A	»	B	»	C	»	D	»	E
F	»	G	»	H	»	I	»	J
K	»	L	»	M	»	N	»	O
P	»		R	»	S	»		T
U	»		V	»	W	»		Z

Various - "The Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and Instruction, Vol. 12,"

Charles Kingsley - "The Saint's Tragedy"

James Monteith - "First Lessons In Geography"

American Anti Slavery Society - "The Anti Slavery Examiner, Part 1 of 4"

PW Morning Report, January 6, 2009">The PW Morning Report, January 6, 2009
Moreover Technologies - Premier purveyor of real-time news and RSS feeds from across the Web

Richard Seaver Dies
Ad - Get Info for Book Publishing from 14 search engines in 1.

More Cuts at McGraw-Hill Education
A daily round-up of the latest publishing news: Coulter Kaput; Christopher Hibbert Dead; Costa Book Award Winners; Cuba Opens Hemingway Archives; J.D. Salinger at 90; and Want to Win A Newbery Medal? Hollywood Reporter Sebastian Barry, Sadie Jones

The German Classics of The Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries, Vol. IV by Editor in Chief: Kuno Francke

E >> Editor in Chief: Kuno Francke >> The German Classics of The Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries, Vol. IV




[_They descend from the terrace._]

GENTLEMAN-IN-WAITING (_to the pages_).
Back with the torches!

[Illustration: #THE ROYAL CASTLE AT BERLIN#]

HOHENZOLLERN. Leave them, leave them, friends!
These precincts might roar up to heaven in fire
And his soul be no more aware of it
Than the bright stone he wears upon his hand.

[_They surround him, the pages illuminating the scene._]

ELECTOR (_bending over the_ PRINCE).
What leaf is it he binds? Leaf of the willow?

HOHENZOLL. What! Willow-leaf, my lord? It is the bay,
Such as his eyes have noted on the portraits
Of heroes hung in Berlin's armor-hall.

ELECTOR. Where hath he found that in my sandy soil?

HOHENZOLL. The equitable gods may guess at that!

GENTLEMAN-IN-WAITING.
It may be in the garden, where the gardener
Has nurtured other strange, outlandish plants.

ELECTOR. Most curious, by heaven! But what's the odds?
I know what stirs the heart of this young fool.

HOHENZOLL. Indeed! Tomorrow's clash of arms, my liege!
Astrologers, I'll wager, in his mind
Are weaving stars into a triumph wreath.

[_The_ PRINCE _regards the wreath._]

GENTLEMAN-IN-WAITING. Now it is done!

HOHENZOLLERN. A shame, a mortal shame,
That there's no mirror in the neighborhood!
He would draw close to it, vain as any girl,
And try his wreath on, thus, and then again
This other way--as if it were a bonnet!

ELECTOR. By faith! But I must see how far he'll go!

[_The_ ELECTOR _takes the wreath from the_ PRINCE'S _hand while the
latter regards him, flushing. The_ ELECTOR _thereupon twines his
neck-chain about the wreath and gives it to the_ PRINCESS. _The_
PRINCE _rises in excitement, but the_ ELECTOR _draws back with the_
PRINCESS, _still holding the wreath aloft. The_ PRINCE _follows her
with outstretched arms._]

THE PRINCE (_whispering_).
Natalie! Oh, my girl! Oh, my beloved!

ELECTOR. Make haste! Away!

HOHENZOLLERN. What did the fool say?

GENTLEMAN-IN-WAITING. What?

[_They all ascend the stair to the terrace._]

THE PRINCE. Frederick, my prince! my father!

HOHENZOLLERN. Hell and devils!

ELECTOR (_backing away from him_).
Open the gate for me!

THE PRINCE. Oh, mother mine!

HOHENZOLL. The raving idiot!

ELECTRESS. Whom did he call thus?

THE PRINCE (_clutching at the wreath_).
Beloved, why do you recoil? My Natalie!

[_He snatches a glove from the_ PRINCESS' _hand._]

HOHENZOLL. Heaven and earth! What laid he hands on there?

COURTIER. The wreath?

NATALIE. No, no!

HOHENZOLLERN (_opening the door_). Hither! This way, my
liege!
So the whole scene may vanish from his eye!

ELECTOR. Back to oblivion, with you, oblivion,
Sir Prince of Homburg! On the battle-field,
If you be so disposed, we meet again!
Such matters men attain not in a dream!

[_They all go out; the door crashes shut in the_ PRINCE'S _face.
Pause._]



SCENE II

_The_ PRINCE OF HOMBURG _remains standing before the door a moment in
perplexity; then dreamily descends from the terrace, the hand holding
the glove pressed against his forehead. At the foot of the stair he
turns again, gazing up at the door._



SCENE III

_Enter_ COUNT HOHENZOLLERN _by the wicket below. A page follows him.
The_ PRINCE OF HOMBURG.

PAGE (Softly).
Count! Listen, do! Most worshipful Sir
Count!

HOHENZOLLERN (_vexed_).
Grasshopper! Well? What's wanted?

PAGE. I am sent--

HOHENZOLL. Speak softly now, don't wake him with your chirping!
Come now! What's up?

PAGE. The Elector sent me hither.
He charges you that, when the Prince awakes,
You breathe no word to him about the jest
It was his pleasure to allow himself.

HOHENZOLLERN (softly).
You skip off to the wheatfield for some sleep.
I knew that, hours ago. So run along.



SCENE IV

COUNT HOHENZOLLERN _and the_ PRINCE of HOMBURG.

HOHENZOLLERN (_taking a position some distance behind the_ PRINCE _who
is still gazing fixedly up toward the terrace_).
Arthur!

[_The_ PRINCE _drops to the ground._]

And there he lies!
You could not do it better with a bullet.

[_He approaches him._]

Now I am eager for the fairy-tale
He'll fabricate to show the reason why
Of all the world he chose this place to sleep in.

[_He bends over him._]

Arthur! Hi! Devil's own! What are you up to?
What are you doing here at dead of night?

THE PRINCE. Ah, dear, old fellow!

HOHENZOLLERN. Well, I'm hanged! See here!
The cavalry's a full hour down the road
And you, their colonel, you lie here and sleep.

THE PRINCE. What cavalry?

HOHENZOLLERN. The Mamelukes, of course!
Sure as I live and breathe, the man's forgot
That he commands the riders of the Mark!

THE PRINCE (rising).
My helmet, quick then! My cuirass!

HOHENZOLLERN. Where are they?

THE PRINCE. Off to the right there, Harry.--On the stool.

HOHENZOLL. Where? On the stool?

THE PRINCE. I laid them there, I thought--

HOHENZOLLERN (regarding him).
Then go and get them from the stool yourself.

THE PRINCE. What's this glove doing here

[He stares at the glove in his hand.]

HOHENZOLLERN. How should I know?
[Aside.] Curses! He must have torn that
unobserved from the lady niece's arm. [Abruptly.] Quick
now, be off!
What are you waiting for?

THE PRINCE (casting the glove away again).
I'm coming, coming.
Hi, Frank! The knave I told to wake me must
have--

HOHENZOLLERN (regarding him).
It's raving mad he is!

THE PRINCE. Upon my oath, Harry, my dear, I don't know where I am.

HOHENZOLL. In Fehrbellin, you muddle-headed dreamer--
You're in a by-path of the Castle gardens.

THE PRINCE (to himself).
Engulf me, Night! Unwittingly once more
In slumber through the moonshine have I
strayed! [He pulls himself together.]
Forgive me! Now I know! Last night, recall,
The heat was such one scarce could lie in bed.
I crept exhausted hither to this garden,
And because Night with so sweet tenderness
Encompassed me, fair-haired and odorous Night--
Even as the Persian bride wraps close her lover,
Lo, here I laid my head upon her lap.
What is the clock now?

HOHENZOLLERN. Half an hour of midnight.

THE PRINCE. And you aver the troops are on the march?

HOHENZOLL. Upon my word, sharp, stroke of ten, as planned.
The Princess Orange regiment in van,
By this undoubtedly has reached the heights
Of Hackelwitz, there in the face of Wrangel
To cloak the army's hid approach at dawn.

THE PRINCE. Well, no harm's done. Old Kottwitz captains her
And he knows every purpose of this march.
I should have been compelled, at all events
By two, to come back hither for the council:
Those were the orders. So it's just as well
I stayed in the beginning. Let's be off.
The Elector has no inkling?

HOHENZOLLERN. Bah! How should he?
He's tight abed and snoozing long ago.

[_They are about to depart when the_ PRINCE _starts, turns, and picks
up the glove_.]

THE PRINCE. I dreamed such an extraordinary dream!
It seemed as though the palace of a king,
Radiant with gold and silver, suddenly
Oped wide its doors, and from its terrace high
The galaxy of those my heart loves best
Came down to me:
The Elector and his Lady and the--third--
What is her name?

HOHENZOLLERN. Whose?

THE PRINCE (_searching his memory_). Why, the one I mean!
A mute must find his tongue to speak her name.

HOHENZOLL. The Platen girl?

THE PRINCE. Come, come, now!

HOHENZOLLERN. The Ramin

THE PRINCE. No, no, old fellow!

HOHENZOLLERN. Bork? Or Winterfeld?

THE PRINCE. No, no! My word! You fail to see the pearl
For the bright circlet that but sets it off!

HOHENZOLL. Damn it, then, tell me! I can't guess the face!
What lady do you mean?

THE PRINCE. Well, never mind.
The name has slipped from me since I awoke,
And goes for little in the story.

HOHENZOLLERN. Well,
Let's have it then!

THE PRINCE. But now, don't interrupt me!--
And the Elector of the Jovelike brow,
Holding a wreath of laurel in his hand,
Stands close beside me, and the soul of me
To ravish quite, twines round the jeweled band
That hangs about his neck, and unto one
Gives it to press upon my locks--Oh, friend!

HOHENZOLL. To whom?

THE PRINCE. Oh, friend!

HOHENZOLLERN. To whom then? Come, speak up!

THE PRINCE. I think it must have been the Platen girl.

HOHENZOLL. Platen? Oh, bosh! Not she who's off in Prussia?

THE PRINCE. Really, the Platen girl. Or the Ramin?

HOHENZOLL. Lord, the Ramin! She of the brick-red hair?
The Platen girl with those coy, violet eyes--
They say you fancy _her_.

THE PRINCE. I fancy her--

HOHENZOLL. So, and you say she handed you the wreath?

THE PRINCE. Oh, like some deity of fame she lifts
High up the circlet with its dangling chain
As if to crown a hero. I stretch forth,
Oh, in delight unspeakable, my hands
I stretch to seize it, yearning with my soul
To sink before her feet. But as the odor
That floats above green valleys, by the wind's
Cool breathing is dispelled, the group recedes
Up the high terrace from me; lo, the terrace
Beneath my tread immeasurably distends
To heaven's very gate. I clutch at air
Vainly to right, to left I clutch at air,
Of those I loved hungering to capture one.
In vain! The palace portal opes amain.
A flash of lightning from within engulfs them;
Rattling, the door flies to. Only a glove
I ravish from the sweet dream-creature's arm
In passionate pursuing; and a glove,
By all the gods, awaking, here I hold!

HOHENZOLL. Upon my word--and, you assume, the glove
Must be her glove?

THE PRINCE. Whose?

HOHENZOLLERN. Well, the Platen girl's.

THE PRINCE. Platen! Of course. Or could it be Ramin's

HOHENZOLLERN (_with a laugh_).
Rogue that you are with your mad fantasies!
Who knows from what exploit delectable
Here in a waking hour with flesh and blood
The glove sticks to your hand, now?

THE PRINCE. Eh? What? I?
With all my love--

HOHENZOLLERN. Oh, well then, what's the odds?
Call it the Platen lady, or Ramin.
There is a Prussian post on Sunday next,
So you can find out by the shortest way
Whether your lady fair has lost a glove.
Off! Twelve o'clock! And we stand here and jaw!

THE PRINCE (_dreamily into space_).
Yes, you are right. Come, let us go to bed.
But as I had it on my mind to say--
Is the Electress who arrived in camp
Not long since with her niece, the exquisite
Princess of Orange, is she still about?

HOHENZOLL. Why?--I declare the idiot thinks--

THE PRINCE. Why?
I've orders to have thirty mounted men
Escort them safely from the battle-lines.
Ramin has been detailed to lead them.

HOHENZOLLERN. Bosh!
They're gone long since, or just about to go.
The whole night long, Ramin, all rigged for flight,
Has hugged the door. But come. It's stroke o' twelve.
And I, for one, before the fight begins,
I want to get some sleep.



SCENE V

_The same. Hall in the palace. In the distance, the sound of cannon.
The ELECTRESS and PRINCESS NATALIE, dressed for travel, enter,
escorted by a gentleman-in-waiting, and sit down at the side.
Ladies-in-waiting. A little later the ELECTOR enters with
FIELD-MARSHAL. DOeRFLING, the PRINCE OF HOMBURG with the glove in his
collar, COUNT HOHENZOLLERN, COUNT TRUCHSZ, COLONEL HENNINGS,
TROOP-CAPTAIN VON DER GOLZ and several other generals, colonels and
minor officers._

ELECTOR. What is that cannonading?--Is it Goetz?

DOeRFLING. It's Colonel Goetz, my liege, who yesterday
Pushed forward with the van. An officer
Has come from him already to allay
Your apprehensions ere they come to birth.
A Swedish outpost of a thousand men
Has pressed ahead into the Hackel Hills,
But for those hills Goetz stands security
And sends me word that you should lay your plans
As though his van already held them safe.

ELECTOR (_to the officers_).
The Marshal knows the plan. Now, gentlemen,
I beg you take your pens and write it down.

[_The officers assemble on the other side about the_ FIELD-MARSHAL,
_and take out their tablets. The_ ELECTOR _turns to a
gentleman-in-waiting_.]

Ramin is waiting with the coach outside?

GENTLEMAN-IN-WAITING.
At once, my sovereign. They are hitching now.

ELECTOR (_seating himself on a chair behind the_ ELECTRESS _and the_
PRINCESS).
Ramin shall escort my beloved wife,
Convoyed by thirty sturdy cavalrymen.
To Kalkhuhn's, to the chancellor's manor-house.
At Havelberg beyond the Havel, go.
There's not a Swede dare show his face there now.

ELECTRESS. The ferry is restored?

ELECTOR. At Havelberg?
I have arranged for it. The day will break
In all events before you come to it.

[_Pause_.]

You are so quiet, Natalie, my girl?
What ails the child?

NATALIE. Uncle, I am afraid.

ELECTOR. And yet my little girl was not more safe
In her own mother's lap than she is now.

[_Pause_.]

ELECTRESS. When do you think that we shall meet again?

ELECTOR. If God grants me the victory, as I
Doubt not He will, in a few days, perhaps.

[_Pages enter and serve the ladies refreshments_. FIELD-MARSHAL
DOeRFLING _dictates. The_ PRINCE OF HOMBURG, _pen and tablet in hand,
stares at the ladies_.]

MARSHAL. The battle-plan his Highness has devised
Intends, my lords, in order that the Swedes'
Fugitive host be utterly dispersed,
The severing of their army from the bridges
That guard their rear along the river Rhyn.
Thus Colonel Hennings--

HENNINGS. Here!

[_He writes_.]

MARSHAL. Who by the will
Of his liege lord commands the army's right,
Shall seek by stealthy passage through the bush
To circumscribe the enemy's left wing,
Fearlessly hurl his force between the foe
And the three bridges; then, joined with Count Truchsz--
Count Truchsz!

TRUCHSZ (_writing_). Here!

MARSHAL. Thereupon, joined with Count Truchsz--

[_He pauses_.]

Who, meanwhile, facing Wrangel on the heights
Has gained firm footing with his cannonry--

TRUCHSZ (_writing_). Firm footing with his cannonry--

MARSHAL. You hear it?--

[_Proceeding_.]

Attempt to drive the Swedes into the swamp
Which lies behind their right.

[_A lackey enters_.]

LACKEY. Madam, the coach is at the door.

[_The ladies rise_.]

MARSHAL. The Prince of Homburg--

ELECTOR (_also rising_). Is Ramin at hand?

LACKEY. He's in the saddle, waiting at the gates.

[_The royalties take leave of one another_.]

TRUCHSZ (_writing_). Which lies behind their right.

MARSHAL. The Prince of Homburg--
Where is the Prince of Homburg?

HOHENZOLLERN (_in a whisper_). Arthur!

THE PRINCE (_with a start_). Here!

HOHENZOLL. Have you gone mad?

THE PRINCE. My Marshal, to command!

[_He flushes, and, taking out pen and parchment, writes._]

MARSHAL. To whom His Highness, trusting that he lead
His force to glory as at Rathenow,
Confides the mounted squadrons of the Mark

[_He hesitates._]

Though in no way disprizing Colonel Kottwitz
Who shall be aid in counsel and right hand--

[_To_ CAPTAIN GOLZ _in a low voice._]

Is Kottwitz here?

GOLZ. No, General. He has,
You note, dispatched me hither in his place
To take the battle order from your lips.

[_The_ PRINCE _gazes over toward the ladies again._]

MARSHAL (_continuing_).
Takes station in the plain near Hackelwitz
Facing the right wing of the enemy
Well out of range of the artillery fire.

GOLZ (_writing_). Well out of range of the artillery fire.

[_The_ ELECTRESS _ties a scarf about the_ PRINCESS' _throat. The_
PRINCESS, _about to draw on a glove, looks around as if she were in
search of something._]

ELECTOR (_approaches her_).
Dear little girl of mine, what have you lost?

ELECTRESS. What are you searching for?

NATALIE. Why, Auntie dear,
My glove! I can't imagine--

[_They all look about._]

ELECTOR (_to the ladies-in-waiting_). Would you mind?--

ELECTRESS (_to the_ PRINCESS). It's in your hand.

NATALIE. The right glove; but the left?

ELECTOR. You may have left it in your bedroom.

NATALIE. Oh,
Bork, if you will?

ELECTOR _(to the lady-in-waiting)_. Quick, quick!

NATALIE. Look on the mantel.

[_The lady-in-waiting goes out.-]

THE PRINCE _(aside)_.
Lord of my life? Could I have heard aright?

[_He draws the glove from his collar._]

MARSHAL _(looking down at the paper which he holds in
his hand)_.
Well out of range of the artillery fire.

[_Continuing_.]

The Prince's Highness--

THE PRINCE _(regarding now the glove, now the PRINCESS)_.
It's this glove she's seeking--

MARSHAL. At our lord sovereign's express command--

GOLZ _(writing)_. At our lord sovereign's express command--

MARSHAL. Whichever way the tide of battle turn
Shall budge not from his designated place.

THE PRINCE. Quick! Now I'll know in truth if it be hers.

_[He lets the glove fall, together with his handkerchief; then
recovers the handkerchief but leaves the glove lying where everybody
can see it.]_

MARSHAL _(piqued)_. What is His Highness up to?

HOHENZOLLERN _(aside)_. Arthur!

THE PRINCE. Here!

HOHENZOLL. Faith, you're possessed!

THE PRINCE. My Marshal, to command!

_[He takes up pen and tablet once more. The_ MARSHAL _regards him an
instant, questioningly. Pause.]_

GOLZ _(reading, after he has finished writing)_.
Shall budge not from his designated place.

MARSHAL (continues).
Until, hard pressed by Hennings and by
Truchsz--

THE PRINCE (looking over GOLZ's shoulder).
Who, my dear Golz? What? I?

GOLZ. Why, yes. Who else

THE PRINCE. I shall not budge--

GOLZ. That's it.

MARSHAL. Well, have you got it

THE PRINCE (aloud).
Shall budge not from my designated place.

[He writes.]

MARSHAL. Until, hard pressed by Hennings and by
Truchsz-- [He pauses.]
The left wing of the enemy, dissolved,
Plunges upon its right, and wavering
The massed battalions crowd into the plain,
Where, in the marsh, criss-crossed by ditch on ditch,
The plan intends that they be wholly crushed.

ELECTOR. Lights, pages! Come, my dear, your arm,
and yours.

[He starts to go out with the ELECTRESS and the PRINCESS.]

MARSHAL. Then he shall let the trumpets sound the
charge.

ELECTRESS (as several officers, bowing and scraping, bid her
farewell).
Pray, let me not disturb you, gentlemen.--
Until we meet again!

[The MARSHAL also bids her good-by.]

ELECTOR (suddenly standing still). Why, here we are!
The lady's glove. Come, quick now! There it is.

GENTLEMAN-IN-WAITING. Where?

ELECTOR. At our cousin's, at Prince Homburg's feet.

THE PRINCE. What! At my feet! The glove? It is your own?

[He picks it up and brings it to the PRINCESS.]

NATALIE. I thank you, noble Prince.

THE PRINCE (confused). Then it is yours?

NATALIE. Yes, it is mine; it is the one I lost.

[She takes it and draws it on.]

ELECTRESS (turning to the PRINCESS, she goes out).
Farewell! Farewell! Good luck! God keep you safe!
See that erelong we joyously may meet!


[The ELECTOR goes out with the ladies. Attendants, courtiers and pages
follow.]


THE PRINCE (stands an instant as though struck by a bolt
from heaven; then with triumphant step he
returns to the group of officers).
Then he shall let the trumpets sound the charge!

[He, pretends to write.]

MARSHAL (looking down at his paper).
Then he shall let the trumpets sound the charge.--
However, the Elector's Highness, lest
Through some mistake the blow should fall too soon--

[He pauses.]

GOLZ (writes). Through some mistake the blow should fall
too soon--

THE PRINCE (aside to COUNT HOHENZOLLERN in great
perturbation).
Oh, Harry!

HOHENZOLLERN (impatiently).
What's up now? What's in your head?

THE PRINCE. Did you not see?

HOHENZOLLERN. In Satan's name, shut up!

MARSHAL (continuing).
Shall send an officer of his staff to him;
Who, mark this well, shall finally transmit
The order for the charge against the foe.
Ere this the trumpets shall not sound the charge.

[The PRINCE gazes dreamily into space.]

Well, have you got it?

GOLZ (_writes_). Ere this the trumpets shall not sound the charge.

MARSHAL (_in raised tone_).
Your Highness has it down?

THE PRINCE. Marshal?

MARSHAL. I asked
If you had writ it down?

THE PRINCE. About the trumpets?

HOHENZOLLERN (_aside, with emphatic indignation_).
Trumpets be damned! Not till the order--

GOLZ (_in the same tone_). Not
Till he himself--

THE PRINCE (_interrupting_). Naturally not, before--
But then he'll let the trumpets sound the
charge.

[_He writes. Pause._]

MARSHAL. And I desire--pray note it, Baron Golz--
Before the action opens, to confer
With Colonel Kottwitz, if it can be done.

GOLZ (_significantly_). He shall receive your message. Rest assured.

[_Pause._]

ELECTOR (_returning_).
What now, my colonels and my generals!
The morning breaks. Have you the orders down?

MARSHAL. The thing is done, my liege. Your battle-plan
Is in all points made clear to your commanders.

ELECTOR (_picking up his hat and gloves_).
And you, I charge, Prince Homburg, learn control!
Recall, you forfeited two victories
Of late, upon the Rhine, so keep your head!
Make me not do without the third today.
My land and throne depend on it, no less.

[_To the officers._]
Come!--Frank!

A GROOM (_entering_). Here!

ELECTOR. Quick there! Saddle me my gray!
I will be on the field before the sun!

[_He goes out, followed by generals, colonels and minor officers._]



SCENE VI

THE PRINCE (_coming forward_).
Now, on thine orb, phantasmic creature, Fortune,
Whose veil a faint wind's breathing even now
Lifts as a sail, roll hither! Thou hast touched
My hair in passing; as thou hovered'st near
Already from thy horn of plenty thou
Benignantly hast cast me down a pledge.
Child of the gods, today, O fugitive one,
I will pursue thee on the field of battle,
Seize thee, tear low thy horn of plenty, pour
Wholly thy radiant blessings round my feet,
Though sevenfold chains of iron bind thee fast
To the triumphant chariot of the Swede!

[_Exit._]



ACT II

_Scene: Battlefield of Fehrbellin._

SCENE I

COLONEL KOTTWITZ, COUNT HOHENZOLLERN, CAPTAIN VON DER GOLZ _and other
officers enter at the head of the cavalry._


KOTTWITZ (_outside_). Halt! Squadron, halt! Dismount!

HOHENZOLLERN AND GOLZ (_entering_). Halt, halt!

KOTTWITZ. Hey, friends, who'll help me off my horse?

HOHENZOLLERN AND GOLZ. Here--here!

[_They step outside again._]

KOTTWITZ (_still outside_).
Thanks to you-ouch! Plague take me! May a son
Be giv'n you for your pains, a noble son
Who'll do the same for you when you grow sear.

[He enters, followed by_ HOHENZOLLERN, GOLZ _and others._]

Oh, in the saddle I am full of youth!
When I dismount, though, there's a battle on
As though the spirit and the flesh were parting,
In wrath. [_Looking about._] Where is our
chief, the Prince's Highness?

HOHENZOLL. The Prince will momentarily return.

KOTTWITZ. Where has he gone?
HOHENZOLLERN. He rode down to a hamlet,
In foliage hidden, so you passed it by.
He will return erelong.

OFFICER. Last night, they say,
His horse gave him a tumble.

HOHENZOLLERN. So they say.

KOTTWITZ. He fell?

HOHENZOLLERN (_turning_). A matter of no consequence.
His horse shied at the mill, but down his flank
He lightly slipped and did himself no harm.
It is not worth the shadow of a thought.

KOTTWITZ (_ascending a slight elevation_).
A fine day, as I breathe the breath of life!
A day our God, the lofty Lord of earth,
For sweeter things than deadly combat made.
Ruddily gleams the sunlight through the clouds
And with the lark the spirit flutters up
Exultant to the joyous airs of heaven!

GOLZ. Did you succeed in finding Marshal Dorfling?

KOTTWITZ (_coming forward_).
The Devil, no! What does my lord expect?
Am I a bird, an arrow, an idea,
That he should bolt me round the entire field?
I was at Hackel hillock with the van
And with the rearguard down in Hackel vale.
The one man whom I saw not was the Marshal!
Wherefore I made my way back to my men.