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my love!



Thou knowst by sufferings more than mine, SCENE 1.The Hall of a decayed Palace In watching mo. near a small Town on the northern frontier

Josephine. To see thee well is muchof Silcsia--the Night tempestuous. To see thee happy

Werner. Where hast thou seen such WERNER and JOSEPHINE his wife.

Let me be wretched with the rest! Josephinc. My love, be calmer!

Josephine. But think Werner. I am calm.

How many in this hour of tempest shiver Josephine. To me-

Beneath the biting wind and heavy rain, Yes, but not to thyself: thy pace is hurried, Whose every drop bows them down nearer And no one walks a chamber like to ours

earth, With steps like thine when his heart is at which hath no chamber for them sare rest.

beneath Were it a garden, I should deem thee happy, Her surface. And stepping with the bee from flower to W'erner. And that's not the worst: who

flower; But here!

For chambers ? rest is all. The wretches Werner. 'Tis chill; the tapestry lets

whom through

Thou namest-ay, the wind howls round The wind to which it waves: my blood is

them, and frozen.

The dull and dropping rain saps in their Josephine. Ah, no!

bones Werner (smiling). Why! wouldst thou The creeping marrow. I have been a soldier, have it so?

A hunter, and a traveller, and am Josephine. I would

A beggar, and should know the thing thou Have it a healthful current.

talk'st of. Werner. Let it flow

Josephine. And art thou not now shelter'd Until 'tis spilt or check’d-how boun, I

from them all? care not.

Werner. Yes. And from these alone. Josephine. And am I nothing in thy heart? Josephine. And that is something. Werner. All-all.

Werner. True-to a peasant. Josephine. Then canst thou wish for Josephine. Should the nobly born

that vhich must break mine? Be thankless for that refuge which their Werner (approaching her slowly). But for

habits thee I had been-no matter what, of early delicacy render more But much of good and evil ; what I am, Needful than to the peasant, when the ebb Thou knowest; what I might or should of fortune leaves them on the shoals of life? have been,

H'erner. It is not that, thou knowst it Thou knowest not: but still I love thee, nor

is not; we Shall aught divide us.

Have borne all this, I'll not say patiently, (Werner walks on abruptly, and then Except in thee--but we hare borne it. approaches Josephine.

Josephine. Well? The storm of the night, Werner. Something beyond our outward Perhaps, affects me; I'm a thing of feelings, sufferings (though And have of late bcen sickly, as, alas! These were enough to gnaw into our souls)




Hath stung me oft, and, more than ever, now, May have return'd back to his grandsire, and
When, but for this untoward sickness, which Even now uphold thy rights for thee?
Seized me upon this desolate frontier, and ll'erner, "Tis hopeless.
Hath wasted not alone my strength, but since his strange disappearance from my

And leaves us,-no! this is beyond me!- Entailing, as it were, my sins apon

Himsell, no tidings have reveal'd his course. For this I had been happy—thou been I parted with him to his grandsire, on happy

The promise that his anger would stop short The splendour of my rank sustain'd-my Of the third generation, but Heaven seems

To claim her stern prerogative, and visit My father's name-been still upheld; and, Upon my boy his father's faults and follies.

Josephine. I must hope better still,—at Than those

least we have yet Josephine (abruptly). My son-our son- Baffled the long pursuit of Stralenheim. our Ulric,

Werner. We should have done, but for Been clasp'd again in these long empty arms,

this fatal sickness, And all a mother's hunger satisfied. More fatal than a mortal malady, Twelve years! he was but eight then :- Because it takes not life, but life's sole solace: beautiful

Even now I feel my spirit girt about He was, and beautiful he must be now. By the snares of this avaricious fiend ;My Ulric! my adored!

How do I know he hath not track'd us here? Werner. I have been full oft

Josephine. He does not know thy persons The chase of fortune; now she hath o'ertaken

and his spies, My spirit where it cannot turn at bay,– Who so long watch'd thee, have been left Sick, poor, and lonely.

at Hamburgh. Josephine. Lonely! my dear husband ? Our unexpected journey, and this change Werner. Or worse-involving all I love, Of name, leaves all discovery far behind: in this

None hold us here for aught save what we Far worse than solitude. Alone, I had died, And all been over in a nameless

grave. Werner. Save what we seem! save what Josephine. And I had not outlived thee; we are—sick beggars, but pray take

Even to our very hopes.- Ha! ha! Comfort! We have struggled long; and Josephine. Alas! they who strive

That bitter laugh! With fortune win or weary her at last, Werner. Who would read in this form So that they find the goal, or cease to feel The high soul of the son of a long line? Further. Take comfort, –

- we shall find our Who, in this garb, the heir of princely lands? boy.

Who, in this sunken, sickly eye, the pride Werner. We were in sight of him, of of rank and ancestry? in this worn cheek, every thing

And famine-hollow'd brow, the lord of halls, Which could bring compensation for past Which daily feast a thousand vassals?

Josephine. You And to be baffled thus !

Ponder'd not thus upon these worldly things, Josephine. We are not baffled.

My Werner! when you deign'd to choose Werner. Are we not pennyless ?

for bride Josephine. We ne'er were wealthy. The foreign daughter of a wandering exile. Werner. But I was born to wealth, and Werner. An exile's daughter with an rank, and power;

outcast son Enjoy'd them, loved them, and, alas! ab- Were a fit marriage; but I still had hopes used them,

To lift thee to the state weboth were born for. And forfeited them by my father's wrath, Your father's house was noble, though In my o'er-fervent youth; but for the abuse decay'd, Long sufferings have atoned. My father's And worthy by its birth to match with ours. death

Josephine. Your father did not think so, Left the path open, yet not without snares.

though 'twas noble; This cold and creeping kinsman, who 80 But had my birth been all my claim to match long

With thee, I should have deem'd it what it is. Kept his eye on me, as the snake upon Werner. And what is that in thine eyes? The fluttering bird, hath ere this time out- Josephine. All which it stept me,

Has done in our behalf, -nothing. Become the master of my rights, and lord Werner. How,--nothing? Of that which lifts him up to princes in Josephine. Or worse; for it has been a Dominion and domain.

canker in Josephine. Who knows? our son Thy heart from the beginning: but for this,



We had not felt our poverty, or as

Idenst. Not afraid ? Millions of myriads feel it, cheerfully; Egad! I am afraid. You look as if But for these phantoms of thy feudal fathers, I ask'd for something better than your name, Thou mightst have earn'd thy bread as By the face you put on it. thousands earn it;

Werner. Better, sir! Or, if that seem too humble, tried by Idenst. Better or worse, like matrimony, commerce,

what Or other civic means, to amend thy fortunes. Shall I say more? You have been a guest Werner (ironically). And been an Han

this month seatic burgher ? Excellent ! Here in the Prince's palace-(to be sure, Josephine. Whate'er thou mightst have His Highness had resign'd it to the ghosts been, to me thou art,

And rats these twelve years, but 'tis still What no state, high or low, can ever change, a palace) My heart's first choice;-which chose thee, I say you have been our lodger, and as yet knowing neither

We do not know your name. Thy birth, thy hopes, thy pride; nought, I'erner. My name is Werner. save thy sorrows:

Idenst. A goodly name, a very worthy While they last, let me comfort or divide them;

As e'er was gilt upon a trader's board; When they end, let mine end with them, I have a cousin in the lazaretto or thee!

Of ilamburgh, who has got a wife who bore Werner. My better angel! such I have The same. He is an officer of trust, ever found thee;

Surgeon's assistant (hoping to be surgeon), This rashness, or this weakness of my temper, And has done miracles i' the way of business. Ne’er raised a thought to injure thee or thine. Perhaps you are related to my relative? Thou didst not mar my fortunes: my own Werner. To yours ? nature

Josephine. Oh, yes; we are, but distantly. In youth was such as to unmake an empire,

[Aside to W'erner. Had such been my inheritance; but now, Cannot you humour the dull gossip till Chasten'd, subdued, out-worn, and taught we learn his purpose ? to know

Idenst. Well, I'm glad of that; Myself,- to lose this for our son and thee! I thought so all along; such natural Trust me, when, in my two-and-twentieth yearnings spring

Play'd round my heart-blood is not water, My father barr'd me from my father's house, cousin; The last sole scion of a thousand sires And so let's have some wine, and drink unto (For I was then the last), it hurt me less Our better acquaintance: relatives should be Than to behold my boy and my boy's mother Friends. Excluded in their innocence from what Werner. You appear to have drank enough My faults deserved exclusion: although then already, My passions were all living serpents, and And if you had not, I've no wine to offer, Twined like the Gorgon's round me. Else it were yours; but this you know, or [A knocking is heard.

should know: Josephine. Hark!

You see I am poor and sick, and will not see Werner. A knocking!

That I would be alone; but to your business! Josephine. Who can it be at this lone What brings you here? hour? we have

Idenst. Why, what should bring me here? Few visitors.

Werner. I know not, though I think Werner. And poverty hath none,

that I could guess Save those who come to make it poorer still. That which will send you hence. Well, I am prepared.

Josephine (aside). Patience, dear Werner! [Werner puts his hand into his bosom Idenst. You don't know what has happenas if to search for some weapon.

ed, then ? Josephine. Oh! do not look so. I Josephine. How should we? Will to the door, it cannot be of import Idenst. The river has o'erflow'd. In this lone spot of wintry desolation- Josephine. Alas! we have known The very desert saves man from mankind. That to our sorrow, for these five days; since

[She goes to the door. It keeps us here. Enter IDENSTEIN.

Idenst. But what you don't know is,

That a great personage, who fain would cross Idenst. A fair good evening to my fairer Against the stream, and three postillions' hostess

wishes, And worthy-what's your name, my friend? Is drown'd below the ford, with five post

horses. Not afraid to demand it?

A monkey, and a mastiff, and a valet.


Are you

Josephine. Poor creatures ! are you sure?. Keep up the stove – I will myself to the Idenst. Yes, of the monkey,

cellar And the valet, and the cattle; but as yet AndMadame Idenstein(my consort,stranger,) We know not if his Excellency 's dead Shall furnish forth the bed - apparel; for, Or no; your noblemen are hard to drown, To say the truth, they are marvellous scant As it is fit that men in office should be ;

of this But, what is certain is, that he has swallow'd Within the palace - precincts, since his Enough of the Oder to have burst two Highness peasants;

Left it some dozen years ago.

And then And now a Saxon and Hungarian traveller, His Excellency will sup, doubtless ? Who, at their proper peril, snatch'd him from Gabor. Faith! The whirling river, have sent on to crave I cannot tell; but I should think the pillow A lodging, or a grave, according as Would please him better than the table after It may turn out with the live or dead body. His soaking in your river: but for fear Josephine. And where will you receive Your viands should be thrown away, I mean him? here, I hope,

To sup myself, and have a friend without If we can be of service -- say the word. Who will do honour to your good cheer with Idenst. Here? no; but in the Prince's A traveller's appetite. own apartment,

Idenst. But are you sure As fits a noble guest: 'tis damp, no doubt, His Excellency, but his name, what is it? Not having been inhabited these twelve Gabor. I do not know. years ;

Idenst. And yet you saved his life. But then he comes from a much damper place, Gabor. I help'd my friend to do so. So scarcely will catch cold in't, if he be Idenst. Well, that's strange, Still liable to cold - and if not, why To save a man's life whom you do not know. He'll be worse lodged to-morrow: ne'erthe- Gabor. Not so; for there are some I less,

know so well I have order'd fire and all appliances I scarce should give myself the trouble. To be got ready for the worst—that is, Idenst. Pray, In case he should survive.

Good friend, and who may you be? Josephine. Poor gentleman !

Gabor. By my family, I hope he will, with all my heart.

Hungarian. Werner. Intendant,

Idenst. Which is call'd ? Have you not learn'd his name? My Jo- Gabor. It matters little.

sephine, [Aside to his wife. Idenst. (aside) I think that all the world Retire, l'il sift this fool. [Erit Josephine.

are grown anonymous, Idenst. His name? oh Lord !

Since no one cares to tell me what he's callid! Who knows if he hath now a name or no; Pray, has his Excellency a large suite ? 'Tis time enough to ask it when he's able Gabor. Sufficient. To give an answer, or if not, to put

Idenst. How many ? His heir's upon his epitaph. Methought Gabor. I did not count them. Just now you chid me for demanding names? We came up by mere accident, and just Werner. True, true, I did so; you say In time to drag him through his carriagewell and wisely.


Idenst. Well, what would I give to save Enter GABOR.

a great man ! Gabor. If I intrude, I crave

No doubt you'll have a swinging sum as Idenst. Oh, no intrusion !

recompense. This is the palace; this a stranger like Gabor. Perhaps. Yourself; I pray you make yourself at home: Idenst. Now, how much do you reckonon? But where's hisExcellency,and how fares he? Gabor. I have not yet put up myself to sale: Gabor. Wetly and wearily, but out of In the inean time, my best reward would be peril;

A glass of your Hockheiner, a green glass, He paused to change his garments in a cottage Wreathed with rich grapes and Bacchanal (Where I doff?d mine for these, and came devices, on hither),

O'erflowing with the oldest of your vintage; And has almost recover'd from his drenching. For which I promise you, in case you e'er He will be here anon.

Run hazard of being drown'd (although Idenst. What ho, there! bastle!

I own Without there, Herman, Weilburg, Peter, It seems, of all deaths, the least likely for Conrad!

you), [Gives directions to different ser- I'll pull you out for nothing. Quick, my vants who enter.

friend, A nobleman sleeps here to night-see that and think, for every bumper I shall quaff, All is in order in the dainask-chamber A wave the less may roll above your head. Idenst. (aside) I don't much like this Werner. And l--nothing: fellow- close and dry

Gabor. That's harder still. You say you Ho seems, two things which suit mo not ; were a soldier. however,

Werner. I was. Wine he shall have; if that unlocks him not, Gabor. You look one still. All soldiers are I shall not sleep to-night for curiosity. Or should be comrades, even though enemies

[Erit Idenstein. Our swords when drawn must cross, our Gabor (to Werner). This inaster of the engines aim ceremonies is

(While levell’d) at each other's hearts; The intendant of the palace, I presume ?

but when Tis a fine building, but decay'd.

A truce, a peace, or what you will, remits Werner. The apartment

The steel into its scabbard, and lets sleep Design'd for him you rescued will be found The spark which lights the matchlock, we In sitter order for a sickly guest.

are brethren. Gabor. I wonder then you occupied it not, You are poor and sickly – I am not rich For you seem delicate in health.

but healthy; Werner (quickly). Sir!

I want for nothing which I cannot want; Gabor. Pray

You seem devoid of this—wilt share it? Excuse me: have I said aught to offend you?

(Gabor pulls out his purse. W'erner. Nothing: but we are strangers Werner. Who to each other.

Told you I was a beggar? Gabor. And that's the reason I would Gabor. You yourself, have us less 80 :

In saying you were a soldier during peaceI thought our bustling host without had

time. said

Werner (looking at him with suspicion). You were a chance- and passing-guest, the You know me not ? counterpart

Gabor. I know no man, not even Of me and my companions.

Myself: how should I then know one I ne'er I'erner. Very true.

Beheld till half an hour since ? Gabor. Then, as we never met before, Werner. Sir, I thank you. and never,

Your offer 's noble were it to a friend, It may be, may again encounter, why, And not unkind as to an unknown stranger, I thought to cheer up this old dungeon here Though scarcely prudent; but no less 1 (At least to me) by asking you to share The fare of my companions and myself. I am a beggar in all save his trade,

Werner. Pray, pardon me; my health- And when I beg of any one it shall be Gabor. Even as you please.

Of him who was the first to offer what I have been a soldier, and perhaps am blunt Few can obtain by asking. Pardon me. In bearing

[Erit H'erner. Werner. I have also served, and can Gabor (solus). A goodly fellow by his Requite a soldier's greeting.

looks, though worn, Gabor. In what service ?

As most good fellows are, by pain or pleasure, The Imperial?

Which tear life out of us before our time: Werner (quickly, and then interrupting I scarce know which most quickly; but kimself). I commanded-no—I mean

he seems I served; but it is many years ago,

To have seen better days, as who has not When first Bohemia raised her banner 'gainst who has seen yesterday? - But here The Austrian.

approaches Gabor. Well, that's over now, and peace Our sage intendant, with the wine; however, Has turn'd some thousand gallant hearts For the cup's sake, I'll bear the cupadrift

bearer. To live as they best may; and, to say truth, Some take the shortest.

Enter IDBNSTEIN. Werner. What is that?

Idenst. "Tis here! the supernaculum! Gabor. Whate'er

twenty years They lay their hands on. All Silesia and Of age, if 'tis a day. Lusatia's woods are tenanted by bands Gabor. Which epoch makes Of the late troops, who levy on the country Young women and old wine, and 'tis great Their maintenance: the Chatelains must keep pity Their castle-walls-beyond them 'tis but of two such excellent things, increase of doubtful

years, Travel for your rich Count or full-blown Which still improves the one, should spoil Baron.

the other. My comfort is that, wander where I may, Fill full - Here's to our hostess - your fair I've little left to lose now.


(Takes the glass.

thank you.

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