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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

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HOHENZOLL. Yourself, my liege; I say it, Hohenzollern.

ELECTOR. Now then, by God, that beats the fairy-tales!
One man asserts that _he_ is innocent,
The other that the guilty man am _I_!--
How will you demonstrate that thesis now?

HOHENZOLL. My lord, you will recall to mind that night
We found the Prince in slumber deeply sunk
Down in the garden 'neath the plantain trees.
He dreamed, it seemed, of victories on the morrow,
And in his hand he held a laurel-twig,
As if to test his heart's sincerity.
You took the wreath away, and smilingly
Twined round the leaves the necklace that you wore,
And to the lady, to your noble niece,
Both wreath and necklace, intertwining, gave.
At such a wondrous sight, the Prince, aflush,
Leaps to his feet; such precious things held forth
By such a precious hand he needs must clasp.
But you withdraw from him in haste, withdrawing
The Princess as you pass; the door receives you.
Lady and chain and laurel disappear,
And, solitary, holding in his hand
A glove he ravished from he knows not whom--
Lapped in the midnight he remains behind.

ELECTOR. What glove was that?

HOHENZOLLERN. My sovereign, hear me through!
The matter was a jest; and yet, of what
Deep consequence to him I learned erelong.
For when I slip the garden's postern through,
Coming upon him as it were by chance,
And wake him, and he calls his senses home,
The memory flooded him with keen delight.
A sight more touching scarce the mind could paint.
The whole occurrence, to the least detail,
He recapitulated, like a dream;
So vividly, he thought, he ne'er had dreamed,
And in his heart the firm assurance grew
That heaven had granted him a sign; that when
Once more came battle, God would grant him all
His inward eye had seen, the laurel-wreath,
The lady fair, and honor's linked badge.

ELECTOR. Hm! Curious! And then the glove?

HOHENZOLLERN. Indeed!
This fragment of his dream, made manifest,
At once dispels and makes more firm his faith.
At first, with large, round eye he looks at it:
The color's white, in mode and shape it seems
A lady's glove, but, as he spoke with none
By night within the garden whom, by chance,
He might have robbed of it--confused thereto
In his reflections by myself, who calls him
Up to the council in the palace, he
Forgets the thing he cannot comprehend,
And off-hand in his collar thrusts the glove.

ELECTOR. Thereupon?

HOHENZOLLERN. Thereupon with pen and tablet
He seeks the Castle, with devout attention
To take the orders from the Marshal's lips.
The Electress and the Princess, journey-bound,
By chance are likewise in the hall; but who
Shall gauge the uttermost bewilderment
That takes him, when the Princess turns to find
The very glove he thrust into his collar!
The Marshal calls again and yet again
'The Prince of Homburg!' 'Marshal, to command!'
He cries, endeavoring to collect his thoughts;
But he, ringed round by marvels--why, the thunders
Of heaven might have fallen in our midst--

[_He pauses._]

ELECTOR. It was the Princess' glove?

HOHENZOLLERN. It was, indeed!

[_The_ ELECTOR _sinks into a brown study._]

A stone is he; the pencil's in his hand,
And he stands there, and seems a living man;
But consciousness, as by a magic wand,
Is quenched within him; not until the morrow,
As down the lines the loud artillery
Already roars, does he return to life,
Asking me: Say, what was it Doerfling said
Last night in council, that applied to me?

MARSHAL. Truly, my liege, that tale I can indorse.
The Prince, I call to mind, took in no word
Of what I said; distraught I've seen him oft,
But never yet in such degree removed
From blood and bone, never, as on that night.

ELECTOR. Now then, if I make out your reasoning,
You pile your climax on my shoulders thus:
Had I not dangerously made a jest
Of this young dreamer's state, he had remained
Guiltless, in council had not roamed the clouds,
Nor disobedient proved upon the field.
Eh? Eh? Is that the logic?

HOHENZOLLERN. My liege lord,
I trust the filling of the gaps to you.

ELECTOR. Fool that you are, you addlepate! Had you
Not called me to the garden, I had not,
Following a whim of curiosity,
Made harmless fun of this somnambulist.
Wherefore, and quite with equal right, I hold
The cause of his delinquency were you!--
The delphic wisdom of my officers!

HOHENZOLL. Enough, my sovereign! I am assured,
My words fell weightily upon your heart.



SCENE VI

_An officer enters. The others as before._


OFFICER. My lord, the Prince will instantly appear.

ELECTOR. Good, then! Let him come in.

OFFICER. Two minutes, sir!
He but delayed a moment on the way
To beg a porter ope the graveyard gate.

ELECTOR. The graveyard?

OFFICER. Ay, my sovereign.

ELECTOR. But why?

OFFICER. To tell the truth, my lord, I do not know.
It seemed he wished to see the burial-vault
That your behest uncovered for him there.

[_The commanders group themselves and talk together._]

ELECTOR. No matter! When he comes, let him come in!

[_He steps to the table again and glances at the papers._]

TRUCHSZ. The watch is bringing in Prince Homburg now.



SCENE VII

_Enter the_ PRINCE OF HOMBURG. _An officer and the watch. The others
as before._

ELECTOR. Young Prince of mine, I call you to my aid!
Here's Colonel Kottwitz brings this document
In your behalf, look, in long column signed
By hundred honorable gentlemen.
The army asks your liberty, it runs,
And will not tolerate the court's decree.
Come, read it and inform yourself, I beg.

[_He hands him the paper._]

THE PRINCE (_casts a glance at the document, turns and
looks about the circle of officers_).
Kottwitz, old friend, come, let me clasp your hand!
You give me more than on the day of battle
I merited of you. But now, post-haste,
Go, back again to Arnstein whence you came,
Nor budge at all. I have considered it;
The death decreed to me I will accept!

[_He hands over the paper to him._]

KOTTWITZ (_distressed_).
No, nevermore, my Prince! What are you saying?

HOHENZOLL. He wants to die--

TRUCHSZ. He shall not, must not die!

VARIOUS OFFICERS (_pressing forward_).
My lord Elector! Oh, my sovereign! Hear us!

THE PRINCE. Hush! It is my inflexible desire!
Before the eyes of all the soldiery
I wronged the holy code of war; and now
By my free death I wish to glorify it.
My brothers, what's the one poor victory
I yet may snatch from Wrangel worth to you
Against the triumph o'er the balefullest
Of foes within, that I achieve at dawn--
The insolent and disobedient heart.
Now shall the alien, seeking to bow down
Our shoulders 'neath his yoke, be crushed; and, free,
The man of Brandenburg shall take his stand
Upon the mother soil, for it is his--
The splendor of her meads alone for him!

KOTTWITZ (_moved_).
My son! My dearest friend! What shall I name you?

TRUCHSZ. God of the world!

KOTTWITZ. Oh, let me kiss your hand!

[_They press round him._]

THE PRINCE (_turning toward the_ ELECTOR).
But you, my liege, who bore in other days
A tenderer name I may no longer speak,
Before your feet, stirred to my soul, I kneel.
Forgive, that with a zeal too swift of foot
I served your cause on that decisive day;
Death now shall wash me clean of all my guilt.
But give my heart, that bows to your decree,
Serene and reconciled, this comfort yet:
To know your breast resigns all bitterness--
And, in the hour of parting, as a proof,
One favor more, compassionately grant.

ELECTOR. Young hero, speak! What is it you desire?
I pledge my word to you, my knightly honor,
It shall be granted you, whate'er it be!

THE PRINCE. Not with your niece's hand, my sovereign,
Purchase the peace of Gustaf Karl! Expel,
Out of the camp, expel the bargainer
Who made this ignominious overture.
Write your response to him in cannon-shots!

ELECTOR (_kissing his brow_).
As you desire then. With this kiss, my son,
That last appeal I grant. Indeed, wherein
Now have we need of such a sacrifice
That war's ill-fortune only could compel?
Why, in each word that you have spoken, buds
A victory that strikes the foeman low!
I'll write to him, the plighted bride is she
Of Homburg, dead because of Fehrbellin;
With his pale ghost, before our flags a-charge,
Let him do battle for her, on the field!

[_He kisses him again and draws him to his feet._]

THE PRINCE. Behold, now have you given me life indeed!
Now every blessing on you I implore
That from their cloudy thrones the seraphim
Pour forth exultant over hero-heads.
Go, and make war, and conquer, oh, my liege,
The world that fronts you--for you merit it!

ELECTOR. Guards! Lead the prisoner back to his cell!



SCENE VIII

NATALIE _and the_ ELECTRESS _appear in the doorway, followed by
ladies-in-waiting. The others as before._

NATALIE. Mother! Decorum! Can you speak that word?
In such an hour there's none but just to love him--
My dear, unhappy love!

THE PRINCE (_turning_). Now I shall go!

TRUCHSZ (_holding him_).
No, nevermore, my Prince!

[_Several officers step in his way._]

THE PRINCE. Take me away!

HOHENZOLL. Liege, can your heart--

THE PRINCE (_tearing himself free_).
You tyrants, would you drag me
In fetters to my execution-place?
Go! I have closed my reckoning with this world.

[_He goes out under guard._]

NATALIE (_on the_ ELECTRESS' _breast_).
Open, O earth, receive me in your deeps.
Why should I look upon the sunlight more?



SCENE IX

_The persons, as in the preceding scene, with the exception of the_
PRINCE OF HOMBURG.

MARSHAL. God of earth! Did it have to come to that?

[_The_ ELECTOR _speaks in a low voice to an officer._]


KOTTWITZ (_frigidly_).
My sovereign, after all that has occurred
Are we dismissed?

ELECTOR. Not for the present, no!
I'll give you notice when you are dismissed!

[_He regards him a moment straightly and steadily; then takes the
papers which the page has brought him from the table and turns to the_
FIELD-MARSHAL.]

This passport, take it, for Count Horn the Swede.
Tell him it is my cousin's wish, the Prince's,
Which I have pledged myself to carry out.
The war begins again in three days' time!

[_Pause. He casts a glance at the death warrant._]

Judge for yourselves, my lords. The Prince of Homburg
Through disobedience and recklessness
Of two of my best victories this year
Deprived me, and indeed impaired the third.
Now that he's had his schooling these last days
Come, will you risk it with him for a fourth?

KOTTWITZ _and_ TRUCHSZ (_helter-skelter_).
What, my adored--my worshipped--What, my liege?--

ELECTOR. Will you? Will you?

KOTTWITZ. Now, by the living God,
He'd watch you standing on destruction's brink
And never twitch his sword in your behalf,
Or rescue you unless you gave command.

ELECTOR (_tearing up the death warrant_).
So, to the garden! Follow me, my friends!



SCENE X

_The Castle with the terrace leading down into the garden, as in ACT I.
It is night, as then.--The_ PRINCE OF HOMBURG, _with bandaged eyes,
is led in through the lower garden-wicket, by_ CAPTAIN STRANZ. _Officers
with the guard. In the distance one can hear the drumming of the
death-march._

[Illustration: #STATUE OF THE GREAT ELECTOR# Sculptor, Andreas Schlueter]

THE PRINCE. All art thou mine now, immortality!
Thou glistenest through the veil that blinds mine eyes
With that sun's glow that is a thousand suns.
I feel bright pinions from my shoulders start;
Through mute, ethereal spaces wings my soul;
And as the ship, borne outward by the wind,
Sees the bright harbor sink below the marge,
Thus all my being fades and is submerged.
Now I distinguish colors yet and forms,
And now--all life is fog beneath my feet.

[_The_ PRINCE _seats himself on the bench which stands about the oak
in the middle of the open space. The_ CAPTAIN _draws away from him and
looks up toward the terrace._]

How sweet the flowers fill the air with odor!
D'you smell them?

STRANZ (_returning to him_). They are gillyflowers and pinks.

THE PRINCE. How come the gillyflowers here?

STRANZ. I know not.
It must have been some girl that planted them.
Come, will you have a bachelor's button?

THE PRINCE. Thanks!
When I get home I'll have it put in water.



SCENE XI

_The_ ELECTOR _with the laurel-wreath, about which the golden chain is
twined, the_ ELECTRESS, PRINCESS NATALIE, FIELD-MARSHAL DOeRFLING,
COLONEL KOTTWITZ, HOHENZOLLERN, GOLZ, _and others. Ladies-in-waiting,
officers and boys bearing torches appear on the castle terrace_.
HOHENZOLLERN _steps to the balustrade and with a handkerchief signals
to_ CAPTAIN STRANZ, _whereupon the latter leaves the_ PRINCE OF
HOMBURG _and speaks a few words with the guards in the background_.

THE PRINCE. What is the brightness breaking round me, say!

STRANZ (_returning to him_).
My Prince, will you be good enough to rise?

THE PRINCE. What's coming?

STRANZ. Nothing that need wake your fear.
I only wish to free your eyes again.

THE PRINCE. Has my ordeal's final hour struck?

STRANZ (_as he draws the bandage from the_ PRINCE's _eyes_).
Indeed! Be blest, for well you merit it!

[_The_ ELECTOR _gives the wreath, from which the chain is hanging, to
the_ PRINCESS, _takes her hand and leads her down from the terrace.
Ladies and gentlemen follow. Surrounded by torches, the_ PRINCESS
_approaches the_ PRINCE, _who looks up in amazement; sets the wreath
on his head, the chain about his neck and presses his hand to her
breast. The_ PRINCE _tumbles in a faint_.]

NATALIE. Heaven! The joy has killed him!

HOHENZOLLERN (_raising him_). Help, bring help!

ELECTOR. Let him be wakened by the cannons' thunder!

[_Artillery fire. A march. The Castle is illuminated._]

KOTTWITZ. Hail, hail, the Prince of Homburg!

OFFICERS. Hail, hail, hail!

ALL. The victor of the field of Fehrbellin!

[_Momentary silence._]

THE PRINCE. No! Say! Is it a dream?

KOTTWITZ. A dream, what else?

SEVERAL OFFICERS. To arms! to arms!

TRUCHSZ. To war!

DOeRFLING. To victory!

ALL. In dust with all the foes of Brandenburg!




FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 1: Permission Porter & Coates, Philadelphia.]

[Footnote 2: Permission Porter & Coates, Philadelphia.]

[Footnote 3: Ten o'clock.]

[Footnote 4: Of Jupiter Tonans.]

[Footnote 5: The body in the Pantheon, the head in Saint Luke's
church.]

[Footnote 6: Strassburg.]

[Footnote 7: The hall of the Pantheon seems too low, because a part of
its steps is hidden by the rubbish.]

[Footnote 8: This opening in the roof is twenty-seven feet in
diameter.]

[Footnote 9: The Pole-star, as well as other northern constellations,
stands lower in the south.]

[Footnote 10: The German texts read: _Reben_, vines. But the
conjecture _Raben_ as the correct reading may be permitted.--ED.]

[Footnote 11: Permission The Macmillan Co., New York, and G. Bell &
Sons, Ltd., London.]

[Footnote 12: This appropriate expression was, if we mistake not,
first used by M. Adam Mueller in his _Lectures on German Science and
Literature_. If, however, he gives himself out as the inventor of the
thing itself, he is, to use the softest word, in error. Long before
him other Germans had endeavored to reconcile the contrarieties of
taste of different ages and nations, and to pay due homage to all
genuine poetry and art. Between good and bad, it is true, no
reconciliation is possible.]

[Footnote 13: This difficulty extends also to France; for it must not
be supposed that a literal translation can ever be a faithful one.
Mrs. Montague has done enough to prove how wretchedly even Voltaire,
in his rhymeless Alexandrines, has translated a few passages from
_Hamlet_ and the first act of _Julius Caesar_.]

[Footnote 14: It begins with the words: _A mind reflecting ages past_,
and is subscribed I.M.S.]

[Footnote 15: Lessing was the first to speak of Shakespeare in a
becoming tone; but he said, unfortunately, a great deal too little of
him, as in the time when he wrote the _Dramaturgie_ this poet had not
yet appeared on our stage. Since that time he has been more
particularly noticed by Herder in the _Blaetter von deutscher Art und
Kunst_; Goethe, in _Wilhelm Meister_; and Tieck, in "Letters on
Shakespeare" (_Poetisches Journal_, 1800), which break off, however,
almost at the commencement.]

[Footnote 16: The English work with which foreigners of every country
are perhaps best acquainted is Hume's _History_; and there we have a
most unjustifiable account both of Shakespeare and his age. "Born in a
_rude age_, and educated in the lowest manner, without any instruction
either _from the world_ or from books." How could a man of Hume's
acuteness suppose for a moment that a poet, whose characters display
such an intimate acquaintance with life, who, as an actor and manager
of a theatre, must have come in contact with all descriptions of
individuals, had no instruction from the world? But this is not the
worst; he goes even so far as to say, "a reasonable propriety of
thought he cannot for any time uphold." This is nearly as offensive as
Voltaire's "drunken savage."--TRANS.]

[Footnote 17: In my lectures on _The Spirit of the Age_.]

[Footnote 18: In one of his sonnets he says:

O, for my sake do you with fortune chide
The guilty goddess of my harmless deeds,
That did not better for my life provide
_Than public means which public manners breeds_.

And in the following:

Your love and pity doth the impression fill,
which _vulgar scandal_ stamp'd upon my brow.]

[Footnote 19:

And make those flights upon the banks of Thames,
That so did take Eliza and our James!]

[Footnote 20: This is perhaps not uncommon still in some countries.
The Venetian Director Medebach, for whose company many of Goldoni's
Comedies were composed, claimed an exclusive right to them.--TRANS.]

[Footnote 21: _Twelfth Night, or What You Will_--Act iii., scene 2.]

[Footnote 22: _As You Like It_.]

[Footnote 23: In one of the commendatory poems in the first folio
edition:

And on the stage at _half sword parley_ were
Brutus and Cassius.]

[Footnote 24: In the first volume of _Charakteristiken und Kritiken_,
published by my brother and myself.]

[Footnote 25: A contemporary of the poet, the author of the
already-noticed poem, (subscribed I.M.S.), tenderly felt this when he
said:

Yet so to temper passion that our ears
Take pleasure in their pain, and eyes in tears
Both smile and weep.]

[Footnote 26: In Hamlet's directions to the players. Act iii., scene
2.]

[Footnote 27: See Hamlet's praise of Yorick. In _Twelfth Night_,
Viola says:

This fellow is wise enough to play the fool,
And to do that well craves a kind of wit;
He must observe their mood on whom he jests,
The quality of the persons, and the time;
And like the haggard, check at every feather
That comes before his eye. This is a practice
As full of labor as a wise man's art:
For folly that he wisely shows is fit,
But wise men's folly fall'n quite taints their wit.--AUTHOR.

The passages from Shakespeare, in the original work, are given from the
author's masterly translation. We may be allowed, however, to observe that
the last line--

"Doch wozu ist des Weisen Thorheit nutz?"

literally, _Of what use is the folly of the wise?_--does not convey the
exact meaning of Shakespeare.--TRANS.]

[Footnote 28: "Since the little wit that fools have was silenced, the
little foolery that wise men have makes a greater show."--_As You Like
It_, Act I, scene 2.]

[Footnote 29: Charles the Bold, of Burgundy, is known to have
frequently boasted that he wished to rival Hannibal as the greatest
general of all ages. After his defeat at Granson, his fool accompanied
him in his hurried flight, and exclaimed, "Ah, your Grace, they have
for once Hanniballed us!" If the Duke had given an ear to this warning
raillery, he would not so soon afterward have come to a disgraceful
end.]

[Footnote 30: I shall take the opportunity of saying a few words
respecting this species of drama when I come to speak of Ben Jonson.]

[Footnote 31: Here follows, in the original, a so-called "Allegory of
Impudence."--TRANSLATOR'S NOTE.]

[Footnote 32: Here follows in the original a biographic sketch called
"Apprenticeship of Manhood."--TRANSLATOR'S NOTE.]

[Footnote 33: Permission Porter & Coates, Philadelphia.]

[Footnote 34: Translator: Charles Wharton Stork. From _Spiritual
Songs_ (1799).]

[Footnote 35: Translator: Charles Wharton Stork. From _Spiritual
Songs_ (1799).]

[Footnote 36: Translator: Charles Wharton Stork.]

[Footnote 37: Permission Porter & Coates, Philadelphia.]




























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