered his liberty, but he always refused to accept it. I have done with this world,' he said; 'the broken-hearted belong to it no more; and if ever duelling was a fatal curse, it is in my case.-Let me, though innocent, suffer as an example.' He remained firm in refusing his liberty, and still lingers in his lofty prison, till grief with its dewy wing shall lull his soul into the slumbers of eternity. KARL. Change change! for all things human! Where arose, in marbled grandeur, Still change! go thou and view it All desolately sunk ; The circle of the Druid, The cloister of the monk; The abbey, boled and squalid, With its grass-maned staggering wall; Ask by whom these were unhallowed'Twas Change that did it all. Yet, O Change! though the destroyer Of earth's trail things, thou art not The less the purifier Of its ever-living thought: The Druid star is shrouded, The monkish overcast ; And the new, though still beclouded, |