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CJje J3ineteem|> anD Ctoemietf) Centuries

Masterpieces of German Literature



Ph.D., LL.D., Litt.D.

Professor of the History of

German Culture and Curator of the Germanic Museum, Harvard University

Assistant Editor-in-Chief

Assistant Professor of

German, Harvard University

In Ctentg BolumtH






The Gebman Publication Society


Special Writers

Benjamin W. Wells,

Ph.D., Author of Modern German Literature: The Life of Jean Paul. Ph.D., Professor of the

James Taft Hatfield,

German Language and


Northwestern University: The Early Romantic School.
of Germanic Languages and Literatures,

Calvin Thomas, LL.D., Professor
Columbia University:
Introduction to Lucinda.



Nollen, Ph.D., President of Lake Forest College: The Life of Heinrich von Kleist.

Hermann Hagedorn,


Author of


Troop of the Guard, and Other

Poems; Poems and Ballads, The Prince of Homburg.

Charles Wharton Stork,







Though None Thy Name Should Cherish; To the Virgin; Hyperion's Song of Fate; Evening Phantasie.

Paul Bernard Thomas:
Lucinda; Fair Eckbert;


to Night.

Frances H. King: The Opening

of the Will; Schiller

and the Process


His Intellectual

Development; Michael Kohlhaas.
Lillie Winter, A.B.: The Story of Hyacinth and Roseblossom; Puss in Boots.

Louis H. Gray, Ph.D.: Aphorisms (By Schlegel).

Thomas Carlyle:
Quintus Fixlein's Wedding.
C. T.

Brooks: Rome.
Lectures on Dramatic Art.

John Black:
Frederic H. Hedge:

Aphorisms (By Novalis)


The Elves.


CONTENTS OF VOLUME JEAN PAUL The Life of IV page 1 Jean Paul. King The Prince of Homburg. Translated by Charles Wharton Stork 191 FRIEDRICH HOLDERLIN Hyperion's Song of Fate. Translated by Louis H. Translated by Frances H. Translated by Charles Wharton Stork 192 192 LUDWIG TIECK Translated by Lillie Winter Fair Eckbert. Carlyle Quintus Fixlein's Rome. Translated by Paul Bernard Thomas Though None Thy Name Should Cherish. 180 185 Aphorisms. Translated by Lillie Winter. By Calvin Thomas 120 124 175 Translated by Paul Bernard Thomas Aphorisms. Translated by Frederic H. Brooks The Opening of the Will. Frances H. Translated by Paul Bernard Thomas The Elves. By John Nollen Translated by Frances H. 294 308 416 . Translated by John Black 71 FR1EDRICH SCHLEGEL Introduction to Lucinda. King The Early Romantic School. Gray Lucinda. Translated by Charles Wharton of Stork 190 To the Virgin. Translated by Charles Wharton Stork Evening Phantasie. T. Wells Wedding. von Kleist. Hedge Puss in Boots. King By Benjamin W. Hedge 189 Hymn to Night. NOVALIS (FRIEDR1CH VON HARDENBERG) The Story Hyacinth and Roseblossom. Translated by C. 194 252 272 HE1NRICH The Life of Heinrich VON KLE1ST S. By James Taft Hatfield Schiller Translated by 39 48 AUGUST WILHELM SCHLEGEL Lectures on Dramatic Art. Translated by Hermann Hagedorn Michael Kohlhaas.. Translated by Thomas 16 21 32 WILHELM VON HUMBOLDT and the Process of His Intellectual Development. Translated by Frederic H.

120 124 180 190 192 194 198 Tieck.ILLUSTRATIONS — VOLUME IV t PAGE Richter Frontispiece 2 On the Elbe near Schreckenstein Castle. Hader By E. By Moritz von Schwind The Chapel in the Forest. By Moritz von Schwind A Wanderer looks into a Landscape. Ludwig 282 ™* By 300 Christian Rauch The Royal Castle at Berlin Statue of the Great Elector. By Eduard Eichens The Queen of Night. By Moritz von Schwind August Wilhelm Schlegel Caroline Schlegel Friedrich Schlegel. By Vogel von Vogelstein Puss in Boots. By Moritz von Schwind Friedrich Holderlin. By Franz Kriiger 18 40 The University of Berlin A Hermit watering Horses. By Ludwig Richter Wilhelm von Humboldt. Hader Bridal Procession. 44 54 60 62 72 74 Hader The Creation. By E. By Moritz von Schwind Heinrich von Kleist Sarcophagus of Queen Louise in the Mausoleum at Charlottenburg. By Ludwig Jean Paul. By Moritz von Schwind Dance of the Elves. By Moritz von Schwind Novalis. By E. By Andreas Schluter 418 496 .

being devoted to German Romantic literature of the early nineteenth century. each volume will be dominated. parallel to the literary development here represented. Volumes IV and V. whose works offer an artistic analogy to the character and spirit of the works of literature contained in it. German art. . There will be few direct illustrations of the subject matter of the text. will present at the same time selections from the work of two of the foremost Romantic painters of Germany: Moritz von Schwind and Ludwig of the It is hoped that in this way The German Classics Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries will shed a not unwelcome side-light upon the development of modern Richter. Instead.EDITOR'S £_c&grmangROM this NOTE on. tendencies of German painting in the nine- volume teenth century. certain broad bring out. for instance. an attempt will be made to in the illustrations. or a group of masters. Kuno Francke. by a master. as far as possible.


by any breath of cosmoIt meant much that the child who was in politan life. Literature. the ancestry. who was to be a bond between the old literature and the 'HE Spring and new. his father had followed in his churchly steps with especial leaning to music his maternal grandfather was a well-to-do clothmaker in the near-by town of Hof. was typically German. he called himself Jean Paul. his mother a long.JEAN PAUL THE LIFE OF JEAN PAUL Ph. the men of Weimar. as untouched as Wunsiedel itself. By Benjamin W. of the Napoleonic tyranny and of the War of Liberation. Wells. . for his temperament was his sole patrimony and for many years his chief depend- ence. as far back as we can trace it. later life to interpret most intimately the spirit of the German people through the days of the French Revolution. with a thought of Jean Jacques Rousseau. It was well that Fritz brought sunsuffering housewife. Author of Modern German I came into the world Jean Paul liked to tell his together. beside. He was the eldest of seven children. grandfather had held worthily minor offices in the church. The boy was christened Johann Paul Friedrich Richter." friends when in later days of comfort and fame he looked back on his early years. It was not till 1793 that.D. save he. Wunsiedel was a typical German hill village. born on the first day (March 21) and at almost the first hour of the Spring of 1763 at Wunsiedel in the Fichtelgebirge. Place and time are alike significant in his birth. should Richter 's have such heredity and such environment. in fact. He was. the very heart of Germany. shine with him into the world. None. yet independent of. His parents called him Fritz.

" where " for knowledge pressed and twisted in rootlets. hood here Jean Paul in his last years set down some mellowed recollections. but all is rich and full of loveliness and wonder. deep. and of his eagerness at school. made him doubt whether he had not been born rather for philosophy than for imaginative writing. Of his boyJoditz. too. The boys used to count it a proud. for then they could carry it back again the unmelted remains of sugar-candy from the bottom of " there as it. used to take him and his brother Adam across the Saale to dig potatoes and gather nuts. joyful spirit looking through those young eyes. some friend." Very characteristic of the later Jean Paul is one incident of his childhood which. until his too-anxious father took him from contact with the rough peasant boys and tried to educate him himlittle ABC self. but. as he sat by the window meditating his ser" and pick mon. green spring-place. of his rapture at his first book and its gilded cover. ' ' Every book that the boy Fritz could anywise come at " a fresh was." Simple pleasures surely. Carlyle says.2 THE GERMAN CLASSICS passed unscathed through the privations and trials of the growing household with its accumulating burdens of debt. the mellowing of his humor. He tells. thirsty every direction to seize and absorb. He was witness to the birth of his own self -consciousness. he tells us. was a bold. . alternat- When ing in the labor and the play how his thrifty mother would send him with the provision bag to her own mother's at Hof. at least as a warning. But if the Richters were to the future author of Levana. Fritz was two years old the family moved to another village of the Fichtelgebirge. and to such a spirit the world has nothing poor. still in his dressing gown. an experience not without value. who would give him goodies that he would share with . privilege to carry the father's coffee-cup to him of a Sun- day morning. they were very poor. he says. He tells how his father. For Fritz these trials meant but the tempering of his wit. the deepening of his sympathies.

Linde & Co. II. Berlin E..UlFR JEAN PAUL .Permission E.


child. Katharina Barin's first kiss was. such as never had been and never was to be. in the almost cloistered seclusion of the Fichtelgebirge. for him. but the most diligent search has revealed no trace in these years of that creative imagination with which he was so richly dowered." ' ' But. It has At that moment my / saw remained ever since radiant. The boy's horizon was thus widened. and after some desultory attempts at instruction in Schwarzenbach. liant. came the boy's earliest strong emotional attachment. city of God. even to Schiller. all at once. When Fritz was thirteen his father received a long-hoped- for promotion to Schwarzenbach. much he could never get at all. by the house door. looking to the left 1 * ' ' ' ' 3 a at the very young wood- a lightning flash from heaven. evidently the most gifted of his sons. The place of " Frau Aja " in the development of the child Goethe's fancy was taken at Joditz by the cow-girl.500 inhabitants. who died. as was to be expected. Much that came unsought." It is curious to contrast this childhood. a last consolation to the father. " a unique pearl of a minute. when. Here Fritz first participated in the Communion and has left a remarkable record of his emotional experience at " becoming a citizen in the About the same time. arose before me: the inner vision I am an /. the feeling soon passed away. sent him in 1779 to the His entrance examination was brilhigh school at Hof. with Goethe's at cosmopolitan Frankfurt or even with Schiller's at Marbach. for the church. then counting some 1. a few weeks later. The father designed Fritz. I was standing. Eagerness to learn Fritz showed in pathetic fulness.JEAN PAUL One forenoon. as with the Communion. like had a struggle to come by. a market town near Hof. His . worn out with the anxieties of accumulating debt. though the family fortunes were far from finding the expected relief. he writes. itself for the first time and forever. Richter pile. though the memory remained. From his fellow pupils the country lad suffered much till his courage and endurance had compelled respect.

" He devised . Richter went to Leipzig. straightforward style. however. He suffered from cold and stretched his credit for rent and food to the breaking point. His grandfather had died. With such literary baggage. and an eagerness for reform that shows the influence of Lessing. Goethe and even Helvetius. Remember made ' ' : this prophecy. the essays are marked by a clear. Some little essays. From the academic environment and its opportunities he got much. a chance has preserved. with Lessing and Lavater. he found a kindred spirit and a helpful friend. The novel is an echo of happy Goethe's Werther. Religion is the dominant interest. two addresses. fortified with personal recommendations and introductions from the Head Master at Hof. with a Certificate of Maturity and a testimonium paupertatis that might entitle him to remission of fees and possibly free board. liberally minded Pastor Vogel of near-by Rehau. He could not look to his mother for help and did not look to her for counsel. He continued to be in the main self-taught and extended his independence in manners and dress perhaps a little beyond the verge of eccenMeantime matters at home were going rapidly tricity. But the emptier " for his stomach the more his head abounded in plans writing books to earn money to buy books. an absence of sentimentality or mysticism. from formal instruction little.4 THE GERMAN CLASSICS In the teachers were conscientious but not competent. the inheritance had been largely consumed in a law-suit. In this clergyman's generously opened library the thirsty student his first acquaintance with the unorthodox thought of his time. When in 1781 he left Hof for the University of Leipzig the pastor took leave of the youth with the You will some time be able to render prophetic words me a greater service than I have rendered you." Under such stimulating encouragement Richter began to write. from bad to worse. but the youth is no longer orthodox. and a novel. indeed he is only conditionally Christian.

would have recognized in Richter the promise of a successor not unworthy to carry the biting acid of the Disowning Letter over to the hand of Heine. is The point of the Law-Suits theologians and the nobility. writing for magazines at starvation prices. printed early in 1783. were followed later in that year by another series. much mellowed in revision ' ' — altogether to its profit. aspects like Iago. she. had he lived to read their study of Swift. interrupted his studies at even before the insistence of creditors compelled Leipzig him to a clandestine flight. Then he shared for a time his mother's poverty at Hof and from 1786 to 1789 was tutor in the house of Oerthel. Selections from the Papers of the Devil. stinging epigrams. The Invisible Lodge. papers seemed to him little better than school exercises. They show a maturing To . in which the unsympathetic figure of Roper is undoubtedly meant to present the not very gracious personality of the Kommerzienrat. the student being now of an age when. satirical sketches. a parvenu Commercial-Counsellor in Topen. but they gave a promise soon to be redeemed in Greenland These Law-Suits. he was Later these nothing if not critical. and persevering in an indefatigable search for some one to undertake his next book. The Law-Suits proved too bitter for the public taste and was seven years before their author found another pubMeanwhile Richter was leading a precarious existence. A love affair with the daughter of a minor official which it lisher. but both had to wait 38 not years for a second edition.JEAN PAUL friend at Reliau in 1782 a ' ' 5 a system of spelling reform and could submit to his pastor little sheaf of essays on various of Folly. took seriously. at least. This was in 1784. this period belongs a collection of Aphorisms whose bright wit reveals deep reflection. directed especially against Richter's uncompromising fierceness suggests youthful hunger almost as much as But Lessing. This experience he was to turn to good account in Levana and in his first novel. his first volume to find a publisher.

to sympathize and permitted himself an astonishing variety and even simultaneous experiments. confirm the impression of progress. in a transcendental atmosphere of sentiment. as alert to observe as he was keen ever. arousing but never fulfilling the expectation of a formal betrothal. The practice was a little different. both at Hof and later in the aristocratic circles that were presently to open to him. In a note book of this time he " Prize writes: How for the Erotic question Academy: friendship toward women go and what is the difference between it and love ! That Riehter called this far may ' ' circle his " erotic academy " is significant. livelier and wider sympathies. when Riehter." That is the theory. Quite as remarkable and much more disquieting were the ideas about friendship and love which Riehter now began to develop under the stimulating influence of a group of young ladies at Hof. I do not seek. Devil's Papers. which finds fullest expression in Hesperus. he says. no man ever had so many women of education and haps of quickly changing * ' ' ' ' ' ' ' . That Jean Paul was capable of inspiring love of the common Persort is abundantly attested by his correspondence. love was to be wholly platonic. published in 1789. but he who thinks her. but none on this. keen insight. immortality and soul-affinity with some half dozen young women to the perturbation of their spirits. Rosseau was in the main his guide. the second surely would. It shows Riehter at Hof exchanging fine-spun sentiments on God. " He does not love who sees his beloved. In his theory.6 THE GERMAN CLASSICS The mind. I can overlook all spots on that. If the first kiss did not end it. and his success in stimulating childish initiative through varied and ingenious pedagogical experiments seems to have been really remarkable. He was in such relations. was about to become tutor to the children of three friendly families in Schwarzenbach. the fairest face but the fairest heart. In his new field Riehter had great freedom to develop his ideas of education as distinct from inculcation. after a few months at Hof.

Though written in the year of the Invisible Lodge. save perhaps for the first years of his married life. at any later period. revealing the beauty of common things and showing the true charm of quiet domesRichter 's Contented Schoolmaster lacked much in ticity. above all it bore the unmistakable mint-mark of genius. it gave the promise of a new pedagogy and a fruitful esthetic. Richter 's first novel. might suffice to In this delicious pedagogical 1790. With the it was for the time overshadowed by the general public success of a more ambitious effort. Life of the Contented Schoolmaster Maria Wuz. yet appealed very strongly to the Germans of 1793 by its descriptions of nature and its sentimentalized emotion. German and characteristic of Richter healthy. It seems as though one of the great Dutch its make author immortal. or. but it revealed unguessed resources in the German language.JEAN PAUL social position 7 " throw themselves " at him. grace of form. It was truly of its time. The immediate effect of the bright hours at Hof on Richter as a writer was wholly beneficent. which alone. though involved in plot and reaching an empty conclusion. And with these was a real little masterpiece. Florian Falb el's Journey and Bailiff Josuah Freudel's Complaint Bible show a new geniality in the personification of amusing foibles. said the Berlin critic Moritz. The Lodge. idyl. is storming of the Tuileries it shows the prose-poet of the Fichtelgebirge as yet untouched by the political convulsions of the time. the humor is sound. Wuz won The This fanciful tale of an idealized a study of the effects in after life of a freemasonry secluded education. to read how " the angel who loves the earth brought the . Men and especially women liked then. but that he was capable of returning such love in kind does not appear from acts or letters at this time. cordial recognition from the critics. written in December. better than they do now. painters were guiding the pen. thoroughly at his best. it showed democratic sympathies more genuine than Rousseau's. Mr.

an obtrusion of the author's personality. It brought women by swarms to his feet. and a seraph entered into their beating hearts and Of greater gave them the flames of a supernal love. one love to another." present interest than the heartbeats of hero or heroine are the minor characters of the story. the Margrave of Bayreuth. They were not " never to It was his platonic rule discouraged there. is the tendency. has also his niche. Wanton eccentricity was given fuller play." a general warmth Intellectually awakened women were attracted possibly as much by Richter's knowledge of their feelings as by the fascination of his person- . or with none. formlessness seemed cultivated as an art. Digressions interrupt the narrative with slender excuse. Before the Lodge was out of press Jean Paul had begun Hesperus. to contrast the inconsiderate harshness of women. later more marked.8 THE GERMAN CLASSICS most holy lips of the pair together in an inextinguishable kiss. too. there is." but to experiment with " " tutti love. sacrifice derful deepening and refinement of emotional description. which magnified the merits of the earlier novel but also exaggerated its defects. in the story. Notable. the style seems as wilfully crude as the mastery in wordhis work ' ' Jean Paul. or rather pillory. Werther was not yet out of fashion and lovers of his " " simultaneous love. hand there is both greater variety and greater distinction in the characters. Richter for the first time signed ' ' men He was well paid for it and had no further serious financial cares. It established the fame of Jean Paul for his generation. as with the English Sterne. or 45 Dog-post-days. The despotic spendthrift. ' ' On the other building and word-painting is astonishing. who declared the book better than Goethe. presenting genially the various types of humor or studies from life made in the " or in the families of Richter's " erotic academy pupils." of universal affection. * ' with the patient humility of Encouraged by Moritz. a more developed fabulation and a won" Sorrows " found in Hesperus a book after their hearts.

The crown of it all is The Wedding. too. like Wuz. Based on Fifteen Little Boxes of Memoranda. in view of what was to follow." Fixlein is the archetypal pedant. Its satire of philological pedantry has not yet lost pertinence or pungency. he began work immediately on the genial Life of Quintus Fixlein. ambitious of authorship. Meanwhile. is his took off his hat before the . 1794. picture of his simple his room While yet noble mind. 9 Hesperus lays bare many little wiles dear to feminine hearts." At Hof." says Doering. which took in both high and low. * * * Pigeons fluttered in and out of the chamber. His fully set forth so. the undercurrent of courageous democratic protest which . The bridal pair's visit to the graves of by-gone loves is a gem of fantasy. when an invitation from Charlotte von Kalb to visit Weimar brought him new interests and connections. little childishnesses are delight- awe of aristocracy. of the schoolhouse and the parsonage. having finished Hesperus in July. to " Richter's study and sitting- offered about this time. but only one or two drawers with excerpts and manuscripts. Jean Paul continued to teach with originality and much success until 1796. mother bustled about the housework at fire or table he sat in a corner of the same room at a plain writing-desk with few or no books at hand. While still at work on Hesperus Jean Paul returned his mother's house at Hof.JEAN PAUL ality. even if he saw no one there. He always windows of the manor house. Quintus. and contains some keenly sympathetic satire on German housewifery. his first " a true and beautiful biographer. The very heart of humor is in the account of the commencement exercises at his school. reflecting Richter's pedagogical interests and much of his personal experience. an idyl. His creator treats him with unfailing good humor and " the consciousness of a kindred folly. But behind all the humor and satire must not be forgotten. proposes to himself a catalogued interpretation of misprints in German books and other tasks hardly less laboriously futile.

death and wedding of F. In 1796. carrying with him the heart of Charlotte von Kalb. already a Mecca of literary pilgrimage and the centre of There. Siebenkas. of — ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' commonplaces of the histories of literature. Fixlein appeared in 1796. as he remarked dryly. H. those who.10 finds its THE GERMAN CLASSICS keenest expression in the " Free Note " to Chapter Six. when Charlotte had . Advocate of it enthusiastic welcome Intrinsically more important the Poor" (1796-7). In 1797 the death of Jean Paul's mother dissolved home for a bonds and he soon left Hof forever. estranged from him. were jealous and those who. like Frau von Stein. though still . become the first of many " beautiful souls " in confusion of spirit about their heart's desire. Goethe and Schiller. He wished no heroine for he was no hero. at the suggestion of the gifted. There were sides of Goethe's universal genius to which Richter felt akin. Jean Paul visited Weimar. like Herder. the unfinished Biographical Recre- Cranium of a Giantess. Its chief interest is in the ations under the extends to the French Revolution. somewhat later. life. but he was quite ready to listen to Herder's warning against his townsman's " unrouged " infidelity. which had become socially more objectionable since Goethe's union with Christiane Vulpius. an unprized and somewhat embarrassing possession. were Goethe. His own account of his visit to the rockbound Schiller and to Goethe 's are palatial hall neo-classicism. received the new light with enthusiasm others with some reserve. demurred to the vagaries of Jean Paul's unquestioned genius. and Jean Paul precious presently returned to Hof. who were seeking to blend the classical with the German spirit. sprang immediately from a visit to Bayreuth in 1794 and his first introduction to aristocracy. emancipated and ill-starred Charlotte von Kalb. Fruit and Thorn Pieces which crowded the other subject from his mind and tells with much idyllic charm of " the marriage. is the Flower. Richter's next story.

a pretty idyl of an ideal courtship and marriage as his fancy now painted it for himself. In this novel the thought of God and betrothal. divine harmony. will in contest with the Richter has come to see The maturing Titan is human . Jean Paul was for a time in Leipzig and in Dresden. in 1800. to the time when his heart shall be " an extinct marriage-crater. a little ruefully. which Jean Paul regarded as his principal work and most complete creation." had been in his mind since It was begun in 1797 and finished. hitherto his quest had been for the golden fleece of womanhood. but the dominant interests were hereafter to be in education and in political action. but as devoted and better Karoline Mayer. is offered as a solution of all problems of immortality l ' nature and society. some of them unworthy. Biography. her aristocratic connections being partially reconciled to the mesalthis period are " liance by Richter's appointment as Legationsrat. In October. in the sunshine of Herder's praise. Richter's marriage is cardinal in his career. In his own picturesque language. Some imaginative work he was still to do. Presently he was moved to essay the realization of this ideal and was for a time betrothed to Karoline von Feuchtersleben." though he soon felt himself out of tune with Duchess Amalia's liteTo this time belongs a curious Conjectural rary court." The writings of unimportant. Titan. this time to the less intellectually gifted. The change had been already foreshadowed in 1799 by his stirring paper On Charlotte Corday (published in 1801). hereafter it was to be for a crusade of men. which." and after a visit to Berlin. 1798. seemed at first his " Canaan. soon after his 1792. he was again betrothed. he was again in Weimar. He begins already to look forward.JEAN PAUL ' ' t 11 ' ' time maintaining diligent correspondence with the erotic as well as with new and more aristocratic academy daughters of the Storm and Stress. whom he married in 1801. where he basked in the smiles of Queen Luise. He dowered was then in his thirty-eighth year.

even in remaining Under its a fragment. and abundant subtle observation. Love and Knowledge. Richter with his young wife and presently their first daughter. with much self -revelation of the antinomy in the author's own nature. and Vult. Emma. Though disconnected and Levana has been for three generations a true unsystematic The first fruit to . shows the parting of the ways. a pension. While Wild Oats was in the making. frolicsome exuberance there is keen analysis. which Bavaria. 1806. ripen at the Bayreuth home was Levana.12 THE GERMAN CLASSICS that idealism in thought and feeling must be balanced by realism in action if the thinker is to bear his part in the The novel naturally falls far short of vast design. The story of Walt follows a somewhat similar design. and a glowing eulogy of him closes Its most original and perhaps most valuable the study. and ends with a brilliant praise of wit. Some descriptive passages are very remarkable and the minor characters. Bayreuth was marked by the appearance of Introduction to Esthetics. twin brothers. was to remain Richter's not always happy home till his death in 1825. much more to suggest Goethe's Wilhelm Meister. There is something here to recall his early satires. a fine nobility The phiof temper. The unfinished Wild Oats of 1804. just as Napoleon was crushing the power of Prussia at Jena. afterward continued by the King of Dalberg In 1804 the family settled in Bayreuth. notably Roquairol. a book that. are more interesting than the hero or the heroine. the Mephistophelean Lovelace. finished in October. Once more the parts are more realizing than the whole. section contains a shrewd discrimination of the varieties of humor. was making a sort of triumphal progress among the court towns He received about this time from Prince of Germany. losophy was Herder's. offers a work of the world. as though in a recapitulating review of Richter 's own most distinctive The move to contribution to German literature. its study in contrasts between the dreamy and the practical.

who had been reticent of praise in regard to the novels. a Peace Sermon. in protest against the censorship of books. least of all a heart. as the fires of Butterflies were expanded false to their promises. these in 1817. " " Germany's Martyr-Week. * * * Your hands are used more than your heads. Now to his countrymen. found in boldest virtues without the least excess. Then. In the years that follow Waterloo every little journey that Richter took was made . Katzenberger's Journey to the Baths. especially in regard to the education of women and their social position in Germany. ' ' teachers. Against the ignorance of the then existing conditions Your Jean Paul raised eloquent and indignant protest. even your parents. Goethe. The Germany now began to speak and think of Richter as Jean Paul the Unique." Levana says of the use and abuse of philology and about the study of history as a preparation for political action is no less significant." Levana " the From It the education of children for life Richter turned naturallv to the education of his fellow Germans for citizenwas a time of national crisis. Already in 1805 he ship. The effect of this rollicking satire on affectation and estheticism was to arouse a more manly spirit in the nation and so it helped to prepare for the patriotic youth of way of liberation. oppressed by Napoleon. had published a Little Book of Freedom. Most noteworthy of the minor writings of this period is Dr.JEAN PAUL 13 yeast of pedagogical ideas. published in 1809. and when the War of Liberation was over and the German rulers had proved Twilight. Twilight Thoughts for Germany and After Moscow heralded a new day." he ex" claims. your companions. What Nothing is pardoned you. came Butterflies of the Dawn. but only with your fans. in which Richter denounced the princes for their faithlessness as boldly as he had done the sycophants of Bonaparte. They let you play. trample and crush the little flowers you shelter and cherish. he addressed at intervals from 1808 to 1810. into Political Fast-Sermons for and transformed.

ing monument had already long been raised in the funeral oration by Ludwig Borne at Frankfurt. On the bier was borne the unfinished manuscript of Selina. "A Star has set. For this he " and the eye of before it rises again. Other students bore. and by the death of his son Max. copyright being then very imperfect in Germany. women more common sense. Truth about Jean Paul's Life. mental and few weeks physical. the Introduction to Esthetics." Now." said the orator. bach and his confirmation. an essay on immorSixty students with lighted torches escorted the tality. " like a child born curled and forthwith stretched on a swathing cushion. and The Comet. rich in comedy. in his maturity. Levana and procession. On the evening of November 17 was the funeral.000). but of all his writings it has perhaps the greatest charm. Sixteen years after Richter's death the King of Bavaria But his most endurerected a statue to him in Bayreuth.14 THE GEEMAN CLASSICS Meanwhile the occasion of public receptions and festivities. for which he ($26. published at intervals from 1820 to 1822. Both partners might well have heeded Levana's counsel that " Men should show more love. He died on November 14. Richter's last years were clouded by disease. unbridled in The Autobiography extends only to Schwarzenhumor. on the ground that in all his works not one line could be found to offend religion or virtue. exuberant in fancy. Civil and military. 1825. let himself go. displayed. he had paid too great deference to rule.000 thaler sought a special privilege. said Richter of The Comet. also unfinished. and a wild tale he makes of it. Hitherto. he says. he will." Of Richter's last decade two books only call for notice here. a fragment of autobiography written in 1819. life in the Bayreuth home grew somewhat strained. state and city officials took part in it. for bright genius this century will close moves in wide orbits . A before his own death he arranged was plete works. for an edition of his comto receive 35. a novel.

But he will stand born for all and wait patient on the threshold of the twentieth century smiling till his creeping people shall come to join him.JEAN PAUL 15 and our distant descendants will be first again to bid glad welcome to that from which their fathers have taken sad * * * We shall mourn for him whom we have leave. for he has Yet a time will come when he shall be not lived for all. lost and for those others who have not lost him. and all will lament him." .

over the graves. and the year when his parent departed. and to look with favor and acceptance on the purpose of today. coffee-services. where the little shrunk metallic door on the grated his cross of his father uttered to him the inscriptions of death. plates full of bride-cakes were going round like potter's * Permission Porter & Coates.QUINTUS FIXLEIN'S WEDDING* From The Life of Quintus Fixlein (1796) By Jean Paul TRANSLATED BY T. and were drinking diligently. Then. lay round mansion like a court. tea-services. on the moist green. the marriage-guests had all thrown off their nightcaps. which (as in many other places) together with the church. and here. turned toward the tempests of the world: here. or like the windward side of the narrow house. were advancing in succession and . But on returning to the house. CARLTLE the sound of the morning prayer-bell. a cooking. and entreated God to bless him in his office. and all the admonitions and mementos. he walked into his fenceless little angular flower-garden. and he now lifted up by heart his morning prayer. and to spare his mother 's life. composed and confident in the divine keeping. there was a clat- — tering. I say. a frizzling. did his spirit cool itself from the warm dreams of Earth: here. where the white flat grave-stone of his Teacher lay before him like the fallen-in door of the Janus-temple of life. his mood grew softer and more solemn. over whose closed flowers the churchyard wall was still spreading broad shadows. Philadelphia. which usually he read. [16] . he was met on all hands by the bell-ringing and the Janizary-music of weddinggladness. Here. he pressed the stalks of his tulips deeper into the mellow earth. graven on the lead there. and warm beer-services. bridegroom — for the din of preparation was — went out into disturbing his quiet orison the the churchyard.

and slain fishes (laid under the napkins to frighten the guests) went round. and. on the trees of the church-window. and were drinking or dancing along for their own behoof. like fishes in the sunshine Vol. . with three frames or cistern-wheels. the evening-star was glittering over parsonage and churchyard. was heard rehearsing from his own house an Arioso. when the sky-queen besprinkled with blossoms the bride. TV —2 . The heart of the singing bridegroom was " that on his for from its Not till * like to bridal-day it was the marriage bene- Still worse and louder grew the business during dinner. full of quivering. humble love. However. descended upon Earth in her timid joy. But now rushed into one. Out of doors. he purposed to surprise his clerical superior. young lads. when pastry-work and march-pane-devices were brought forward. the officiating priest. two youths ventured even in the middle of the parsonage-court to mount a plank over a beam and commence seesawing. so soon as they were perfect. at length. the congregation. the gleaming vapor of the — departed sun was encircling the earth. when the marriage-guests had well nigh forgotten the marriage-pair. danced round: for they had instrumental music from the city there." diction could he pray a little. and the sparrows . * * joy place leap all so respectable and grand. and when the guests rose and themselves went round. and One minute handed over toward night they penetrated like a wedge into the open door nay. in this sunshine of Fate. with which. all the arms of the foaming joy-streams when the bells began when the procession-column set forth with the whole village round and before it when the organ. about nine o'clock. struck louder and louder their rolling peals on the drum of the jubilee-festival.QUINTUS FIXLEIN'S WEDDING 17 The Schoolmaster. no one heeded it. and the villagers began to see and hear more and more. when glasses. to the other the sugar-bowl and bottle-case of joy: the guests heard and saw less and less. when poor mortals.

under a long dreary pressure and her soul expanded and breathed in the free open garden. were quivering to clasp the soft belief that this residue secured continuance of heart of his beloved. in which for the is it therefore that soul nothing more remains but souls — . and may Happiness. as is the ancient usage. put warmer love in our hearts? Is it the nightly pressure of warm and draw helplessness or is it the exalting separation from the turmoil of life that veiling of the world. — the letters in which the loved like name stands written on our spirit appear. never fall. phosphorus-writing. to encircle it gently and fast. by night. does the night. grows pale wax-face was bleaching still whiter under the sunbeams of O.18 THE GERMAN CLASSICS of the sky. had in secret pressed to his joy-filled breast his bride and his mother — then did he lock a slice of wed- ding-bread privily into a press. . it to his own. and past its servants' hall. on whose flowery soil destiny had cast forth the first seeds of the blossoms which today were gladdening her existence. in their cloudy traces they but smoke 1 while by day He walked with his bride into the Castle garden: she hastened quickly through the Castle. were leaping up from their wet cold element. with greater love for the sole partner of his life. four springs instead of four seasons open and shut thy All the arms of his soul. in the old superstitious bread for the whole marriage. and when the bridegroom under the star of happiness and love. she herself met him with his mother. . as he flower-bells to the sun! floated on the sea of joy. He led her from the crowded dancing-room into the cool evening. in fire. thou lily of Heaven. to deliver him in private the bridal-nightgown and bridal-shirt. Why does the evening. Many a countenance Thiennette's in violent emotions. even of joy. As he returned. Still Eden! is moon The Green flower-chequered chiaroscuro! sleeping under ground like a dead one but beyond . casting like a comet its long train of radiance over all his heaven. where the fair flowers of her young life had been crushed broad and dry.

ifS. .


that And . now bloodless. over the thick intertwisted tangles of light garden. deprives no single starlet of its light. now. In the blue pond. on her heart. I am unspeakably happy. The silver sparks of stars were rising on the altar of the East. be holy as Eternity. and said. the brideman of the . and. we will live like Surely I will do all that angels. and of my withering and your own. hovers. like a conqueror. and " And the weep not only for joy. now standing The wandering pair arrived at the old gardener's hut. louder through the trees. no. and the gushing waters were moistening the flower-beds. and laid his soul. like a the bushes. The wind whirred. like a night-bird. nothing ah. modest as a bride. thou dear good soul Call closer to her. secondly.QUINTUS FIXLEIN'S WEDDING like rose-leaves 19 the garden the sun's red evening-clouds have fallen down and the evening-star. that I am happy. like children together! : * ' two years ago I had nothing. as they stept forth again from the sacred grove into the magic-dusky garden. locked and dumb. with clammy Present. though without kissing him Dearest! " me Thou is good to thee . best love. with Winter at his feet. . and said Best Thiennette. because he wished to look into this fairest evening sky. and. new mortal pair. he took off his hat first. with dark windows in the fragment of the Past surviving in the Bared twigs of trees were folding. like a flower. falling down. like a glancing butterfly. The Spring was standing. and. thou Dearest. a dusky evening sky lay hollowed out. and the tones called to the pair who had first become happy within it: " Enter. were extinguished in the red sea of the West. it is ' ' ! ' ' : always. rustling. but . and gave tones to the acacia-grove. They reached the blazing. sun. he might internally thank God. I call She drew him thee Thou. but cannot! Ah. above the rosy red. half -formed leaves. but for gratitude also! wet-eyed bridegroom led his wet-eyed bride under the blossoms. and think of what is past. through thee. and would say much. marriage-house.

and made that also great. and darker. I ' ' have neither father nor mother." He was silent. would have disturbed the flower- They turned rather. Majestic up on the groves and mountains stood the Night before man's Over the white steepleheart. Do not forsake me O thou who hast still a father and a mother. dear he was carried hither to his long rest. As an overpowering sadness seized heart with violent streams of tears. as in the blossoming vine. their softened hearts sought stillness and a foreign touch. ! and thou seest us not. and faltered is full of ashes. : " beloved. with harsh noise. The son noticed his father's grave. couldst But thy eyes are empty. into the churchyard to preserve their mood. and drove him to his the sunk hillock. let this day of joy be holily concluded. the little door of the metal cross. who had stayed so long behind them. he led his bride to the grave. on the day when thy soul is full of joyful tears and needs a bosom whereon to shed them. She fell upon his heart. The bride wept aloud she saw the moldering coffins of her parents open. and said: Here sleeps he. on which the wind was opening and shutting. And with this embracing at a father 's grave. behind it. thou today but see the happiness of thy son. and the two dead arise and look round for their daughter. ! . and. father. my good father in his thirty-second year thou good. . and winded nuptials of their souls. wavered the withered summit of the May-pole with faded flag.20 THE GERMAN CLASSICS . to let the year of his death be read on the brass plate within. forsaken on the earth. obelisk the sky rested bluer. and thy breast like my mother 1 ' . thank God for it.

the Porta del Popolo. then the moon rent her black heavens. high as the clouds. then was it to him as if the past had risen from the dead. Coates. . " So. dead heathen-world. the heart of a cold. the heavens black. as if the stream of time ran backward and bore him with it under the streams of heaven he heard the seven old mountain-streams.ROME* From Titan (1800) By Jean Paul TRANSLATED BY C. rushing and roaring. uphove the world . on the Ponte Molle. Gaspard was silent. and. and three streets ran gleaming apart. as they passed through the long Corso to the tenth ward) " thou art in the of the God war here veritably & camp of — is * where he grasped the Permission Porter o'clock. hilt of the monstrous war-sword. [21] tTen . At length the constellation of the mountain city of God. cities. from its foundations. with scattered lights. Philadelphia.f when the carriage rolled through the triumphal gate of the city. with seven arms. and the bells (which to his ear were alarm-bells) sounded out the fourth hour. There stood the Egyptian Obelisk of the gateway. BROOKS after the earthquake the heavens swathed themselves in seas. The naked Campagna and heath were covered with the mantle of rain. and poured down out of the cleft clouds the splendor of a whole sky." (said Albano to himself. opened out into distant nights. T. that he was now going across the Tiber. in the night. that stood so broad before him. lay up and down. the eternal Eome and when he heard. which once came down from Rome 's hills. and dashed them down in masses and in torrents. the great thought stood alone in Albano that he was hastening on toward the bloody scaffold and [ALF an hour the throne-scaffolding of humanity.

The rolling of the carriages amidst the rush and roar of the rain resembled the thunder whose days were once holy to this heroic city. like the thundering heaven to thte thundering earth. herself directed a little hand-light. which works with irregular strokes. with silence. a wholly new and mighty idea. with little lights. stole through the dark streets. on whose roof a tall. often a single high fir tree. after the old Well might he and could fashion. muffled-up forms. with the whole man. . with streams which mount and grow upward.22 THE GERMAN CLASSICS and with the point made the three wounds in three quarters of the world!" Rain and splendor gushed through the vast. made almost the very stage of the scene irrecognizable to him. that decoration-painter. when there was neither rain nor moonshine. and brought with it. but otherwise. now toward a white statue. greatest and stole down into the glimmering glory. and friendly group soul. broad streets. and patient. many a recollection particularly was a Roman child to him . with an uplooking child on her arm. made its way to the very centre of his so. alighted at last at the Prince di * * Gaspard's father-in-law and old friend. He looked even more and more longingly out of the window dissatisfied with all. now toward the child. blooming virgin. namely. often there stood a long palace with colonnades in the light of the moon. illuminated each. he have discussed. stepped before the Forum. namely in odes. or a statue behind cypresses. occasionally he passed suddenly along by gardens. but the moonlit night. indignant and imworld. often a solitary gray column. Once. to him. Albano. at the of the moon in Forum. and at single columns out of doors there gleamed for him the At last he rose up. They Lauria's * — the pure rain-blue. This alternately. kept his inspiration sacrificing to the unearthly gods of the past round about him. and into broad city-deserts and market-places of the past. the carriage went round the corner of a large house. now so highly exalted.

attached to a Christian church. like murderous cutlasses. hung round the dreams of Man with dark. and the stars gazed steadfastly down. and along through the broad triumphal arch of Septimius Severus. ! ! a fountain gushing into a granite basin. in ' ' ' ' ! crumbling temple-roofs. on the left. gardens and temples. and with trees and a dumb wilderness! The heaped-up ashes out of the And the potsherds of a great world emptied urn of Time around He passed by three temple columns. the blooming death-garland of ivy was gnawing. and with single. with transitory rays. something within him unceasingly cried. which once the very stream of ages drove. dead earths. He went up to this fountain. Sharply stood the rent and ragged arches of Nero's golden house close by. the moon shed down her light like eating silver-water upon the naked . on the right. whose mountain ridges of wall stood high in the moonlight. * Of Jupiter Tonans. but he went along as over a burnt-out sun. crumbling giant lay around torn asunder were the gigantic spokes of the main-wheel. Man.* which flung the earth had drawn down into itself even to the breast. upon the still battlefield over which the winter of time had passed without bringing after it a spring. turning toward the Coliseum. and. in order to survey the plain out of which the thunder months of the earth once arose. upright pillars. with the deep gaps which had been hewn in them by the scythe of Time. stood a chain of columns without their temple. in the middle of the woody wilderness. deep sunken into the sediment of time. at last the triumphal arch of Titus.ROME What 23 a dreary. broad plain. and before it. and living ranunculi still glowed around sunken capitals. He stood on the granite margin. And in addition to all this. and the cold. The fountain murmured babblingly and forever. loftily encompassed with ruins. covered with prostrate capitals of columns. the fiery soul of the world had flown up. . the colonnade of an ancient heathen temple. The Palatine Hill lay full of green gardens.

and. and would fain have dissolved the Coliseum and own shadows Then Albano stretched out his arm into the were giving an embrace and flowing away as the temples and ! air. deeply enveloped in a mantle. almost perpendicular. for your great fatherland has died and gone after you Ah. The stranger ' ' said. Albano " ! ' * My ' ' ! for love. on the insignificant earth. who drew near the fountain without looking round. ' ' ' ' . and held a coal-black." He thought he was speaking German all the time. had I. they clasped each other passionately him. "Amico! ! ! ! ! cried Dian and wept Albano. stared at the count. only done one action worthy of you Then were it sweet to me and legitimate to open my heart by a wound. With three words he related to him the journey. and who " asked the company were. But hardly had he. all dripping. caught a glimpse of the profile of Albano. but there was the lightning of the eyes and every faculty in its old glory. " ye mighty shades. full of old eternity which you have made great. ye are looking down from Heaven. ye. and said. to hasten away to you. who once strove and lived here. he said in Italian: " But it surely cannot be you. eternal and immortal ones But I am not worthy of it " At this moment there came suddenly along up the Via Sacra a tall man. curly. and exclaimed. and to mix earthly blood with the hallowed soil. threw down his hat. absorbed in his fancies. as if he in the arms of a stream. " How does Rome strike you? Dian. till he heard Albano answer in Italian. threw his arms " Albano looked at high into the air. out of the world of graves. he continued " do ognize here absolutely nothing at all.24 THE GERMAN CLASSICS all into their columns. hindhead under the stream of water. "As life does. Albano found the architect merely browner. turning upward. you look old. pleasantly. very " "I recit makes me too soft and too hard. when he started up. fell into an amazement. but scornfully. Dian could not comprehend it at all. seriously." replied Albano. not sadly. . Both gave and received only questions.

" Buried in St. and the all-covering water sunk but slowly. in Rome shed ! a single tear or look round him with consternation. " " Where is ' . and so on. had so often conducted him hither- ward) was yet full of the stream which had swept over the He world. the soft. between the arches of Titus and Severus. said Dian. collapses into a handful of dust. "is the old lake of Curtius the temple of Vesta of Venus. who. as it were. free people. who nowhere stayed more reluctantly than upon such tragic cliffs hanging over. but now the moon was the proper funeral-torch beside the dead Alex' ' : hand and on the left. "Where is how can Capitol ? Buried under the mountain of potsherds Dian. one would wish here an iron heart. the procession to the Dian." he must look upon everlasting beauties on the said Dian. and added hastily: by stand the ten columns of Antonine's temple." said Dian. the senate of the voice of the orators. when he comes out here before this battle-field of time and looks into the charnel-house of the nations? Dian. for fate has an iron hand Dian. a man who loses a father. over beyond there the baths of Titus. there stands yonder nothing but the vault. Albano (being near the teacher who. and of pila Horatia " "And where is the marble all those solitary columns? " said " it lies Forum itself? below ' * ander. almost leaped off from them with a joke. he would rather have seen a sun blazing on its broad banner. in the days of childhood. thirty span deep the great. like the ' ' ! . behind us the Palatine hill." " The artist does not get far with feelings of this kind. into the sea of eternity. Adrian's " Close church. tender brightness of the moon had seemed to him eminently unbecoming for the giant city. those columns belong to the magnificent temple of Peace ? to the temple of Concord of the other No. went on and said when he beheld the Obelisk." kings. " Where. Albano went on the Rostrum the asking. ' ' ' ' right — — — — our feet.ROME 1 ' ' ' ' ' 25 ' Saturn's temple? " asked Albano. Now tell me — " ! They walked up and down the Forum. at a touch. Today. a beloved.

etc. Rome. it was continually enlarging and receding more and more the longer one remained in it. At length they stood . They went up to two children of white marble who held an incense-muscle-shell of yellow marble the children grew by nearness till they were giants." replied Alba no. In the centre shoots up the Obelisk. around which the enormous colonnades run like Corsos." The stream of time drives new wheels. ' " That is just the frightful play of destiny. as they drew near. and from the lofty steps the proud Church of the world. But how wonderfully. the Pantheon. bearing a people of statues. With the passage through the church of St. which again bore upon itself hills. The Princess let herself. looks down upon the earth. the long mountain-chain of Art. curses. be bound to the circle of the men. Peter. the head in Saint Luke's church. by the tie of Art. inwardly filled its and on with churches. kings and popes. is an entire wonder. with the consciousness. the Coliseum. yonder they will still show you the bones of the three men that walked in the fire. " to occupy the heights of the mighty ancients with monks shorn down into slaves.* they climbed silently and speedily over rubbish and torsos of columns. friend! he. and neither gave heed to the mighty emotion ' ' ' ' ' : of the other. said Dian " " * * * And so yonder lies Raphael twice buried. rearing upon a temple toward Heaven. Peter's church. so did he see from afar. right and left an eternal fountain.26 THE GERMAN CLASSICS " Greeks. St. so did he stop before the plain. that. As Albano was more smitten with edifices than with any other work of man. like the world-edifice. . which gave the world blessings. like the Creation. Raphael. * The body in the Pantheon. with holy heart. the knight began the noble course through Immortality. he blended dances with tragedy! Many a thing " said " in Adrian's church is preserved here. had its columns and its rocky wall mounted up itself and flown away from the vision! He entered the magic church. which gradually dismembers itself into new wonders.

Here was the youth's large heart. which is not made ' ' smaller by its Among joyed in to a so grasses and villages. in order that they might behold dry the queen of the world. it then. and. absorbs and annihilates all little cir-. said he right. when they passed became greatest by walking round one column. When the sublime once really appears. after all." Gaspard. resting on four inner towers. the dome Gaspard recommended to defer and cloudless day. many connoisseurs of art. to ' ' whom all images were more clear than abstract ideas. taking everything in a large sense. so mightily possessed with the sublime as in architecture. its very nature. after so long a time. the visiting of the Pantheon. also here lies only in the brain. in every other the giant stands within and in the depths of the soul. is the soul said he to his father. but here he stands out of and close before it. in it. remarked. upon and from the proper throne. around them an over-arched The temple city of four streets in which stood churches. for the whole church stands." tower of the Minster. in Rome. and under the heavens. by He adduced as evidence the cumstantial ornaments.ROME at the 27 main altar and its hundred perpetual lamps. filled. he therefore proposed. in the presence of which was perfectly The sublime latter He also certainly should not feel anything." ' * ' ' ' ' Dian. How simply and grandly the hall * Strasburg. because he was eager to let this follow The ascent of immediately after the impression of Saint Peter's church. there stood a new one before them. In no art. very zealously. and holy giants gazed earnestly down. Rome.* and Nature itself. namely. . What a place! Above them the heaven's arch of the dome. They went thither. the Princess en- silence. in something greater." that " the place for the sublime in his head was complained we very much narrowed by the innumerable volutes and monuments which the temple shut up therein at the same time with itself. Fraischdorfer replied.

from the beautiful into the strong. because a part of hidden by the rubbish.28 THE GERMAN CLASSICS ! Eight yellow columns sustain its brow." Bouverot remarked that the Corinthian columns might be higher. and said that youth. " the " who would fain pigmies. moderns." cried Albano. and that the from strong to beautiful. steps is . endured and concealed the diminutive altars of the later ones. with its heaven-arches soaring and striving upward. always more easily found and better appreciated the sublime than the beautiful. free worldstructure. He said he preferred the larger church of Saint Peter. because he never made a ' young man ripened as the body of the same ripens spirit of the said the Counsellor of Arts. simple. temples! and then you have built enough " * They stepped in. collectively and individually. blockheads. a world in the world And overhead! the eye-socket of the opens ! ! light and of the sky gleamed down. There rose round about them a holy. "we modare. The Counsellor of Arts said that after all he knew nothing more like this fine hemisphere its * The hall of the Pantheon seems too low. Dian (who despised the Counsellor of Arts. Fraischdorf er. without though in practice erns contradiction. f This opening in the roof is twenty-seven feet in diameter. however. give us new Raise the old ones higher out of the rubbish. like nations. except some little Bernini-like turrets? ' ' build any- good figure except in the esthetic hall of judgment as critic. and majestically as the head of the Homeric Jupiter its temple arches itself. we are. never in the exhibition-hall as painter). And round Gaspard questioned Albano about his impressions. thing." " That is why." said the offended Provincial Architect. It is the Rotunda or Pantheon. an Odeum of the tones of the Sphere-music. and the distant rack it of clouds seemed to touch the lofty arch over which shot about them stood nothing but the along! the columns! The temple of all gods temple-bearers. The knight approved. stronger in criticism. he him" How could the self preferred the Pantheon.

as by the blow of a hand out of the ether. but the Princess forced herself upon him. and perhaps. and she took for granted that the saintly halo of the dome must also exalt her form. then a holy radiance filled the temple. and Albano looked around him in an ecstasy How of wonder and delight. broke in two. Sophocles here. as one vanquished. which he had found in Herculaneum molded in ashes. and Albano turned away in disgust and went to the Princess. Women do not suffi- . Shakespeare in Sophocles — stands Angelo 's Rotunda then the lofty cloud. transfigured." she replied. and the ravished Sun. Sophocles! On the next moonlit evening. and he lightly laid his hand upon " " hers. supernatural not through a hazy horizon. might the The knight would first time stand in fire before them. in her eyes. from a too lively wish to share with the noble youth his great moments. He asked her for her opinion about the two temples. just at once. ' ' : 1 1 ! But in Shakespeare. and burned on the porphyry of the pavement. dimly through the dim work. of the bosom of a fair fugitive. Sophocles also is contained. fain have gone around alone with his son. When he answered her Very good . her heart and his own. all '. with its giant-circle. the beautiful and excited countenance of the youth. Shakespeare there but I comprehend and appreciate Sophocles more easily.ROME 29 than a much smaller one. and said with low voice — — ' ' : transfigured at this moment is everything in this sacred place! Raphael's spirit comes forth from his grave in this noontide hour. like the eye of a Venus floating ' ! for she once stood even through her ancient heavens here looked mildly in from the upper deep. like two spirits of the olden time. not. and everything which its reflection touches brightens into godlike splendor!" The Princess looked upon him tenderly. For the illumination through the zenith of Heaven. in fact. howand upon Peter's Church ever. and looked with new eyes into his new countenance. in order that the Coliseum. and said. Gaspard bespoke torches." The knight laughed.

where the streams of centuries and barbarians had stormed in. as well aa other northern constellations. Then the youth gazed down over the cliffs. he looked walls. green crater of the burnt-out volcano. and still. said Albano. against love. by the Via Sacra. cloven forehead looked down pale under the moonlight. full of fragments of rock. Like a smile of giant scorn lies the moonlight down below there upon the green arena. where once stood the Colossus of the Sun-god. and which quenched itself with human blood. which. The star of the north* glimmers low through the windows. Gaspard did not venture to the sixth or highest. What a people *The Pole-star. when it fills and elevates man's mind. where the men used to stand. to the Coliseum. with all his wounds. and the torchlight shot up into the arches of the arcades. hovered in caverns. like departed spirits. Toward the south. and deep in the earth had the noble monster already buried his feet. Temples and three palaces had the giant fed and lined with his limbs. then. upon the round. but Albano and the Princess did. and that a great many more had 1 ' ' ' ' ' ! out livingly into the world. whose lofty. Here curled the snake five times about Christianity. and among the penetrated foliage of the ivy and laurel. which once swallowed nine thousand beasts at once. They stood before the gray rockwhich reared themselves on four colonnades one above another. stood single columns and bare arcades. They stepped in and ascended the mountain. whereas with woman all ideas easily become human beings. from one seat of the spectators to another. and crowds out persons. and the Serpent and the Bear crouch. The lurid glare of the torches into the clefts and caverns. What a world has gone " The Princess answered that " twelve thousand by! prisoners built this theatre. . shuts it. They passed over the Forum. and among the great shadows of the moon. gilding the green shrubbery high overhead.30 THE GERMAN CLASSICS ciently comprehend that an idea. stands lower in the south.

the glimmering city. and nothing too small and threw the Princess into considerable confusion. the Pyramid of Cestius. too. and went to find him he looked . On this holy eminence he saw the constellations. Albano sank away into musing the autumnal wind of the past swept over the stubble. but he. and on the twelve hills dwelt. The Princess went to break a laurel-twig and pluck a blooming wall-flower. l ' Thou mighty One a Coliseum ! is thy flower-pot ' ' ! . and. This to remember the place and time said the him the laurel and the approaching Princess. and spoke of nothing more this evening. at him sharply.SOME bled therein. His whole being seemed newly and painfully moved. as it were. ' ' : hills. and blood. without it. handing ' ' ' ' ! flower. we have no present the past. " * * ' ' 31 we too have building prisoners. as if they were still its kings and judges. removed to a distance: he looked down after his father. as upon graves. and looked sternly into the age. but all became Past. till he. Rome's green ! ! . still flows. . said to thee is nothing too great. with sweat No. she observed that he meant not her. the lofty old spirits. said " but for fortifications. but nature. must bring forth a future.

because the Croesus had sworn to remember them. were very faint. The eternal smile hovering around his temples and thick lips. to be in reality a dangerous trap. — Now. as he not only conducted himself on all occasions in a gruffly moral and unselfish — in regard to morality. or in whatever other terms wit could devise. and they seemed hardly able to see the visible berries for the invisible snares. or a washing of gold sand under a golden rain. from which New Year's presents. Between two attacks of apoplexy he made his will and deposited it with the magistrate. and gratuities were continually falling. impaired the good impression that might otherwise have been made by his nobly cut face and a pair of large hands. however. to be sure. KING [INCE Haslau had been a princely one could remember any event the heir apparent excepted that had been awaited with snch curiosity as the opening of the Van der Kabel will. seven distant living relatives of seven distant deceased relatives of Kabel were cherishing some hope of a legacy. Wherefore the birds of passage proclaimed the man. this human mountain-ash in which they nested and of whose berries they ate. Van der Kabel — — the birth of residence no and his life might have been called the Haslau Croesus described as a pleasure-making mint. the seven relatives were beginners — but likewise treated everymanner still thing so derisively and possessed a heart so full of tricks and surprises that there was no dependence to be placed upon him. benefit performances. and the mocking falsetto voice. No one was especially inclined to trust him. These hopes. Though half dead when [32] .THE OPENING OF THE WILL From the Flegeljahre (1804) By Jean Paul TRANSLATED BY FRANCES H.

Flitte Preacher-at-Early-Service Flachs. ' ' It ran as follows der Kabel. although I have been both a German notary and a Dutch domine. the coldly ironical Police-Inspector Harprecht. Notwithstand: Van — . likewise that he had been in his right mind on the day of the consignment. here in my house in Haslau. and asked for the opening of the will. in Dog day of May 179 Street. the Court. The seven seals which he himself had placed after the Townupon it were found to be intact. they were passed around to all the Councilors and the heirs.Agent Neupeter. appeared with their certificate These were the Consistorial Councilor Glanz." At last the seven heirs at the city hall. chief executor of the will was the officiating Burgomaster in person. Then the Clerk had again drawn up a short record of all this will was opened in God's name and read aloud by the offici- — — ating Burgomaster. And only one of them. answered the smilingly ironical "It was not in their power to determine the Croesus: extent of their collective sympathy in such a loss. the Attorney of the Royal Treasury Knol. Presently the charter and the will were fetched from the from Alsace. Thereby it was made known to them that the charter had really been consigned to the magistrates by the late departed one and confided to them scrinio rei publicce. do draw up my will on this seventh I. the Bookseller Passvogel. the under-executors were the Municipal-Councilors. and Herr They duly and properly requested of the magistrates the charter consigned to the latter by the The late Kabel.THE OPENING OF THE WILL 33 he gave over the certificate to the seven presumptive heirs he said in his old tone of voice that he did not wish this token of his decease to cause dejection to mature men whom he would much rather think of as laughing than as weeping heirs. IV —3 . the Police Inspector. without a great ado of words. the Council-chamber into the Burgomaster's office. Vol. town clerk upon the charter was read aloud to the seven heirs. in order that they might see the privy seal of the city upon and the registry of the consignment written by the them.

for the time being receive nothing. if the annual review of the troops does not happen to take place on the common that day. In accordance with this custom Consistorial Councillor It is the general Glanz. on the anniversary of my death. and afterward clothe themselves with the tent linen. ' ' ! " Second Clause custom for legacies and disinheritances to be counted among the most essential parts of the will. to act as a regular testator and bequeather of property. as can be got out of it. the Preacher- at-Early-Service Flachs. may the eternal sun above us make use of for one of his verdant springs. they can pitch their camp there and have a merry feast off the money. and I leave my pew in the Court church to the Jews of the city. Attorney of the Royal Treasury Knol. Court. this may be taken as the first. or because most of them have themselves enough to bequeath. My will being divided into clauses. Police-Inspector Harprecht. about which notaries must always inquire. I shall attend to by setting aside for three thousand of the city's paupers an equal number of florins so that in the years to come. not for a gloomy winter " The charitable bequests. the Court-bookseller Passvogel and Herr Flitte. not so much because no Trebellianica is due them as the most distant relatives. To all the schoolmasters of our Principality also I bequeath to every man one august d'or. and the To disposal of an inheritance which is desired by many. These with me. I believe that I notary's art to be able. talk about the funeral and such matters is too weak and silly. as with most. Testators are supposed to commence by setting forth the motives which have caused them to make their will. little my great wealth. are my approaching death. as because I know out of their own mouths that they love my insignificant person better than which person I therefore leave them.34 THE GERMAN CLASSICS am still sufficiently familiar with the ing." . That which remains of me.Agent Peter Neupeter. however.

the Attorney of the Royal Treasury and the Bookseller again bent all the elastic steel springs of their faces as if setting a trap. Here the Burgomaster closed the will. can in one half hour's time (to be reckoned from the reading of the Clause) shed one or two tears over me. his departed uncle. all eyes remain dry. infidel. With which he placed his watch. fool. a still young but celebrated throughout all Germany for and printed sermons. From the Alsatian Flitte there escaped an oath accompanied by a slight smack of the tongue. which pointed to half-past eleven. before the other six rivals. on the office-table. The chin of Flachs. the Preacher-at-Early-Service. If. who first. considered himself the one most insulted by such taunts. who should first shed the desired tear over It cannot fairly be assumed that. his oral grew downward into a regular beard. after this my devolve upon and belong to that one of my seven abovenamed relatives.THE OPENING OF THE WILL Seven preternaturally long faces at like 35 man this point started up the Seven-sleepers. The Consistorial Councillor. although with enforced seriousness. and sat himself quietly down in condition order in his capacity of executor to observe. a gress ever met upon it more woe-begone and muddled conthan this one composed of seven . just as it stands. then the house likewise shall fall to the exclusive heir whom I am about to name." of the present house in Dog Street third clause. etc. the earth has stood. and the court must adjudge the house to the first one who wept. and the Burgomaster con- tinued to read. however. together with the whole court. remarked that the was certainly unusual but not illegal. shall. The City Councillors could hear several softly ejaculated obituaries referring to the late Kabel under the name of But the officiating Burgomaster scamp. waved his hand. " Third Clause I make an exception which. as long as the testator. in the presence of an estimable magistrate who shall record the same.

Flitte . — ' ' ' ' of rage. From cursing they had been pulled up too quickly into weeping. heard the latter call out: Beg! and who suddenly got up on his hind legs and begged. or on commission. At first some precious minutes were spent merely in confused wondering and in smiling. the congress had been placed too suddenly in the situation of the dog who.36 THE GERMAN CLASSICS dry provinces assembled together. whom an apprentice is shaving and scraping on a Saturday evening by the light of a shoemaker's candle. but in twenty-six minutes something might happen. as it were. . . which made him look like a sick lark to whom a clyster is being applied with an oiled the house being the head. he was furiously angry at the misuse made of the title Will and quite near to shedding tears — . Every one realized that genuine emotion was not to be thought of. in order to weep. had smeared on his nose it would evidently be some time before the desired effect would take place. The merchant Neupeter asked if it were not an accursed business and a foolish joke on the part of a sensible man. and from which he hoped to brew something. he looked the while like a dog that is slowly licking off the emetic which the Parisian veterinary. he was not the richest among them. showing his teeth. but not for all Strasburg and Alsace besides was he capable of weeping over such a joke. when about to rush angrily at his enemy. pinhead The Attorney of the Royal Treasury Knol screwed up his face like a poor workman. The crafty Bookseller Passvogel at once quietly set about the matter in hand he hastily went over in his mind all the touching things which he was publishing at his own expense . Demet. downpours do not come quite so much on the gallop such sudden baptism of the eyes was out of the question. and he refused to lend himself to it but the thought that a house might swim into his purse on a tear caused him a peculiar irritation of the glands. from Alsace danced around in the Burgomaster's looked laughingly at all the serious faces and swore office.

which needed to repress such holy tokens as tears are so as not thereby to deprive any fellowman of something rather than labo- — — riously to ' ' an ulterior motive. but in secret." he said. he wished to remind him that he could gain just as little by it as if he should blow his nose and try to profit him and declared: bv was well known that more from the eyes through the ductus nasalis than were shed in any church-pew during a funeral sermon. could have immediately drawn up the necessary water. if only the floating-house navigating toward him had not always come between as a much too cheerful spectacle. he stood up and said with dignity: Every one who had read his printed works knew for a certainty that he carried a heart in his breast. This heart has already shed them. at this special moment crocodiles. as easily as the sun before bad weather. and others. and looked around. When therefore he saw himself and the others hanging so long on the drying-line. . He noticed with pleasure that all were sitting there as to the surface with draw them dry as wooden corks. which was already overcast with the most promising sultry clouds caused by domestic and church-troubles. The Consistorial Councillor had learned to know his own nature from New Year's and funeral sermons. as in the latter case it tears flowed staring fixedly. the caruncle. Meanwhile his heart. But the Alsatian assured him he was only laughing in fun and not with serious intentions. The Inspector for his part tried to drive something appropriate into his eyes by holding them wide open and that.THE OPENING OF THE WILL At last the Police-Inspector looked 37 very significantly at In case Monsieur hoped by means of to squeeze the desired drops out of the well-known laughter glands and out of the Meibomian. and was positive that he himself would be the first to be moved if only he started to make a moving address to others. for Kabel was my friend. The Preacher-at-Early-Service Flachs looked like a Jew beggar riding a runaway horse. and acted as a dam. and thus thievishly to cover himself with this window-pane moisture.

charities and the mean clothes and gray hair of the women who formed his congregation at the early-service. The Burgomaster was heartily glad to It was the first time in the prinsee the poor devil get it. however. insect. Flachs was the only one who had a secret He hastily summoned to his mind Kabel 's inspiration. But the conjecture Raben as the ." said Flachs mourn' ' — and looking around. all. elephants. Glanz congratulated Flachs. and his own long coffin. cipality of Haslau that the tears of a school-master and teacher-of-the-church had been metamorphosed. Werther's Sorrows. he had feathered his nest. drew aside. who now extremely regretted his exertions. witches. almost weeping Kabel. " When once beside your loving heart covered with earth my heart too shall mol " " I believe. his eyes brimming over. not like those of the Heliades into light amber. The German texts read: Reben. Under the eyes of the other heirs he had snatched away the prize-house from Glanz. by their separation accentuating their posirest tion on the dry road from that of Flachs on the wet. arising " I but like those of the goddess Freya. —Ed. * will. honored gentlemen. which incased an fully. and himself he was struggling and tormenting himself over the youth clause of the will 1 ' — — just ! three more jerks of the pump- handle and he would have his water and the house. my Kabel for joy at the prospect of the approaching tears of sorrow. continued Glanz." After which he sat down again and let them flow more cheerfully. am weeping. Lazarus with his dogs.38 THE GERMAN CLASSICS stags. and gayly drew his attention to the The fact that perhaps he. a small battlehow pitifully here in the days of his field. since he had quite uselessly talked away half of his appetite. remained intent upon the rest of the Then the reading of it was continued. correct reading may be permitted. ravens* could have wept more easily than the heirs. and also the beheading of various people. vines. so disturbed and enraged were they by Glanz. Glanz. The emotion of Flachs was placed on record and the house in Dog Street was adjudged to him for good and all. had helped to move him. into gold.

in spite of many things to the mature artist seemed absolutely crude. in order to bring out the greatest and best of [39] . KING [CHILLER'S very first productions. and then by combination would unite all in one complete whole. in fact.WILHELM VON HUMBOLDT SCHILLER From AND THE PROCESS OF HIS LECTUAL DEVELOPMENT W. peculiarities that the excellence which It is because of them that. which longing constantly breaks out in his varied philosophical and historical labors and is often hinted at in his letters to me. His genius later betrayed itself in the longing for poetry. von Humboldt (1830) INTELand the Introduction to the Correspondence of Schiller TRANSLATED BY FRANCES H. is most closely wedded. The Robbers and Fiesko gave evidence of remarkable inherent power. He demanded of poetry profundity of thought and forced it to submit to rigid intellectual unity than it had ever had before. This poetic genius. it manifests itself. and by treating every poem in such strictly a way that its subject-matter readily broadened its individuality until it expressed a complete idea. in an intellectuality which by analysis would separate everything into its parts. This he did in a two-fold manner by binding it into a more artistic form. poetic genius showed itself in his In spite of all their which defects in form. to thought. In this lies Schil- ler's peculiar individuality. in height and depth. as for the native atmosphere of his spirit. however. more a more — It is upon these characterizes Schiller as a writer rests. It finally revealed itself in virile power and remain which will long refined purity in those dramas the pride and the renown of the German all its stage.

in a higher and more What must perhaps has ever been the case with any other person. attacks of his Such He never sought for deep subjects of conversation. by the comparison of his productions in their successive sequence. but from each topic he led the discourse up to a general point of view. seemed to him a recreation rather than an activity effort. His intellect was alive with spontaneous and almost tireless activity. He always treated the central idea as an end to be attained in common he always seemed to need the help of the person with whom he was conversing. Never. necessarily have impressed every student of Schiller as most characteristic was the fact that thinking was the very substance of his life. alone. Schiller never allowed him to remain inactive. perhaps. for. not if one happened to catch him in an agreeable mood a difficult matter when anv kind of note was struck with — . he needed a certain amount of time before his completely developed individuality. could reach that point of clearness and definiteness of expression which he demanded of himself. to which his poetic genius was indissolubly united.40 THE GERMAN CLASSICS which he was capable. it would probably be agreeable to the reader of this correspondence if I should attempt briefly to show how my opinion of Schiller's individuality was formed by intercourse with him. * * * On the other hand. This was the chief difference between Schiller's and Herder's mode of conversing. by reminiscences of his conversation. but seemed rather to leave the introduction of a subject to chance. although the latter always felt that the idea was supplied by Schiller . has there been a man who talked with greater charm than Herder. and after a short dialogue one found oneself in the very midst of a mentally stimulating discussion. and was manifested most conspicuously in conversation. for which Schiller appeared to have a natural aptitude. which ceased only when the significant sense than physical infirmity became overpowering. and by a study of the development of his intellect.

. Co. New York von Franz Kruger WILHELM HUMBOLDT .Permission Berlin Photo.


but one felt the lack of an interchange of thought. for which they were so peculiarly adapted. yet. As soon as one subject was exhausted a new one was taken up. Hence. if the conversation was not interrupted by any mishap. in spite of such seeming freedom in the treatment of the subject. he was not prone to bring it to a close until he had reached the goal. as Schiller in his conversation always aimed to add to the domain of thought. Thus speech flowed on uninterruptedly with a limpidness which still left something remaining for one 's own imaginaand yet with a chiaroscuro which did not prevent tion. with a light and delicate touch he utilized any sideissue which presented itself. the Schiller always held with final end was not lost sight of. in general. so. he held this effort under control. one could even talk oneself. One had listened. and this was the reason why his conversation was peculiarly rich in words that are so Schiller's speech evidently the inspiration of the moment. and he knew absolutely no other method of working. intellectual conquests. All the extraordinary qualities of this justly admired man seemed to gain double power in conversation. however. but his mind with acumen and precision.SCHILLER 41 which he was in harmony. although really belonging only to the individual. He gave himself up to mere reading late in the evening His days were occupied with various labors or with specific preparaonly. His letters demonstrate these traits very perceptibly. The thought blossomed forth in expression with a grace and dignity which appeared to proceed from the subject alone. and soared above his subject in perfect liberty. one from definitely grasping the thought. Nothing was gained by making objections which would only have served as a hindrance. firmness the thread which was bound to lead thither. . and during his frequently sleepless nights. and. was not really beautiful. it may that his intellectual activity was always characterbe said And new ground ized by an intense spontaneity. to make new constantly strove.

is depicted. It is indeed remarkable at its from what a small stock of material and how. which. traveled only in certain districts. the beautiful strophe in The Diver in which this confusing tumult of waters. I say. when . Anything that might prove to be of use. fixed itself firmly in his memory. while Switzerland. he never neglected to prepare himself for every subject by exhaustive reading. Any one who has ever stood by the Falls of the Rhine will involunin Even Germany he had tarily recall. even if discovered accidentally. that so captivates the eye. that he had so little sympathy with its efforts of a lower order. for him to see in this material anything more than mere stuff to be worked up. at the sight. he knew nothing about from experience. and which has such a fascination for those who are familiar with it that they must be constantly on their guard lest it cause them to neglect other more definite duties such studying. in spite of wanting the means by which such material is procured by others. his intellect being thus kept at high tension by work and research. But whatever Schiller did acquire from his own experience he grasped with a clearness which also brought distinctly before him what he learned from the description of others. Mere studying undertaken with no immediate end in view save that of acquiring knowledge.42 THE GERMAN CLASSICS tory studies in connection with them. he had never seen. nor did he esteem it — proper value. with constant liveliness. It was only because he placed more value upon the higher activity of the intellect. which creates independently out of its own depths. Besides. and yet no personal view of these rapids had served as the basis for Schiller's description. elaborated . fairly startles us by the intuitive truthfulness of genius for one can give no other name to that which originates without (Weltanschauung). outside aid. Knowledge seemed to him too material. and his tirelessly-working imagination. Schiller obtained his comprehensive theory of life once grasped. which. and the forces of the intellect too noble. of which his William Tell contains such vivid descriptions.

of an invisible force created purely by the intellect and vanishing away when brought into contact with reality. although his knowledge of it was gained exclusively from translations. moreover. as is evident in the lines which are taken from his poem The Artists ject — "Awed by the Furies' chorus dread Murder draws down upon its head The doom of death from their wild song.SCHILLER now this 43 now filled source. * * * The Cranes of Ibycus and the Festival of Victory wear the colors of antiquity with all the purity and fidelity which could be expected from a modern poet. In a manner quite similar he made the spirit of Greek poetry his own. in these works. The two poems. As many as eight years before the time when this sub- assumed the ballad form within his mind it had floated before his vision. In this connection he spared himself no pains. every particular in the whole it . has quite absorbed the spirit of the ancient world he moves about in it with freedom. and thus in the them most beautiful and most . that part of the material collected from every out the deficiencies of such second-hand information. He preferred translations which disclaimed any particular merit in themselves. permitted an exposition in complete harmony with the spirit of antiquity the latter had all the . is borrowed immediately from the ancient world. belonged essentially to the sphere of ideas which occupied Schiller so intensely." This idea. requisites for bringing narrative and strength. however. The Cranes of Ibycus permitted a thoroughly epic development what made the subject of intrinsic value to the poet was the idea which sprung . The into bold relief in all its purity Consequently. in all its parts. creates a new form of poetry which. especially the appearance and the song of Eumenides. The poet. human power of artistic representation upon the This power of poetry. are in striking contrast with each other. and they wear est consideration spirited manner. and his highwas for the literal classical paraphrases. from it of the soul. breathes only such a spirit.

Belief in the invisible force inherent in man. more distinct. that no portion of its quiet grandeur is lost. The Festival of Victory is of a lyric. that there must be an inward mystic harmony it and the force which orders and governs the entire universe (for all truth can only be a reflection of the eternal primal Truth). both in the matter of rhyme and the length of the metre. which is sublime and to between deeply true. The earlier poems of Schiller are also rich in particular traits borrowed from the poems of the ancients. which are among the most peculiar poetic productions that Schiller has given us. in the opinion. Let me refer in this connection to " The his description of death from The Artists gentle bow of necessity which so beautifully recalls the gentle ' ' — — darts of Homer. found in the original. the transfer of the adjective from darts to bow gives to the thought a more tender and a deeper significance. where. The poem as a whole is clearly stamped with a higher. however. Confidence in the intellectual power of man heightened poetic form is expressed in the distichs entitled Columbus. We see the same thought expressed in the same kind of metaphor in the bold but beautiful expression which occurs in the letters from Raphael to Julius in the magazine.44 THE GERMAN CLASSICS chorus as employed by iEschylus is so artistically interwoven with the modern poetic form. of a contemplative nature. and into them he has often introduced a higher significance than is . with which he followed up every intellectual persistence task until it was satisfactorily completed. In this work the poet was able indeed was com- — pelled not lie — to lend from his own store an element which did within the sphere of ideas and the sentiments of antiquity. but everything else follows the spirit of the Homeric poem with as great purity as it does in the Cranes of Ibycus. The Thalia — . was a characteristic feature of It harmonized also with the Schiller's way of thinking. spirituality than is usual with the ancient singers and it is in this particular that it manifests its most conspicuous beauties.

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To safeguard them upon this height. addressed to the poet himself. inspired with a striving for the ideal. productions. Of him it can truthfully be said that matters which bordered upon the common or even upon the ordinary. To assign to poetry. from whom he requires not merely genius and talent isolated. in their activity. This was true even of his minor . was really Schiller's aim. mistaking its dignity. it must be not a mere momentary exaltation. they were represented to be the medium by means of which he first awakens to the consciousness of that nature. therefore. the lofty and serious place of which I have spoken above. to save them from being desecrated by every paltry and belittling view. among human endeavors. Both of them were thus placed upon the height from which they really originate. regard it ment and embellishment of life only as a trifling adornor else ask an immediate . to defend it from the petty point of view of those who. reaching out beyond the finite. to rescue them from every sentiment which did not spring from their purity. mistaking its peculiar character. and appeared to him as his true life-mission determined for him by the original tendency of his nature. but a mood which takes possession of the entire soul and is in harmony with the sublimity of his vocation. " Before he undertakes to influence the among and most his contemporaries he should make it his first important business to elevate his own self to the " * * * To no one does purest and noblest ideal of humanity. as it were. with uniform force. which dwells within him. but an integral of character. thoughts to his mode of feeling and his life and that in his compositions he was ever. His first and most urgent demands are. and the pedantic attitude of those who. never had the slightest hold upon him that he transferred completely the high and noble views which filled his .SCHILLER " 45 When Columbus made * * * the risky wager with an untrav- eledsea." noble in part best Art and poetry were directly joined to what was most man. Schiller apply this demand more rigorously than to himself.

however. he grasped with eagerness and firmness. a figure as wonderful as it was appealing. before he could be left to Schiller has enlarged upon this theme on many occasions. as one cannot repeat too often. and.46 THE GERMAN CLASSICS effect moral and teaching from is it — this. to the harmony which rang out to him from the depths of the language. in fact every variety of poetry derived directly from contemplation and feeling. Whatever mythology offered here as kindred material. Schiller in his poetry gave utterance individual manner. replaced this plan. It was long a cherished plan with Schiller to treat in epic form the earliest Attic civilization resulting from foreign immigration. madic civilization in general. however to whatever — mysterious effect of which he so cleverly perceived and knew how to use so masterfully. both in prose and verse. in fact. are found in Schiller in countless and in whole poems. as he so beauti- fully expresses it. * * * But the most remarkable evidence of the consummate genius of the poet single passages . The deeper and truer trend of * * * highly developed sensibility truths of nature. upon the transition from the nolife to the agricultural. * * * favorite idea which often engaged Schiller's attention German resides in his which keeps him closer to the the A was the need of educating the crude natural understood him — through man — as he art. * * * The merely emotional. in his inclination to live in the world of ideas and of emotions dependent upon them. upon the covenant established in naive faith with pious Mother Earth. in everything which is connected therewith. he made of Demeter. The Elensinian Festival. His imagination dwelt by preference upon the beginnings of attain culture through reason. the chief personage in the group of agricultural deities. which was never executed. deeply rooted in the German habit of own his German nature had implanted in him. Faithfully following the traces of fable. the his — in thought and feeling. the simply descriptive. by uniting in her breast human feelings with divine. the fervid.

runs through the varied experiences in the life of man and of society for it expresses the feelings which arise in each of them. can it be said so truthfully that he had thrown away the fear of that which was earthly ' ' and had escaped out of the narrow gloomy that he life into the realm of the ideal. in changing metre. in any language. to the tones of the bell. in the guise of a lyric. had lived surrounded only by the most exalted ideas and the most brilliant visions which it is possible for a mortal to appropriate and to create. while it lasted." And it may be observed. as he so inimitably describes it in one of the letters in this collection. For long years ahead he would have been able to enjoy the happiness. the casting and completing of which the poem accompanies throughout in all its various stages. yet. that so runs through the scale of all that is deepest in human its feelings. of vivacity where a few touches whole. corresponds with the shadowy visions of the imagination. . Of no one else. he worked exclusively and uninterruptedly in the realm of ideas and fancy. and the two series thus formed run parallel with each other to the same end. I know of no poem. in of the Bell. and the constantly increasing activity of his mind would never have allowed him time for stopping. though he would undoubtedly have * * * been able to perform an endless amount of additional work. yes. and. written about a plan for an idyl. which. But the poetic clearness is enhanced by the fact that a subject which is portrayed as actually existing. depicts life in important events and epochs as if in an epic poem con- fined within natural limits. His scope was so unlimited that he would never have been able to find a goal. perhaps.SCHILLER is 47 seen in The Song full descriptions represent a whole picture. and ever adapts the . the rapture. Schiller was snatched from the world in the full maturity of his intellectual power. which shows so wide a poetic world in so small a compass. One who thus departs from earth cannot be regarded as otherwise than happy. His life ended indeed before the customary limit had been reached. the bliss of his occupation as a poet. in closing. symbolically.

and to seek uniformity based upon practical needs. proclaiming the vital connection between the soul of a whole nation and its literature. constitute the most important factor in a great revolt against regulated social institutions.THE EARLY ROMANTIC SCHOOL By James Taft Hatfield. the centre of German influence. the hands of Louis XIV. of France and his successors had been accompanied by a " standardizing " of human affairs which favored practical efficiency and the easier running of the social machine. and preaching a religion of the feelings rather than — — [48] . Rousseau's revolutionary protests against inequality and artificiality — particularly his startling treatise On the Origin and Foundations of Inequality among Men (1754) and his fervent preaching of the everlasting superiority of the heart to the head. The French became sovereign arbiters of taste and form. that boisterous forerunner of Romanticism. but which was far from helpful to the self-expression of distinctly-marked individuals. Professor of the German Language and Literature. a convenient name for a period in which there was a noticeable attempt to face the obvious. to the Germany. Ph. yet so unlike it that even Schlegel compared its most typical representatives to the biblical herd of swine which staminto oblivion. which " Storm and Stress " movement in led. but their canons of art were far from nature and the free impulses of mankind. The particular development of this spirit of clarity in Berlin. l ' external facts of life in a clear-eyed and The centralizing of political power in courageous way. at length. lay in the tendency to challenge all historic continuity. Northwestern University j^ _(&grman^HE latter half of the eighteenth century has d^^^mbt (glassies jl wjjfi been styled the Age of Enlightenment. peded Herder.D.

it is enough to recall here that he was already professor of philosophy at Jena when the Schlegel brothers 4 Vol. and : Novalis. Five names embody about all that was most significant in the earlier movement Fichte. ' ' ' ' its tion that genius outranks general laws. The birth of the Romantic School can be pretty definitely set at about 1796. Goetz von Berlichingen. of the authority of all artistic rules and standards and Burger." Immanuel ting the control of an artificial Kant. upset. asserting the right of the common man to be the only arbiter of literary values. IV — . whose deep and dynamic thinking led to a revolution comparable to a cosmic upheaval in the geological world. joined their splendid forces highest powers to the building up of and devoted their a comprehensive esthetic philosophy. " classicism.THE EARLY ROMANTIC SCHOOL a gospel of ' ' ' ' 49 enlightenment young Goethe. Tieck. were. the brothers Friedrich and Wilhelm Schlegel. and imagination figures taking poetic every-day rules its abundance of . each in his own way. by his daring and untrammeled Shakespearian play. compelled his generation to discover a vast new moral system utterly disconcerting to the shallow complacency of " those who had no sense of higher values than practical ' ' efficiency. now matured and a deep-going classical and philosophical Goethe and discipline. When. their part in the romance. . fully seasoned by Schiller. in 1794. The discussion of Fichte belonging to another division of this work. its defense of the ' ' call ' ' of the asser- individual as outweighing the whole social code. its cradle was in the quaint university town of Jena. announced in Werther. at that time the home of Schiller and his literary-esthetic enterprises. the era was fully come for new constructive efforts on German soil. Incalculably potent was the ferment liberated by Goethe's Wilhelm Meister (1795its attacking the problem of life from the emo1796) — tional and esthetic side . and only a few miles away from Goethe in Weimar. and by his open defiance.

at this period. Madame de Stael called them criticism. in the later discourses. Fichte made a stirring appeal to young as being alone able to perceive the meaning men. he was assimilating. To take part in the contagion of these ideas. sons in a most respectable Lutheran parsonage in North Germany. Friedrich von Schlegel (1772-1829). the younger of the two. of science and poetry. It is generally asserted that they were lacking in essential virility and stamina. " ancient crudities " were to be reverenced as deeper perwas to be accounted a fine literature ceptions of truth ' ' ' ' . and that it was while there that he published his Doctrine of Science. both had shown enormous hunger for cultural information. there can be no question whatthe fathers of modern ever. He had a restless and unsettled youth." a title which has not been challenged by the ' ' best authorities of our time. announcing the annihilation of physical values. the philosophical systems of . he determined to make classical antiquity his life-work while mastering the body of ancient literature. frivolous thing. as to the brilliancy of their acquisitions. is not easy or necessary to separate. the From their early days. His first notable publication was an esthetic-philosophic essay.50 THE GERMAN CLASSICS their made there in 1796. especially. as activities of their agile minds. with much the same sort of eagerness. mostly spent in studies. the charter of independence of the Eomantic School. both had been voracious in exploiting the great libraries within their reach. there settled It in Jena in 1796 the two phenomenal Schlegel brothers. their fineness of appreciation. the inner spirit as that alembic in which all objects are produced. is counted to be the keener and more original mind. Concerning the ample Study of Greek Poetry. after various disappointments. and their wit. style of Schiller's . proclaiming the soul as above home things perceived. With almost insolent freshness Fichte asserted a re-valuation of all values: what had been " enlightenment " was now to be called shallowness. Kant and Fichte.

he moved to Berlin. Wilhelm. and exhibited throughout the discussion a remarkable mastery of the whole field of Just at this time he removed to Jena classical literature. particularly that one which gave In 1797 a new and vital characterization of Lessing. more particularly. the last volume appearing in " collect all Its aim was to 1800. to join his older brother. which the brilliant intellectual atmosphere of the Berlin salons. and in this way established the external and visible body of the Romantic School. a very favorite model for the form of Romantic doche had said when younger. these reviews became at once noticeable for their depth and vigorous originality. more notably being responsible for the epigrammatic Fragments. I can talk daggers. though some were contributed by Wilhelm Schlegel. in their detached brevity and irresponsibility. and he wrote the greater part of these. very large of the journal was written by the two brothers. where he gathered a group about was him. who was connected with Schiller's monthly The Hours and his annual Almanac of the Muses. survived for three years. one of Schiller's most annoying rivals in literary journalism. In Berlin he published in 1798 the first volume of the AthencBum. circle at Jena. rays of human culture into one focus. Friedpart of the party of ' ' ' ' A rich furnishing the most aggressive contributions. which became." and. by his admirable wife ' ' ' ' . to confute the claim that the earlier ages of enlightenment human development were poor and unworthy of respect on the part of the closing eighteenth century. trine. that journal which in a unique way represents It the pure Romantic ideal at its actual fountain-head. did much In 1799 both he and Tieck joined the Romantic to promote.THE EARLY ROMANTIC SCHOOL He 51 found in the Greeks of the age of Sophocles the ideal of a fully developed humanity. including Tieck. with their wealth of gifted and cultured women. By a strange condition of things Friedrich actively engaged at the moment in writing polemic reviews for the organs of Reichardt.

none sentences which go deep below the surface The French better remembered. These Orphic-apocalyptic sentences are a sort of foundation for a new Romantic bible." of phrase seems to be at times its own excuse for sicality being. vation. The sheer whimtianity. as in an explanation of certain elegiac poems as " the sensation of misery in the contemplation of the silli" but there ness of the relations of banality to craziness. Protestantism is sentimental. sociology and society. than the dictum. happy marriages are related to love. Revolution. . and not a few very . the Copernicus of Philosophy. as a correct poem to an improvised song. " " Plato's philosophy is a " " So-called worthy preface to the religion of the future.52 Caroline. THE GERMAN CLASSICS by Schleiermacher. and Novalis." In the AthencEum both brothers give splendid testimony to their astonishing and epoch-making gift in transferring classical and Romance metrical forms into elegant. The root of this form lies in French thinking and expression especially — the short deliverances of Chamfort. mathematics and esthetics. the epigrammatist of the French Revolution. they show a mixture and interpenetration of different spheres of thought and obserclassic antiquity. not to mention terza rima. and Goethe's are many — ' ' Wilhehn Meister are the greatest symptoms of our age. They are absolutely disconnected. literature and the theatre are largely represented in their scope. philosophy and natural science. idiomatic give affectionate attention to the insinuof elegiac verse. ottava rima. Fichte's Doctrine of Science. with an unexpected deference to the appraisals of Their range is unlimited: philosophy and psychology. perhaps. Friedrich Schlegel's epigrammatic wit is the direct precursor of Heine 's clever conceits in prose one is instantly all : reminded of him by such Athenaum-fragments as " Kant." "In genuine prose all words " " Catholicism is naive Chrisin should be ' ' printed italics. German they notable sonnets. the Spanish gloss. and secure charming effects ating beauty in some of the most alien Greek forms.

At tents and tendency of the journal is drawn." Schleiermacher admired in which it that highest wisdom and prof oundest religion i * ' ' The preaching of " religion. will. but a feeble. in all its completeness. of this is thoroughly typical of the spirit of the Romantic school. the " faked " Literary Announcements are as daring as any attempts of American newspaper humor. and refuse to be swayed by according what is usual and proper. There is a never-ending esthetic coquetry with the flesh. she pointed him to Shame. tiresome performance. Schleiermacher. and pornographic mysticism. then Shame's favors Into the world at length a dead babe came " Lucinda " was its name. When the sum of the con- literary criticisms of the Athenceum are characteristically free and aggressive. should stand as the classic in this supreme unsavory divine. and it is by no means surprising that Friedrich's first book. . ship.THE EARLY ROMANTIC SCHOOL The 53 the end of the second volume. quite deserving the saucy epigram on which it it is was pilloried by the wit of the time: Pedantry once of Fancy begged the dole Of one brief kiss." and the "holy fire of divine enjoyment" makes an unedifying " The holiest thing in any human being is his melange: " " You do all his own own his own lead people to yield to the rhythm of fellowship and friendIn more prosaic and to disturb no harmony of love. it is a strange mixture of discriminating philosophy. particularly in the frequent sneers at the flat " homely " poetry of sandy North Ger- many. quite divorced from Laws or Things. Greek sensuousness. with a All serious defense of some very Greek practices indeed. exalted this of the Flesh as " a paean of Love. to your own mind. the novel Lucinda (1799). power. impotent and wanton." " womanliness. devoted Christianity. absolutely without structure. the teaching was the surrender to momentary feelings. mind. — stole. The only morality is full Humanity ' Nature alone is upshot of its ' ' ' ' ' . ' ' ' ' diction. He." That excellent document of the Rights field.

Friedrich's next most important move was to Paris (1802). or ought not and posterity to do something effective in the outer world has fully supported this inquiry. is ' ' . where he entered with great eagerness into the work of re-discovering the medieval Lower Rhenish School of religious art and Gothic architecture. As one is told that the ' ' ' ' " boots nothing but Gothic perversity. and sound health alone is worthy of " " Let the discourse of " be love: love. Society is which is seriously put to be developed only by wit. and attempted Here he began his enthusiastic studies another journal. it is true." counsels Julius. which proved to have an important influence on the development of modern This is eminently true of his work On the Lanphilology. In 1808 he. and the blissful The divine art of being indolent bosom of half -conscious self-forgetfulness " naturally lead to practical ethics. set forth with an almost antique ' ' — — ' ' simplicity. the right to indolence is that which really makes the discrimination between choice and common beings. to raise the question as to whether the hero ought not to have some trace of the chivalrous about him. of the Sanskrit language and literature." Man is by a serious beast one must labor to counteract this nature shameful tendency. in fact. Schleiermacher ventured. not more chastened than a Roman elegy which is certainly not very much and the skirmishes of inclination are. who years before this time had left her home and family to become his partner for life). entered the Roman Catholic church. where he gave lectures on philosophy. ' ' 1 ' most perfect life is but a pure vegetation. into comparison with God Almighty. and Wisdom of the Indians (1808).54 THE GERMAN CLASSICS worthy of honor. bold and free. In 1804 he guage removed to Cologne. the interests of which engaged much of his He lived most of energies for the remainder of his life. with his wife Dorothea (the daughter of Moses Mendelssohn. to the thesis that the empty. and is the determining principle of nobility. restless exertion of men in ' ' — . and general naught but ennui to ourselves and others.

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lt artists form a higher caste. and possessed in a far higher degree ' ' ' ' than Friedrich the art of steering his course smoothly through life. countenances are most interesting to me in which Nature seems to have indicated a great design without taking time to carry it out. are interesting in view of the fact that Wilhelm Schlegel became the actual creator of this literary form among the Germans. and serene nature. even in their way of living. but something of his spirit of adventure into new literary fields was doubtless caught .THE EARLY ROMANTIC SCHOOL • 55 the time in Vienna. He died in 1829 in Dresden. Friedrich Schlegel's philosophy of life was based upon the theory of supremacy of the artist." Poetry and philosophy formed ' ' had gone ' ' ' ' " thought an inseparable unit. though seldom together like Castor and Pollux. a superior type of the " species. and his acquaintance there with the poet Burger. Wilhelm. that early apostle of revolt from a formal literature." especially for the common man as a mere machine of On performances he set no great store Those duty. dignified. Of very great significance in his training were his university years at Gottingen." that is to say. the potency of poetry. whither he to deliver a course of lectures. Burger's attempts at naturalizing the sonnet. partly engaged in the literary service of the Austrian government. whose own life had become more and more discredited and was destined to go out in wretchedness and ignominy the latter 's fecundating activities had never been allowed full scope. from other people. for instance. by the younger man. forever joined. Schlegel's own pursuits as a ." His interest " is in Humanity. with its incidental corollaries of disregard for the Kantian ideal of Duty. they should separate themselves. with a corresponding contempt for commonness." in his — ' ' ' ' : known August Wilhelm von Schlegel (1767-1845). and aversion to all Puritanism and Protestantism. There is no great world but that of artists. he declared in the Athenceum. more simply as was the more balanced. partly in lecturing on history and literature.

to a review of his own profound ing. but the Muse of much of his most important work. The New Thalia. Nothing came of because of Schlegel's intimate relations to this. Schiller had published. acquainted with one of the most gifted women which Ger- has ever produced. at the time a young widow in the home of her father. to Germany. where conditions of living were most agreeable. Then came a call which was both congenial and honorable. the establishing of a literary journal which should be the final dictator and literary criticism throughout the Germanspeaking world. the daughter of the Gottingen professor Michaelis. and in the same year of taste In 1796 Schiller invited occurred the death of Burger. chiefly Burger at the time. finding in it the opportunity to marry Caroline. not long before.56 THE GERMAN CLASSICS student were prevailingly in the field of Hellenism. by an unknown young man. addressed himself to his crowning enterprise. The Artists. He philosophical poem. whom he at once sought to secure as a regular contributor to his literary journal. In 1794 the plan for The Hours was realized under favorable auspices. and destined to become not only his wife. Wilhelm to become one of the regular staff of The Hours. but where a suitable stimulus to the inborn life of his mind was lackaccordingly gave up this position and returned. Schiller 's attention had been drawn. which did so much to put that poet out of serious consideration for the In the meantime Schiller had remainder of his days. his annihilatory review of Burger's poems. with whom he settled in Jena in July of that year. Caroline. After finishing his university studies. years before. Wilhelm was for a while private tutor in a wealthy family at Amsterdam. his influence was especially potent in giving a philological character to much In Gottingen he became of the work of the Romanticists. This office she performed until the time of their unfortunate many separation. with little but hopes. His first contribution to The Hours . and this invitation Schlegel accepted. in which his acquisitions were astounding.

and clears the field for coming litein the work sense of all poetical. and. an individuality and . is Wilresources. they conducted the whole significant enterprise out of their own The opening essay. Wilhelm's brother Friedrich had remained but a year with him in Jena. His cultural acquisitions. In all his many criticisms of literature there are charm. and elegance. During the years of his residence at Jena (which continued until 1801) Schlegel. which was accompanied by translations which were clearly the most distinguished in that field which the German language had ever been able to offer. and which have. Athenceum he presents a seasoned. One feels that Wilhelm overhauls the whole business of criticism. Although separated from his brother. wider philosophy of grammar and style. before his removal to Berlin and his establishment of the Athenceum.THE EARLY ROMANTIC SCHOOL 57 was a masterful and extended treatise on Dante. published the first eight volumes of those renderings of Shakespeare's plays into German which doubtless stand at the very summit of the art of transferring a poet to an alien region. with the incalculable assistance of his wife. the lightest breath and aroma of an elusive work of art. Especially telling ' ' ' ' ness. as contrasted with a narrow rary ideals. for at this time he was by far the helm's. and his judgment more trustworthy. and properly. served to make the Bard of Avon as truly a fellow-citizen of the Germans as of the Britons. tone. is his demolition of Klop" " to which he stock's violent opposes a far Northernism. is blandly defended. The Languages. in effect. The universality German clumsiof poetry. for the latter 's Almanac of the Muses. better versed in philological and literary matters. his tremendous spoils of reading. wit. and a joyous abandon is urged as something better than the meticulous anxiety of chauvinistic partisanism. Schlegel also furnished elaborated poems. in actual fact. many-sided phonetic and musical values: rhythm. Wilhelm's part in the conduct of the journal was almost as important as Friedrich 's. color. were In all his greater. somewhat in Schiller's grand style.

Shakes" the peare's universality had already been regarded as central point of romantic art. displays and more secure composure. for complete absorption and re-creation. all their parts . and are still reckoned the crowning achievement of his career. — as a painting. carry out Herder's demand freedom in the reviewer. and his still useful generalization regards antique art as typified by a as limited." As Romanticist. Apart from objects the clarity and smoothness of these Vienna discourses. he became attached to the household of Madame de Stael. His translations. In 1804. brother. their lasting merit lies in their searching observation of the import of dramatic works from their inner soul. In the first volume of the Athenceum. which embraces many gling its subjects and looks out into the widest vistas. and in — a most discriminating sense of the relation of to an organic whole. if less penetrating than his a far more genial breadth and humanity. it was likewise incum- bent upon him to demonstrate in what respects the classic drama differed from the independently developed modern play. and traversed Europe with her. sequent translations of Calderon's plays (1803-1809) and of Romance lyrics served to naturalize a large treasure of southern poetry upon German soil. simple. It is through this association that she was enabled to In 1808 he dewrite her brilliant work. it was Schlegel 's office to portray the independent development of the modern English stage. and to defend Shakespeare against the familiar accusations of barbaric crudity and formlessness. perhaps the most significant of these is his discourse on Shakespeare. In surveying the field. clear. after having separated from his wife. On Germany. more masterly than those of Friedrich. where for three sucHis subcessive winters he lectured on art and literature. In 1801 Schlegel went to Berlin. livered a series of lectures on dramatic art and literature in Vienna. which enjoyed enormous popularity.58 THE GERMAN CLASSICS # who. and perfected whereas romantic art delights in minwork of sculpture.

and occupied in the main with purely literary production. Heine's later mood is a very different matter) an inspiration amounting The brilliant young student discovered to captivation. but in the course of which he assimilated at first hand the chief modern languages of culture.THE EARLY ROMANTIC SCHOOL 59 In 1818 Schlegel accepted a professorship at the University of Bonn. His birth was in a middle-class family of Berlin. and elegance responded in full measure to the hitherto unsatisfied crav- ings of his own nature. finish. When all discount has been made on the side of a lack of specific gravity in Wilhelm Schlegel 's character. during which he cannot be said to have distinguished himself by any triumph in the field of formal studies. without any . young Heinrich Heine. and extracted large and important treasures which may still be reckoned among mankind's valued resources. it is only just to assert that throughout his long and prolific life he wrought with incalculable effect upon the civilization of first modern Europe as is a humanizer of the importance. Although Heine had become a very altered person at the time of writing his Romantic School (1836). in which place he exercised an incalculable influence upon one of the rising stars of German literature. and offers a vivid impression of his living personality. as had younger brother. full sixty years a most prolific writer. who derived from him (if we may judge from his own testimony at the time. here a stimulating leader whose wit. In these last decades of his his life Schlegel turned. A full university training at Halle. to the inviting field of Sanskrit litera- ture and philology. Gottingen and Erlangen was accorded him. this book throws a scintillating illumination upon certain sides of Schlegel 's temperament. it is not strange that he came to be regarded as the poetic mouthpiece of the school. Ludwig Tieck (1773-1853) of the reckoned by many students Romantic period to be the best and most lasting For precipitate which the entire movement has to show.

Significant was his early rehabilitation of popular folk-tales and chapbooks. With the story the postulate that song is the true language is sprinkled with lyrics at every turn. The stuff was that of one of the prose chivalry-stories of the middle ages. where the naive and the ironic lie side by side. with rainbow-glows of the bliss of romantic love. confession. chief of all exponents of rationalism. and turned to rather banal hack-writing for the publisher Nicolai. The tone of Tieck's narrative is childlike and naive. as in The Wonderful Love-Story of Beautiful Mage- lone and Count Peter of Provence (1797). At an early stage in his growth he discovered and fed full upon Shakespeare. who at once adopted Tieck as a Even more after their own hearts was the ally. somewhat influenced by Wilhelm Meister. a joy of which our natures are capable only in their purest and most rejoicing natural : . and where the pompous seriousness of cer- tain complacent standards is neatly excoriated. him more closely to the Schlegels than to Novalis. seeking the remote among strange hazards by land and sea. Such publications as the two mentioned were hailed with by the Schlegels. Puss in Boots (1797). of life. and a somewhat sugary admixture of the spirit of the Minnelied. corrosive Berlin wit was a His cool irony associated large part of his endowment.60 THE GERMAN CLASSICS professional guidance. of " Devout the Religion of Art (or the Art of Religion) worship is the highest and purest joy in Art. is delicious in its bizarre ragout of satirical extravaganzas. for the instantaneous. His absurd play-within-aplay. is into The whole adventure sensations. a vibrant long novel. glimpses of the poetry and symbolism of Catholic tradition. As a university student he also fell in love with the homely lore of German folk-poetry. with his life-and-death consecrations. Franz Sternbald's Wanderings (1798). with plenty of refined and delicate sensuousness. In 1794 he came back to Berlin. full of marvels. the realm of dreams and vague Tieck must have been liberally baptized with Spreewater.

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the Rhine. a rendering which went far beyond any mere literalness of text. Having already formed a personal acquaintance with Friedrich Schlegel in Berlin. notably the tragedy Life . was the translation of Don Quixote (1799-1801). and Italy. defense of German Art. the delicacy somewhat vague outlines of the story one may be reminded. parody a new movement A Tieck's " silly plunge into medieval naivete. " chief message. the Schlegels.THE EARLY ROMANTIC SCHOOL exalted hours. a sustained thrill. a triumph over just those subtle difficulties which are well-nigh insurmountable. of The Marble Faun. and continued to produce works in the spirit a productive school. In the unworldliness. and the and discourses. however. Tieck moved to Jena in 1799. oldGerman and catholicizing tendencies. a pupil of Albrecht Diirer." was coined to German art toward the medieval. and Novalis. came into very close relations with Fichte. in order to deepen his artistic nature. with their pre-Raphaelite. This novel has been dwelt upon because of ence upon German painting and religion. and the style is rhythmic. and reproduced the very tone and aura of its original. as compared with that of the is its Italian Renaissance. Its lyrics. The psy- chology of the novel is by no means always true to the spirit of the sixteenth century. In 1803 he published a graceful little volume of typical of the group. at times." 61 Sternbald. religious spirit. and demanded a more vigorous. makes a roving journey to the Low Countries. this period." Overbeck and Cornelius in Rome. in fact a good part of the story reflects aristocratic French chateau-life in the The intensities of romantic friendeighteenth century. It is this book which Heine had in mind when he ridiculed new verb. its direct influ- in sternbaldisieren. became the leaders of Goethe scourged it for its mysticreligious aspirations. ' ' " Genoveva and Death of Saint His most splendid literary feat at (1800). ship give though the action is continually interrupted by episodes. of sensibility. cheerful and progressive outlook for German painting.

is a pure epitome of the movement. The consecration and the poet's dream." but it was this same little — charm book which first gave young Jakob Grimm the wish to become acquainted with these poets in their original form. the piece is — The light that never was on sea or land. renewed from the middle high-German period. That eminently "Romantic" play. and the high-water mark of Tieck's apostleship and service. her father. derived from a familiar medieval chap-book. considering a religion of erotics hardly firm enough ground to support an entire philosophy of living. and introduces the action by the command: " magic night Holding every sense in thrall. ironic mockery surrenders completely bathed in to religious devotion. her It is in the mother. in ancient splendors bright!" During a year's residence in Italy Tieck applied himself chiefly to reading old-German manuscripts. and Love. the and the of spring. Here Tieck shows his intimate sense of the poetry of inanimate nature . Emperor Octavian (1804). Moonshine-lighted Rise. All the motives of the old court-lyric are well — the torments and rewards of love. in the Library . World. compared them to the chatter of sparrows. and Goethe also paid his compliments to the " sing-song of the Minnesingers. it is true. which wondrous tales recall.62 THE GERMAN CLASSICS Minnelieder. lyric in tone and loose in form. prologue to this play that personified Romance declares her descent from Faith. its unique place in the universe as a pathway to the Divine which the modern mind is prone to take some exceptions. Schiller. The note of the book (in which Runge's copperplate outlines are perhaps as significant as the poems) is spiritual- — a point of view to represented ized sex-love: the utterance of its fragrance and delicacy. the refinements of courtly breeding metrical forms are handled with great virtusophisticated osity.

Bielefeld and Leipzig MORITZ VON SCHWIND THE CHAPEL IN THE FOREST .Permission Velhagen & Klasing.


After a roving existence of years. home from a Romantic view-point. The " dramatic evenings " at his home. It is pleasant to record that the evening of Tieck 's long life was made secure from anxieties by a call to Berlin from Friedrich Wilhelm IV. were a feature of social life. the " Romantic king. he made a settled in Dresden. and his mother belonged to the Moravians. disturbed only by having to give dramatic readings before a self-sufficient court circle which was imperfectly equipped for appreciating the merits of Tieck 's performances. it being his duty to pass on plays to be performed and to decide upon suitable actors for the parts. From the time of his leaving for Italy. Munich. Tieck 's importance for the development of Romanticism becomes comparatively negligible. though they differ widely from his earlier writings in dealing with real." His last eleven years were spent there in quiet and peace. During his long residence in Dresden Tieck produced a very large number of short stories (Novellen) which had a decided vogue. The early Romantic movement found its purest expression in the person and writings of Friedrich von Hardenberg.. in which he read plays aloud before a brilliant gathering. Here he had an enviable place in the considerable literary and artistic group. Baron von Hardenberg (chief director of the Saxon salt-works). contemporary life.THE EARLY ROMANTIC SCHOOL of the Vatican. 63 and wavered upon the edge of a decision to devote himself to Germanic philology. and led an very existence of almost suspiciously " reasonable " well-being. that devoted group of mystical pietists whose sincere consecration to the things of the spirit has achieved a deathless place in the annals of the . Prague and London. The loss to science is not serious. For seventeen " drama " of years he had an influential position as turg the Royal Theatre. Both his father. better known under his assumed literary name Novalis (1772-1801). during which he lived in Vienna. for Tieck hardly possessed the grasp and security which could have made him a peer of the great pioneers in this field.

greatly devoted to study and to the reading of poetry. He was given a most thorough education." old at the time of his peaceful quite twenty-nine years ' ' : death. He loved to discourse on these unseen realms. whose passing away at mained the age of fifteen served to transport the youth's interests Life is a sickalmost exclusively to the invisible world His chief converness of the spirit. life His gentle presents very little of dramatic incident: he was a reserved. who in with Friedrich Schlegel edited his works in a all. a sensitive chord attuned to poetic values. while completing his university career." . He experienced a seraphic love for a delicate girl of thirteen. A Fichte. a passionate Doing. The testimony The common life almost religious piety. determined the beginnings and the essential char- acter of the world-wide Methodist movement. somewhat unsocial boy. which plunged the circle of his Romantic friends into deepest grief. ' ' : ' ' sation lay in solitude. and to create an ideal connection be- tween them company spirit of of his friend Tieck. he appeared to exercise an almost mediumistic refraction and revelation of matters which lie only in the realm of the transcendental " — Weaving about the commonplace of things The golden haze of morning's blushing glow. and that realm which most men conceive as something far and incompreHe was not hensible was the very Home of his Soul.64 THE GERMAN CLASSICS religious history of the eighteenth century. and. more particularly. and. and re- He also came to know his most intimate friend. and eagerly absorbed his Doctrine of Science. runs environed him like some tale of fiction. became acquainted with Friedrich Schlegel. of his spiritual nature was so tenuous that he seemed to respond to all the subtler influences of the The envelope universe. little later he came into close relations with Wilhelm Schlegel and Tieck in Jena. in seeking for a mystic inner solution of the secrets of external nature.

or nowhere. never-experienced things — " Ah. the countenance of Divinity. lonely stands. Veiled Image of Nature is attempted from the point of all is symbolic: only poetic. and proves a most racking riddle to the uninitiated. Pollen " Bluthenstaub ") (rather an unromantic translation for these were largely supplemented by materials found after his death. her own good pleasure. the beginnings of a " physical ' ' The Novices at Sa'is. has some suggestion of the symbolistic lore of parts of Goethe's Wilhelm Meister. the world is but a novel. In the first volume of the Athenceum (1798) a place of honor was given to his group of apothegms. his passion was for remote. The rhythmic prose Hymns to Night exhale a delicate melanwill. Who loves the past with fervent glow " ! His homesickness for the invisible world became an almost sensuous yearning for the joys of death. past or future. . with all its systems. precipitate of human nature. The penetration into the meaning of the view that . . In the last vol. Henry of Ofterdingen. and merged in woe. IV —5 . is infinity. Hyacinth and Rose-Blossom. and republished as Fragments. it is hardly possible to discriminate between discourse and dreaming. reveals herself to the childlike spirit to such she . The Novices at Sa'is. though gradually. disclose herself spontaneously.THE EARLY ROMANTIC SCHOOL 65 In reading Novalis. This seems to be the inner meaning of the episodic tale. reveal Fichte 's Novalis 's aphoristic seed-thoughts transcendental idealistic philosophy as the fine-spun web of The external world is but a all his observations on life. Practically posthumous: his unfinished novel. intuitive souls may enter in the merely physical investigator is but searching through a charnel-house. ume of the same journal (1800) appeared all his Hymns to of his other published works are Night. a set of religious ' ' hymns ' ' . a mystical contemplation of nature reminding us of the discourses of Jakob Bohme. at *Vol. Nature. shadow the universe is in us there.

that the spirit of an older day is symbolically struggling for some expression in words. it is altogether free from such conventional limits as Time and Space.66 THE GERMAN CLASSICS choly. and yet breathing a peace which comes from a knowledge of the deeper meanings of Their stealing things. moving in a vague haze. yet the truly intimation that the dream is not all a dream. may seem about as practical as to attempt to make a trigonometrical survey of the Kingdom of Dreams. 1 ' ' ' it in close confinement. . derived from the most complex sources. passionate life. and rest. To deal with tlie facts of classic art." of Ofterdingen reaches a of obscurity which is saved from absurdity only by depth the genuinely fervent glow of a soul on the quest for its The unfinished novel Henry The blue flower it is that I yearn to look No farcical romance of the nursery shows more upon the mingled stuff that dreams are made on. intensity of adoration. what its effect would be upon a person relegated to reading it would not be safe to assert. however dazed the mind may be melody with their vagueness. No epoch in all literary history is so hopelessly entangled in the meshes of subtle philosophical speculation. peace. but this way madness lies. to which the English language is prone to give a plainer name. It develops into a fantastic melange which no American mind can possibly reckon with. Stripped of its dreamy mystic ideals ' ' ' ' : ! diction. and their exaltation of death above In his Spiritual Poems we feel a simple. a yearning sympathy for the hopeless and the heavy-laden in their ardent assurance of love. gave it in its day a serious importance at which our own age can merely marvel. there is even a tropical residue of sensuousness. It brings no historical conviction. divined rather than experienced. haunts the soul. they are surely to be reckoned among the most intimate documents in the whole archives of the " varieties of religious experience. it is quite certain that To generalize about the Romantic movement. .

A more elaborated authoritative definition is given in the first volume of the Athenaeum: 11 Romantic poetry is a progressive universal-poetry. to the ' ' sigh. artistic and natural poetry. from the greatest and most inclusive system of art. to saturate all the forms of art with worthy materials of culture and enliven them by the sallies of humor. that it — forever can merely become. genius and criticism. as it alone is free. as it were. romantic poetry is still in process of becoming in fact this is its chief characteristic. to make life and society poetic. that the poetic child utters in artless song. Its most authorized exponent declared it to be " the delineation of sentimental matter in fantastic form. and asserts as its first law that the whim of the poet tolerates no law above itself. to make poetry lively and social. and. it aims and ought to aim to mingle and combine poetry and prose. Its aim is not merely to reunite all the dispersed classes of poetry. the kiss. It can never be exhausted by any theory. Romantic poetry is the only sort which is more than a class. It alone is endless. . striving to benumb its sensations by an auto-intoxication of dreams.THE EARLY ROMANTIC SCHOOL 67 which is concerned with seeking a clearly-defined perfection. is a simple matter compared with the unbounded and undefined concepts of a school which waged war upon " the deadliness of ascertained facts " and immersed itself in vague intimations of glories that were to be. the art of poetry itself. It embraces everything that is poetic. and to place poetry in touch with philosophy and rhetoric. an age of political miseries and restrained powers. to poetize wit. which turned away from its own surroundings and sought to be free from all contact with them. but never be completed. and may now be exhaustively dissected. Other classes of poetry are complete." We may in part account for Romanticism by recalling that it was the product of an age which was no longer in sympathy with its own tasks. and only an intuitive criticism could dare to attempt to characterize its ideals.

is its own excuse for being. Romanticism amounts ments." As personality is supreme. hardly a misty trace." Hence a purely lyric attitude toward life. Although the hearers very were awake. which was apprehended only on transcendent. A and sponsibility. and for that telligible a sound. kraftige TJngezogenheit. it was the doctrine of this Mary in the family of ' ' dull externalists the care of the better part " many things. to be man. The unbridgeable chasm between Ideal and Life could not be spanned. and that many of its exponents led unregulated lives. divorced from all its bearings or functions. modern life seemed full of " prose and pettiness " as compared with the Middle Ages. It stoutly believed in an inexpugnable right to Illusions. so well-nigh uninIt was like music itself. Poetry was to be the heart and centre of actual living. as opposed to the truth and meaning of individual phenomena. standards and opinions. Get you irony. because it had so strange. and the 1 ' ' ' . and form yourself to urbanity is the counsel of Friedrich Schlegel. palpitant imagination outcold intelligence sensation. reason attracted so irresistibly.68 THE GERMAN CLASSICS Romanticism is built the unique importance of the Individual: " To become God. to develop one's own being. In the " one of — being seed-thoughts mixing to unchartered freedom. realities are playthings to be treated allegorically. it is upon the imposing corner-stone of natural that there should follow a contempt for the mediocrity of current majorities. musical valuations. It abhorred universal abstractions. while she chose in contemplative lingering at the vision of Bethany to leave to the Martha of what was ranks ' ' essentially higher. and held clarity and earnestness to be foes of human happiness. " die gesunde. these are expressions for the same thing. Of re' ' ." It is no wonder that so many of its literary works remain unfinished fragall species. they were entertained as though in a dream. ' ' ' ' The step was not a long one to the thesis that disorder and confusion are the pledge of true efficiency such " of Novalis. " The poem gained great applause.

both in art and life musical era which the Age of Enlightcolorful. in spite of certain tendencies to ignore and supersede the adamant foundations of morality upon which the ' ' humanities ' ' as well as society rest. pos- sibly because this philosophy of intuition corresponds to the higher intimations of woman's soul. to say the least. as formulated by its enemies. met this hopelessness with the shrug of The every-day enthusiasm of the common life invited it is only a sneer. which scholarship recovered when Romanticism had directed it into the domains of German antiquity and phiIn addition to lology. capable women. and the wealth of popular song. Romanticism gifted. the world has found restorative. When all is said. one cannot quite help hoping that somehow good may be the final hint of it all. We should not for. to return to the limited perfection of the serene and approved classics yet perchance it is the last word of all philosophy it restful and . form-loving enment had so crassly despised. . to be sure. Other obvious fruits of the movement were the revival of the poetry and that dignity of the Middle Ages. That this yearning for — the beautiful background led to reaction in politics and religion is natural enough more edifying are the rich fruits . get that the most shocking pronouncements of the Romanticists were uttered half -ironically. often. somewhat better than its worst repute. associated with flashing wit. it is. at least. true. and in spite of Romanticism's weak and unmanly quitting of the field of duty. we must reckon the spoils which these adventurers these. that the astounding circumambient Universe is almost entirely unperceived by our senses and reasoning powers. Among its shows a remarkable group of more pleasing manifestations. brought back from their quest into the faery lands of Poetry in southern climes. Like Mary Stuart. Estimates change even the excellent Wordsworth was held by the English reviewers to be fantastic and vague in his Ode to Duty.THE EAELY ROMANTIC SCHOOL baffled idealist 69 irony. After its excursion into the fantastic jungle of Romanticism.

wise. and just. . the curb of lust Thou handmaid of the Gods " ! — . that the country which claims a Hawthorne.70 THE GERMAN CLASSICS Let us confess. E'en let them die at blasphemy And But we that perish with their arts. While we adore discover more Thee perfect. The spur of trust. but we that prove Thine excellence august. and a youthful Longfellow. shadow kind to dumb and blind The shambles where we die. a Poe. love. sum to trick th' arithmetic Too base of leaguing odds. can never surrender unconditionally its hold upon the " True Romance ' ' : " Through wantonness if men profess They weary of Thy parts. . . and without apology. A A A veil to draw 'twixt God His Law And Man's infirmity.

and partly on account of the influence which these stages Both the have had on the theatres of other countries. partly for the sake of placing. or not been made till a late period in the decay of the drama. and G. without any foreign influence: the attempts to bring them back to an imitation of the ancients.AUGUST WILHELM SCHLEGEL LECTURES ON DRAMATIC ART* TRANSLATED BY JOHN BLACK (1809) Lecture XXII Comparison Drama English — Shakespeare — His Spanish age and of the and Theatres Spirit of the Romantic the circumstances of his Life. We have been. again. among whom even the least admired and celebrated. Ltd. London. both have had a number of prolific and highly talented dramatists. many ideas in a clearer light. connection with that of the Italians and French. compelled in passing to allude cursorily. The formation and most important period of the English theatre I could discover no trace of any knowledge of Spanish plays * Permission The Macmillan Co. New York. — [N conformity with the plan which we laid down at the first. by means of contrast. English and Spaniards possess a very rich dramatic literature. [71] . considered as a whole.. or even of the French. .. is of each other the Spanish poets were equally independent altogether unacquainted with the English and in the older . for they developed themselves wholly out of the abundance of their own intrinsic energy. display uncommon aptitude for dramatic animation and insight into the essence The history of their theatres has no of theatrical effect. we shall now proceed to treat of the English and Spanish theatres. on various occasions. have either been attended with no success. Bell & Sons. sometimes to the one and sometimes to the other. of these two stages.

So many things among men have been handed down from century to century and from nation to nation. . and it was not till the time of Charles II. all the building materials. We participate. it was original and native. when the Alexandrian poets began learnedly and critically to compose dramas after the model of the great tragic writers. they set to work in good earnest to invent phenomenon. but it is easy. from their own resources. the period when Greeks imitated Greeks namely. in some measure. and for that very reason was it able But it ended with to produce a living and powerful effect. rowed their dramatic art from any other people. to writing. and the human mind is in general so slow to invent. Among the nations of modern Europe. preparations.72 THE GERMAN CLASSICS (though their novels and romances were certainly known). in the joy of success. We altogether for themselves when they lay the foundation of the new edifice on uncovered ground. first when we see them advance rapidly from their helplessness and need to a finished mastery in their The history of the Grecian theatre would afford us this cheering prospect could we witness its rudest beginnings. or to express their own way of thinking. when we compare and Sophocles. that originality in any department of mental exertion is everywhere a rare are desirous of seeing the result of the efforts of inventive geniuses when. and draw all the . that translations from Calderon first made their appearance. The reverse of this was the case with the Romans. for they were not even art. which were not preserved. committed . regardless of what in the same line has elsewhere been carried to a high degree of perfection. and hence they occupy so insignificant a place in the history of dramatic art. to form some idea of the preiEschylus The Greeks neither inherited nor borceding period. the English and Spaniards alone (for the German stage is but forming) possess as yet a theatre entirely original and . they received the form and substance of their dramas from the Greeks they never attempted to act according to their own discretion.



there can be no safety out of the pale of imitation." since most critics. as in all the other arts. but of this there is no danger. we may answer this objection of want of form. we must understand the exact meaning of the term " form. as has been felt by all nations on the first invention of metre it must act according to laws derivable from its own essence. in the introductory part of these Lectures. as a whole. We have already. it is imparted to any material merely as an that . as models. they have brought nothing but irregular works on the stage. otherwise its strength will evaporate in boundless vacuity. must yet. Form is mechanical when. However. through external force. though at the expense of art. be forever reprobated as barbarous and wanting in form. on the assumption that the obstinacy of these nations in refusing comply with the rules may have afforded a more ample field to the poets to display their native originality. But even this assumption. and would at most appear remarkable. appears extremely questionable. in its 73 own peculiar shape. must rank them far below the ancients. which. stated our sentiments generally on this way of thinking. has arrived at maturity. all that distinguishes the works of the greatest English and Spanish dramatists. as the nations in question have not followed this course. and more especially those who insist on a stiff regularity. affirm that. Those critics who consider the authority of the ancients. which. that it may move with poetic spirit requires a becoming liberty within its proper precincts. interpret it merely in a mechanical. and not in an organical sense.LECTURES ON DRAMATIC ART national. . The works of genius cannot therefore be permitted to be without form. If the assertion be well founded. though they may possess occasional pas- sages of splendor and beauty. The to be limited. to be such that in poetry. a Shakespeare and a Calderon. but we must now examine the subject somewhat more closely. on a to closer examination. they could in no wise be of importance for theory.

and from these again to the human In the fine arts. all genuine forms are organical. may . and judge of them according to the ideas conveyed by these names. the form nothing but a significant exterior. from the crystallization of salts and minerals to plants and flowers. which. as long as it is not disfigured by any destructive accident. the supreme artist. through different bodies. though is imperishable. is easily supposable. migrates. which. for example. the application which we make of the authority of classical a of a different conformation. again. . they are romantic dramas. so often as it is newly born in the human race. No one should be altogether unjustifiable. Hence it is evident that the spirit of poetry. as it were. antiquity is safely admit that most of the English and Spanish dramatic works are neither tragedies nor comedies in the That sense of the ancients. Organ- form. the speaking physiognomy of each thing. mold to itself. as well as in the domain of nature. it unfolds itself from within. and requires its determination contemporaneously with the perfect development of the germ. In a word. We tried before a tribunal to which he is not amenable. and not only deviate from. and we But when should only be astonished were it otherwise. We everywhere discover such forms in nature throughout the whole range of living powers. The forms vary with body the direction taken by the poetical sense and when we give to the new kinds of poetry the old names. who neither knew nor wished to know anything of foreign models. but even exhibit a striking contrast to. body. must. the theatres of other nations who had a common model for imitation before their eyes. that is.74 THE GERMAN CLASSICS . when we give a particular shape to a soft mass that ical it may retain the same after its induration. out of the nutrimental substance of an altered age. will possess many peculiarities. determined by the quality of the work. the stage of a people in its foundation and formation. gives a true evidence of its hidden essence. accidental addition without reference to its quality as. is innate.



LECTURES ON DRAMATIC ART in 75 two nations. we raise from the dead a countryman. moral. Long before him other Germans had endeavored to reconcile the contrarieties of taste of different ages and nations. differing so widely as the English and Spanish in physical. If. he gives himself out as the inventor of the thing itself. may be best exercised by a German. yet by inclination friendly to both. and . he is. But here a reconciling criticism* must step in and this. This comparison. or in the commixture of comic and tragic elements. without doubt. and introduce to their acquaintance the works of the in their poet to which in life they were strangers. no reconciliation is possible. prevented by no jealousy from acknowledging the greatness which has been earlier exhibited in other countries than his own. first used by M. of the English and Spanish theatre. enter with difficulty into the above idea and have many objections to urge against it. along with external and internal diversities. and another of Calderon. at least. Between good and bad. who is free from the national peculiarities of either Englishmen or Spaniards. arose about the same time) possess. political. Adam German Science and Literature. Miiller in his Lectures on if we mistake not. without being known to one another. the most striking features of affinity. considering the subject rather from a national than a general point of view. never yet been attempted. The similarity of the English and Spanish theatres does not consist merely in the bold neglect of the Unities of Place and Time. common contrast with every dramatic literature which has grown up out of an imitation of the ancients. and religious respects. that they were unwilling or unable to comply * This appropriate expression was. . they would both. the theatres (which. to use the softest word. Could has. the attention even of the most thoughtless cannot but be turned to this phenomenon. a kindred principle must have prevailed in the development of both. however. or. however. and the conjecture will naturally occur that the same. a contemporary and intelligent admirer of Shakespeare. perhaps. it is true. and to pay due homage to all genuine poetry and art. in error. so far as we know.

in our opinion. the English is completely so in Shakespeare alone. seriousness and mirth. which. outwardly at least. may be considered as an evidence of merely negative properties. therefore. which are dissimilar.76 THE GERMAN CLASSICS with the rules and with right reason (in the meaning of certain critics these terms are equivalent). although the march of dramatic composition introduced by virtue of it has been. one a northern and the other a southern. withdraw within itself. The ground of the resemblance lies far deeper. its founder and greatest master but in later poets the romantic principle appears more or less degenerated. the only two poets who are entitled to be called great. merely briefly The ancient art and poetry rigormention the subject. together with its validity. life and death. the Spanish theatre. . when we come between Shakespeare and Calderon. the romantic ously separate things nature delights in indissoluble mixtures. down to its decline and fall in the commencement of the eighteenth century. is almost entirely romantic. recollection restrial — and anticipation. is the spirit of the romantic poetry. the latter with a glowing imagination. have been expressed the former endowed with a gloomy. the violence of passion — the the other impelled outwardly by mode in which all this has to institute a parallel been accomplished will be most satisfactorily explained at the close of this section. the one nation possessed of a scrutinizing seriousness disposed to . are by it blended . However. giving utterance to itself in a dramatic shape. or is no longer perceivable. spirituality and sensuality. pretty generally retained. terand celestial. to explain ourselves with due precision. The manner in which the different ways of thinking of the two nations. has also its What they have in common with each other significance. Of the origin and essence of the romantic I treated in my first Lecture. poetry and prose. all contrarieties and art. in the inmost substance of the fictions and in the essential relations through which every deviation of form becomes a true requisite. and I shall here.

Such a picture must be bounded less perfectly and less distinctly than the group for it is like a fragment cut out . As the oldest law- givers delivered their mandatory instructions and prescriptions in measured melodies. Feeling perceives all in all at one and the same time. is the consideration exclusively directed. harmonious promulgation of the permanently established legislation of a world submitted to a beautiful order and reflecting in itself the eternal images of things. clear. and like to nature in the self. but nothing in truth can ever exist separately and by itself. not- withstanding its fragmentary appearance.LECTURES ON DRAMATIC ART in the 77 most intimate combination. the latter. is the expression of the secret attraction to a chaos which lies concealed in the very bosom of the ordered universe. existent perfection of her separate works. est objects. . where not merely figure and motion are exhibited in larger. as being all that is properly exhibited. these two. For Conception can only comprise each object separately. But the romantic drama must be viewed as a large picture. in both productions of art. approaches nearer to the secret of the universe. a rhythmical nomos (law). as this is fabulously ascribed to Orpheus. Respecting the two species of poetry with which we are here principally occupied. and is perpetually striving after new and marvelous births the life-giving spirit of primal The love broods here anew on the face of the waters. the figures corresponding to the characters. richer groups. we compared the ancient Tragedy to a group in sculpture. and their grouping to the action and to . a . the first softener of the yet untamed race of mortals in like manner the whole of ancient poetry and art is. but where even all that surrounds the figures must also be portrayed where we see not merely the near. on the other hand. and all this under a magical light which assists in giving to the impression the particular character desired. but are indulged with the prospect of a considerable distance. as it were. Romantic poetry. former is more simple.

to the It does not (like the Old Tragedy) separate seriousness and the action. and by other means of fixing the point must neither wander beyond the nor omit anything within it. consists lightest movements. However. will learn that he . by throwing the whole of his the setting of light into the centre. Painting cannot compete with Sculpture. the painter. since the former can exhibit it only by a deception and from a single point of view but. and thus lends. as it were. by his foreground. a soul to the prospect before us. in short. namely. in a rigid manner. what is The very same description of beauties are peculiar romantic drama. and while it seems only to represent subjects brought accidentally together. of view. from among the whole ingredients of life. can be given only very imperfectly by Sculpture. vening objects) the contrast of gayety and gravity (supposing that in degree and kind they bear a proportion to each other) finally. composition In the representation of figure. to transform his personages into poetical . or half-concealed by inter. light and air.78 THE GERMAN CLASSICS of the optic scene of the world. nearness and distance. with reference to is indicated in the distance. enables us to read much deeper in the mind and perceive its Its peculiar charm. it communicates more life to its imitations by colors which in a picture are made to imitate the lightest shades The look. buries us in reflections on the inexpressible signification of the objects which we view blended by order. into one harmonious whole. it satisfies the unconscious requisitions of fancy. it embraces at once the whole of the chequered drama of life with all its circumstances. more or less perfectly. which of mental expression in the countenance. . the mixture of the dialogical and the lyrical elements (by which the poet is enabled. light and color. The change of time and of place (supposing its influence on the mind to be included in the picture and that it comes what to the aid of the theatrical perspective. on the other hand. that it enables us to see in bodily objects least corporeal. in this.

than others whose acquaintance with him is more limited. were I to say all that I have felt and thought on the perusal of his works. cessors. any remarks we may have to make on earlier or contemporary antiquities of the English stage may be made in a notice the English theatre. of a poet to the study of whom I have devoted many years of my life. — and in many others also. because it In both we must occupy ourselves almost exclusively with a single artist. and of the meaning and import of his labors. for Shakespeare stands first and earliest among the English. of his concealed or less obvious views. places me in no little embarrassment. fully resemble each other. perhaps. the English and Spanish works. more correct ideas of procedure. we ought to possess. On the other hand. arrived at maturity earlier than the Spanish. indeed. Of the two we shall . with Shakespeare in the one and Calderon in the other. true beauties in the romantic drama. and to have the power of communicating. which are preeminently worthy of this title of Romantic. A late poet has. first But Calderon had many predereview of his history. of puritanical fanaticism.LECTURES ON DRAMATIC ART 79 these. however different they may be in other respects. as with the man. with propriety." the idol of his contemporaries during the interval. With the poet. which broke out He was . ." the genius of the British isles. I know not where to begin for I should never be able to end. called him . from putting ourselves in the place of those who are first forming an acquaintance with him: we are too familiar with his most striking peculiarities to be able to pronounce upon the first impression which they are calculated to make on others. of his mode Shakespeare is the pride of his nation. The wish to speak with the brevity which the limits of my plan demand. are not mere licenses. he is at once the summit and almost the close of dramatic art in Spain. in my opinion. but not in the same order with each. a more than ordinary intimacy prevents us. but beings) In all these points.

and. Shakespeare has. perhaps. in his rhymeless Alexandrines. Montague literal translation can ever be a faithful one. where the readings seemed corrupt. only to shine forth again about the beginning of the last century with more than its original brightness. for the sole purpose of fully collated. so. and. explaining the phrases and illustrating the allusions of Commentators have succeeded one another Shakespeare. . has translated a few passages from Hamlet and the first act of Julius Ccesar. like an Alpine avalanche. supposed that a has done enough to prove how wretchedly even Voltaire. and the Like painters in transferring his scenes to the canvas. in such number that their labors alone. constitute of themselves no inconsiderable library. when his works were either not acted at all. corrections have been suggested and the whole litermany ature of his age has been drawn forth from the oblivion to which it had been consigned. received the perhaps inevitable but still cumbersome honor of being treated like a classical The oldest editions have been careauthor of antiquity. an invincible obstacle In England. Of the future extension of his fame. but since then it has only increased in lustre with the course of time.80 THE GERMAN CLASSICS in the next generation and rigorously proscribed all liberal arts and literature. Europe. for it must not be Mrs. These labors deserve more especially the hisboth our praise and gratitude — torical investigations into the sources from which Shakespeare drew the materials of his plays and also into the pre* This difficulty extends also to France.* his language and the great difficulty of translating him with fidelity will be. during the reign of the second Charles. vie with one another in the impersonation of his characters . with the critical controversies to which they have given rise. is a significant earnest. if very much changed and disfigured. the moment that he In the South of was known. the enthusiasm with which he was naturalized in Germany. the printers in splendid editions of his works. the greatest actors to his general diffusion. and for centuries to come (I speak it with the greatest confidence) it will. his fame was awhile obscured. Dante. or. . continue to gather strength at every moment of its progress.

I am frequently compelled to differ from the commentators. designated a female writer on the great poet as the snarling Lycisca. and without aim or object. as well as other kindred subjects of inquiry. with the words : A mind reflecting ages past. merely philological criticisms. to remove some of these false views. too. prefixed to an early edition of Shakespeare. however. shall endeavor. a younger contemporary and rival of Shakespeare. but with no great success.* An idea. With respect. IV —6 . at least it is a wellinto his views known fact that a satirical poet has represented Shakes- peare. by Actaeon worried to death by his own dogs. who labored in the sweat of his brow. that we without let all may thereupon offer it the more freely or hindrance. and is subscribed M. and where. following up the story of Ovid. in the first place. they endeavor to enter to their and to decide upon his merits. It begins S. author. the accounts of Shakespeare which have come it is clear that his contemporaries knew well From down to us the treasure they possessed in him. under the hands of his commentators. in order to clear the way for our own We homage. I have hardly ever found either truth or profundity in their remarks. soon became prevalent that Shakespeare was a rude and wild genius. and. by an unknown him. and one of these. and these critics seem to me to be but stammering interpreters of the general and almost idolatrous admiration of his counThere may be people in England who entertain trymen. however. Ben Jonson. contains some of the most beautiful and happy lines that were ever applied to any poet. * I. and that they felt and understood him better than most of those who succeeded In those days a work was generally ushered into the world with Commendatory Verses. I must separate myself from them entirely. Vol.LECTURES ON DRAMATIC ART 81 vious and contemporary state of the English stage. his unconnected compositions. considering him simply as a poet. who poured forth at random. the same views of them with myself.

a great deal too little of him. of giving us a miserable dole of a It is. and it is Yet remarks on separate passages. gave it as his opinion that Shakespeare did not blot enough. have. was felt and acknowledged by him. All the scenes and passages which did not square with the littleness of his own taste. and conceited mode of writing. which could have been given to the world only by a disordered imagination in a barbarous age * . unfortunately. had in their his opinion been taken. but he when he wrote the Dramaturgie this poet had not yet appeared on our stage. but. Judging them by principles which are not applicable to them. Pope asserts that he wrote both better and worse than any other man. almost . highly honorable to Milton that the sweetness of Shakespeare. he wished to place to the account of interpolating players.82 THE GERMAN CLASSICS to expel the romantic drama from the English stage and to form it on the model of the ancients. he owed more to nature than to art. as so many rhetorical exercises in praise of the poet. both in their prefaces.* They speak in general of Shakespeare's plays as monstrous productions. as in the time speak of Shakespeare in a becoming tone. not only do they admit the irregularity of his pieces. as he did not possess much school-learning. the quality which of all others has been least The modern allowed. ungrammatical. Since that time he has been more particularly noticed by Herder in the Blatter von deutscher Art und Kunst. with the exception of the Germans latterly. when he says — Our sweetest Shakespeare. not to be wondered at if foreigners. which break at the commencement. and that. and he was on the right road. however. and sometimes rather pedantic Milton was also of this opinion. Warbles his native wood-notes wild. Goethe. in their ignorance of him. 1800). which may be considered editors. in Wilhelm Meister. off. on occasion. and Tieck. and even of the most contemptible buffoonery. fancy's child. they accuse him of bombast. therefore. go still farther. and Voltaire crowns the whole with more than usual first to Lessing was the said. The learned. even improved upon these mangled Shakespeare. of a confused. opinions. in " Letters on Shakespeare" (Poetisches Journal.

consequently. The cause of the Protestants was decided by the accession of Elizabeth to the throne and the attachment to the ancient belief cannot therefore be urged as a Such was the zeal for proof of the prevailing darkness. might be pardonable but that Englishmen should join in calumniating that glorious epoch of their history. * — . and.LECTURES ON DRAMATIC ART 83 assurance when he observes that Hamlet. without any instruction either from the world or from books." Voltaire's Trans. flourished and wrote in the last half of the Shakespeare reign of Queen Elizabeth and first half of that of James I. were acquainted with Latin and Greek. under monarchs who were learned themselves and held literature in honor. and.* which laid the founda. the study of the ancients that even court ladies. tion national greatness. and there we have a most unjustifiable " Born in a rude age.. best acquainted The English work with which foreigners of every country are perhaps is Hume's History. as an actor and manager of a theatre. must have come in contact with all descriptions of individuals. who." That foreigners. in the lowest manner. "a reasonable propriety of thought he cannot for any time uphold. should entertain this opinion of Shakespeare. a drunken savage. he goes even so far as to say. by which the relations of its different states have been so variously interwoven with one another. carried on with all the four quarters of the world English made them acquainted with the customs and mental productions of other nations and it would appear that they were — . had no instruction from the world ? But this is not the worst. the profound " seems the work of masterpiece of the philosophical poet. and a degree of knowledge taught even to speak the former which we should in vain seek for in the courts of Europe The trade and navigation which the at the present day. whose characters display such an intimate acquaintance with life. ." How could a man of Hume's acuteness suppose for a moment that a poet. is incomprehensible." This is nearly as offensive as " drunken savage. as if cannibalism had been terminated in Europe only by Louis XIV. and the queen herself. The policy of modern Europe. commenced a century before. and educated account both of Shakespeare and his age. Frenchmen. of their . in particular. who ordinarily speak the most strange language of antiquity and the middle ages.

a fulness of healthy vigor. was a contemporary of Shakespeare. Spanish literature also was not unknown. and. on the other hand. and even successfully.84 THE GERMAN CLASSICS then more indulgent to foreign manners than they are in the present day. His fame as a writer did not. ages and unsubstantial. manwill never and rural and political economy ufactures. I have elsewhere* examined into the pretensions of modern enlightenment. . necessary to remark that there is a wide difference between true mental cultivation and what is called polish. executed from the Italian. and the structures erected by those pedagogues of the human race have fallen to pieces like the baby-houses I ' ' of children. Italy had already produced nearly all that still distinguishes her literature. was undoubtedly wholly unknown to the age of Shakespeare. as it is — — called. for it is certain that Don Quixote was read in England soon after its first appearance. but what a number of ideas must have been in circulation before such an author could arise! Many branches of human knowledge have. With regard it is to the tone of society in Shakespeare's day. Bacon. enable a man to become a poet. That artificial polish which puts an end to everything like free original communication and subjects all intercourse to the insipid uniformity of certain rules. superficial. which * In my lectures on The Spirit of the Age. as in a great measure it still is at the present day in England. mechanics. in England. indeed. break forth into its glory till after his death. but such branches as are totally unproductive to poetry chemistry. . been more extensively cultivated. It possessed. which looks with such contempt on all preceding have shown that at bottom it is all small. The pride of what has been called the " has come to a miserexisting maturity of human intensity able end. and of whom it may be said that he carried in his pocket all that even in this eighteenth century merits the name of philosophy. since that time. the founder of modern experimental philosophy. translations in verse were diligently.

may.LECTURES ON DRAMATIC ART showed 85 itself always with boldness. Hamlet says. who was far more jealous in exacting homage to her sex than to her throne. and magnanimity. that stand in better place. and every great lord had a sort of small court of his own. inflamed that spirit to the noblest love of glory and renown. was in fact well qualified to inspire the minds of her subjects with an ardent enthusiasm. he galls his kibe. alluding to Launcelot : : O dear discretion. and sometimes also with coarseness. be considered as instances of a to take them for symptoms of rudeness is bad taste. wisdom. kept up. . view of painting the actual tone of the society in his day it does not." And Lorenzo. and a queen. these three years I have taken note of it the age is grown so picked that the toe of the peasant comes so near the heel of the courtier. Garnish'd like him. and we need not therefore wonder at the universality of the mode). By the Lord. The feudal independence also still survived in some measure. Horatio. This. the nobility vied with one another in splendor of dress and number of retinue. in the Merchant of Venice. that for a tricksy word Defy the matter. it clearly appears that he held them in derision. but and barbarity not less absurd than to infer the poverty of a people from their luxurious extravagance. versation they took pleasure in quick and unexpected answers and the witty sally passed rapidly like a ball from mouth to mouth. however. how his words are suited! The fool hath planted in his memory An army of good words: and I do know A many fools. The spirit of chivalry was not yet wholly extinct. till the merry game could no longer be . in the scene with the " gravedigger. with her determination. These strained repartees are frequently employed by Shakespeare. follow that they met with his approbation. The distinction a state of things of ranks was as yet strongly marked — In conardently to be desired by the dramatic poet. and the abuse of the play on words (of which King James was himself very fond. and who. on the contrary. doubtless. with the .

the diversity in the moral feeling of ages depends on other causes. The female parts were not acted by women. age. at times. On this subject. and lashes every deviation from it. which in other circumstances would have been absolutely improper. its offences against propriety? But if this is to be admitted as a test. This species of indelicacy was probably not then unusual. who were both considered as models of urbandisplay. for in many is not the slightest trace of this sort found. the coarsest indelicacy. . or sex. What foundation is there. he suffers ambiguous expressions to escape in the presence of women. lays great and marked stress on a correct and refined tone of society. not only does he give admirable discourses on it. It is certainly to be wished that decency should be observed on all public occasions. troduces us to improper company. we must account him comparatively chaste and moral. but by boys and no person of the fair sex appeared in the theatre without a mask. Neither must we overlook certain circumstances in the existing state of the theatre. He certainly did not indulge in it merely to please the multitude. at others. at best. and beneath this hypocritical guise there often of his pieces there to be ! . Shakespeare. Under such a carnival disguise. then the ages of Pericles and Augustus must also be described as rude and uncultivated. much might be heard by them. but he represents it in all its shades and modifications by rank. in a thousand places.86 THE GERMAN CLASSICS Besides. and even by much later. and in what virgin purity are many of his female parts worked out When we see the liberties taken other dramatic poets in England in his time. and even from women themselves. for Aristophanes and Horace. is. whether of boorishness or affected foppery. Shakespeare. but an ambiguous criterion of purity of morals. But even in this it is possible to go too far. and consequently also on the stage. and much might be ventured to be said in their presence. it is true. sometimes inity. then. That carping censoriousness which scents out impurity in every bold sally. for the alleged barbarity of his age.

may be carried to a pitch extremely oppressive to a dramatic poet and highly prejudicial to the boldness and freedom If such considerations were to be of his compositions. In all this there is not a single word of truth. who in look through such strange spectacles as to see nothing them but rudeness and barbarity cannot deny what I have now historically proved. and All's Well that Ends Well. ignorant and uneducated. I should. "What has Shakespeare to do with the mental culture of his age? He had no share in it. so far as we know. must be set aside as sinning against this would-be propriety.LECTURES ON DRAMATIC ART 87 The lurks the consciousness of an impure imagination. and labored to please a vulgar audience for his bread. that none of them. of about such a character as those which are little told at inns to inquisitive strangers place or neighborhood of a celebrated who visit the birth- man. Within a very recent period some original documents have been brought to light. Had no other monuments of the age of Elizabeth come down to us than the works of Shakespeare. from them alone. Born in an inferior rank. and demand. without ever dreaming of posterity. nevertheless. in Measure for Measure. have formed the most favorable idea of its When those state of social culture and enlightenment. his will. It is true we know fame or ' ' very of the poet's life. and. determination to tolerate nothing which has the least reference to the sensual relation between the sexes. for example. of the happiest parts of Shakespeare's attended to. among them. which give us a peep into his family concerns. though it has been repeated a thousand times. It betrays more than ordinary deficiency of critical acumen in Shakespeare's commentators. which. he passed his life in low society. they are usually driven to this last resource. are handled with a due regard to decency. and what we do know consists for the most part of raked-up and chiefly suspicious anecdotes. many plays. has ever thought of availing himself of his sonnets for tracing .

as is proved by his juvenile poems of Adonis and Lucrece. receive an academic education. as it is said. or banished from home. it is true. He quickly rose to be a sharer or joint proprietor.88 THE GERMAN CLASSICS These sonnets paint most life. Which vulgar scandal stamp'd upon my brow. probably from mere family considerations. and also manager. the actual situation and sentiments of the unequivocally poet. and he was either enticed to London from wearisomeness of his situation. Even at a very early age he endeavored to distinguish himself as a poet in other walks than those of the stage. Our poet. they make us acquainted with the passions of the the circumstances of his man. . for my sake do you with fortune chide The guilty goddess of my harmless deeds. renewal or confirmation of his coat of arms. as he married when hardly eighteen. in the progress of his career. could not. This retired and unnoticed life he continued to lead but a few years. That he was not admitted to the society of persons of distinction is altogether incredible. Not to mention many others. which he considered at first as a degradation. It is Office for the is he extremely probable that the poetical fame which. That did not better for my life provide Than public means which public manners breeds. he found a liberal friend and kind patron * In one of his sonnets he says: 0. because of the wild excesses he was seduced by the example of his comrades. and in a diploma from the Heralds' erty. player. of the theatre for which he wrote. perhaps. he afterward acquired. styled gentleman. greatly contributed to ennoble the stage and to bring the player's profession into better repute. they even contain remarkable confessions of his youthful errors. And in the following: Your love and pity doth the impression fill. in consequence of his There he assumed the profession of a irregularities. the oldest son but third child. Shakespeare 's father was a man of propwhose ancestors had held the office of alderman and bailiff in Stratford. prin* into which cipally.

and stage-manager. who has often enjoyed the triumph of overpowering assembled crowds of spectators and drawing from them the most tumultuous applause. that he himself is published no edition of his whole works. in the last years of his too short life. which be considered sumptuous for those times. and with such distinguished proofs of respect and honor from his contemporaries. All this looks very unlike either contempt or banishment into the obscurity of a low circle. honored Shakespeare so far as to write to him with his own hand.LECTURES ON DRAMATIC ART in the 89 Earl of Southampton. player. the friend of the unfortunate Essex. What foundation then there for the contrary assertion. We do not reflect that a poet. he enjoyed in his native town in retirement and in the society of a beloved daughter. it would be singular indeed if Shakespeare. Immediately after his death a may erected over his grave. the two monarchs under whose reigns he wrote were. which would degrade the immortal artist to the situation of a daily laborer for a rude multitude? Merely this.* Many plays were acted at court and Elizabeth appears herself to have commanded the writing of more than one to be acted at her court festivals. Shakespeare acquired a . King James. quite taken with him. considerable property. By his labors as a poet. but also in great favor at court. should never have dreamed of posthumous fame. His pieces were not only the delight of the great public. according to the testi" " mony of a contemporary. notwithstanding the modesty of a great mind. it is well known. and he could say to himself with confidence that many of his productions would not easily be surpassed. always accustomed to labor immediately for the stage. monument was In the midst of such brilliant success. which. As a profound thinker he had quite accurately taken the measure of the circle of human capabilities. who the while was not de* Ben Jonson : And make That so did take Eliza those flights upon the banks of Thames. which he certainly possessed in a peculiar degree. and our James! .

We know. claimed an exclusive right to them. he may have relied on theatrical tradition for handing them down to posterity. yet reverted to him. but poet's * Our This is perhaps not uncommon still in some countries. that the poets used then to sell the exclusive copy* it is therefore not right of their pieces to the theatre that the right of property in his unprinted improbable pieces was no longer vested in Shakespeare. had not interrupted the natural order of things. or had not. we find frequent examples of such indifference. naturally cares much less for the closet of the solitary reader. and how far necessary. During the first formation of a national theatre. though he certainly boasts of them pieces of As Shakespeare. at least. The Venetian Director Medebach. Ignorance or Learning of Shakespeare of LECTURE XXIII — Costume as observed by Shakespeare. — . which would indeed as meritorious works. more especially. Of the almost innumerable Lope de Vega. from the left have been sufficient for that purpose if the closing of the theatres. composed. as it would appear on their own account and for their own advantage. or may be dispensed with the Drama — ShakesCharacter — Vindication the genuineness peare the greatest drawer of his pathos — Play on words — Moral delicacy — Irony — Mixture of the — The part of the Fool or Clown — Shakespeare's LanTragic and Comic in of guage and Versification. : His fellow-managers entered on the publication seven years after his death (which probably cut short his own intention).90 THE GERMAN CLASSICS pendent on the caprice of crotchety stage directors. on his retiring his manuscripts behind with his theatre. Shakespeare was poor in dead school-cram. and yet it is surely a very easy matter to decide. besides. and Cervantes did not printed. for whose company many of Goldoni'a Comedies were Trans. many undoubtedly were never and are consequently lost. want of scholarship has been the subject of endless controversy. fellow-managers. print his earlier dramas. but left to his own discretion to select and determine the mode of theatrical representation. under the tyrannical intolerance of the Puritans.

in other words. and even something of edge. but exhibited a visible image of the life and movement of an age prolific of great deeds. knew Shakespeare. and more particularly of that of the writers in the original. in the only manner he could wish. but a superficial acquaintance. The proofs of his ignorance. . were we to conclude that he did not. With English books. navigators respecting their peculiarity of climate and customs. while of others he inquired diligently of traveled . Romans. it had not yet assumed the appearance of dry investigations respecting the development of political relations. he makes ships visit Bohemia. on which the greatest stress is laid. finances. he has been the subject of much laughter.LECTURES ON DRAMATIC ART 91 he possessed a rich treasury of living and intuitive knowlHe knew a little Latin. French and Italian. opinions. Greek. but merely in the chronicle-style. diplomatic negotiations. he was extensively acquainted: we may safely affirm that he had read all that his native language and literature then contained that could be of any use to him in his poetical avocations. the he had. Because in a comedy founded on an earlier tale. . moreover. though it may be not enough to read with ease the With modern languages also. are a few geographical blunders and anachronisms. was a nice observer of nature he the technical language of mechanics and artisans he seems to have been well traveled in the interior of his own country. and the history of his own country was familiar to him even in detail. He thus became accurately acquainted with all the popular usages. perhaps. and traditions which could be of use in poetry.. He was sufficiently intimate with mythology to employ it. in the way of symbolical ornament. He had formed a correct notion of the spirit of Ancient History. The general direction of his mind was not to the collection of words but of facts. etc. as well . But I conceive that we should be very unjust toward him. whether original or translated. Fortunately for him it had not as yet been treated in a diplomatic and pragmatic spirit.

In the the novels on which he worked. not to learn true chronology. but he transferred both to it. the He knew well that in the forest of Ardennes there were neither the lions and serpents of the torrid zone. whatever names they bear. for the It * Ticelfth Night. the meaning of the whole is made to are. in that case. though avowedly an old Northern story. . which he transfers at will to an indefinite distance. but yet describes elsewhere. Hence in Hamlet. important particulars.. committed of set purpose and dewas frequently of importance to him to move liberately. his audience entered the theatre.92 THE GERMAN CLASSICS as ourselves. nor the shepherdesses of Arcadia. on which trait. to whom they were known. the exhibited subjects out of the background of time and bring it quite near us. take place in the true land of romance and in the very century of wonderful love stories. scene 2. I will undertake to prove that Shakespeare's anachronisms most part. however. more it ranged in a purely poetical region. He had not to do with a hair-splitting. These plays.* In such matters Shakespeare is faithful only to the details of the domestic stories. together with the discoveries of the latest navigators. maps of both Indies. by the correction of errors in secondary and un- — The more wonderful the story. He could never. with great accuracy. or What You Will — Act iii. f As You Like It. possess the useful but by no means difficult knowledge that Bohemia is nowhere bounded by the sea.f because the design and import of his picture required them. Here he considered himself entitled to take the greatest liberties. but to witness a vivid exhibition. Without those circumstantialities it would not have been allowable to make a philosophical inquirer of Hamlet. and natural history. he avoided disturbing the asnovelties sociations of his audience. and in every respect the customs of the most recent period. have looked into a map of Germany. hypercritical age like ours. there runs a tone of modish society. geography. which is always seeking in poetry for something else than poetry.

more suitable. considered : involuntarily. The present. though. He makes him study universities were not in existence. is at least acknowledged generally by the English critics. here used altogether proverbially: the contents. still grand and splendid. half out of the sheath). Yet here it is necessary to bear in mind that the Roman pieces were acted upon the stage of that day in the European dress. as Luther had taught and written there shortly before. it was of particular celebrity in Protestant England. as This does in no way not content without the toga. not so silly and tasteless as it became toward the end of the seventeenth century. perhaps. 93 On that account he mentions his education at a university. according to the testimony of an eye witness. (Brutus and Cassius appeared in the Spanish cloak they wore. in the .* it was. That Shakespeare has accurately hit the essential custom.LECTURES ON DRAMATIC ART rest. This was. it is true. quite contrary to the Roman custom. hiavelli. Faustus of Wittenberg had made it well known. drawn. namely. but many sins against external costume may be easily remarked. and no selection of a place could have been The name was very popular: the story of Dr. Machiavelli was merely the first to is The word commit them to writing. the spirit of ages and nations. agree with our way of thinking we are In one of the commendatory poems in the first folio edition: And on the stage at half sword parley were Brutus and Cassius. in the age of the true Hamlet of history. anachronism that Richard the Third should speak of Macat Wittenberg. at least. of the book entitled Of the Prince (Del Principe) have been in existence ever since the existence of tyrants. dialogue where Brutus stimulates Cassius if to the con- spiracy. the sword by their side in time of peace. . and the very name must have immediately suggested the idea I cannot even consider it an of freedom in thinking. and. is not an inappropriate place for a few general observations on costume.

a miniature illumination rejDresenting Hector's funeral procession. they thought. powerful con- A sciousness of the universal validity and the solid permanency of their own manner of being. again. Alexander. . once for all. and the Apostles in an ideal The dress. art has become rately a slop-shop for pedantic antiquities. Here they were guided by a correct feeling the mysterious and sacred ought to be kept at an awe-inspiring distance. It has never been more accuobserved than in the present day. Not that they did not know that there were as many different dresses as nations but in art they merely wished to acknowledge the great contrast between barbarian and civilized and this. where the coffin is hung with noble coats of arms and carried into a Gothic church. when they had to age. but a reflecting mind will see the subject in a very different light. In an old manuscript of the Iliad. was rendered most strikingly apparent in the Phrygian garb. In the middle ages all heroical : from Theseus and Achilles down to were metamorphosed into true tales of chivalry. the same dress. to bring them into conformity with the Greek mythology. I saw stories of antiquity. was adopted. for every barbaric tribe. It is easy to make merry with this piece of simplicity. but the human cannot be rightly understood if seen without its usual accompaniments. the Patriarchs. What was related to themselves spoke alone an intelligible language to them. but by no means poetical The ancients before us used. the Phrygian. they were the marrow . represent the religions of other nations which deviated very much from their own. but the subordinate actors or spectators of the action in the dresses of their own nation and age. : earlier Christian painters represent the Savior.94 THE GERMAN CLASSICS with reference to art. In Sculpture. This is because we live in a learned and critical. an undoubting conviction that it so to be in the world has always so been and will ever continue these feelings of our ancestors were — symptoms of a fresh fulness of life . the Virgin Mary. namely. of differences and distinctions they did not care to know.

for they. out of vanity. as an alms. without stumbling at anachronWe isms or other external inconsistencies. To that simple a poetical costume from the antiquaries. The latter impropriety is now abolished: but. and art is therefore obliged to beg. servants. wear the livery of distant centuries and foreign handling of their subject. and not a blind and wildly luxuriant genius. all that has been said on the subject a mere fable. .LECTURES ON DRAMATIC ART 95 Their plain and of action in reality as well as in fiction. generally speaking. is by no means to be confounded with the obstreperous conceit of ages of mannerism. because to them everything like noble simplicity seems boorish and rude. etc. forms of politeness. like We are everywhere at home except at home. They will measure admit of an application to Calderon. if they would hope for our approbation. our poets and artists. even a high cultivation of the mental . on a nearer consideration of the works of real excellence they may have produced. and his peculiar mental culture and knowledge. handed affectionate down from their fathers. devoid of art or school discipline. which is merely attentive to the inward way truth of the composition.. To me he appears a profound artist. Many things in Shakespeare must be judged of according to the above principles. I have always found. on the other hand. must. I consider. a blind and extravagant error. In other arts the assertion them acquired knowledge is an indisBut even in such pensable condition of clever execution. for in poets as are usually given out as careless pupils of nature. nations. are altogether unpoetical. respecting the difference between the essential and the merely learned costume. of thinking. do ourselves the justice to allow that the present mode of dressing. alas! now return but we must envy the poets to whom it offered itself it allowed them a great breadth and freedom in the . refutes itself . we cannot. attachment to everything around them. also in their So much with respect to the spirit of the age in which Shakespeare lived. introduce the fleeting modes and fashion of the day into art.

however beautiful a scene . still this very object alone and the pursuit of theatrical effect would have led him to bestow attention to the structure and adherence of his pieces. he had merely labored to please the unlettered crowd. It is from the very rapidity and certainty of the mental process. it is true. That notion of poetical . consequently. one of the most thoughtful productions of the human mind. on character and passion. like Pythia when possessed by the divinity. and. For does not the impression of a drama depend in an especial manner on the relation of the parts to one another? And. does not wear the appearance of reflex meditation. unconscious and. and wanting in that love of art which longs for self-satisfaction in the perfection of its works. on the progress of events and human destinies. in a certain sense. — on all the things and relations of the world. This applies to Homer as well as to Dante. but it by no means follows that the thinking power had not a great share in it. the person who possesses it is not always at the moment able to render an account of the course which he may have pursued. as if they were not in their senses. natural to it. So that it was only for the structure of his own pieces that he had no thought to spare ? This he left to the dominion of chance. practice in art. and views both worthy in themselves and maturely considered. which many lyrical poets have brought into circulation. delivered oracles this notion (a mere lyrical unintelligible to themselves invention) is least of all applicable to dramatic composition. The activity of genius is. for one alone of thousands of his maxims would be a sufficient refutation of any who should attempt to deny it. and deeply reflected. devoid of any ambition to approve himself to judicious critics and higher posterity. on the human constitution.96 THE GERMAN CLASSICS powers. It is admitted that Shakespeare has reflected. that thinking in a poet is not perceived as something abstracted. But supposing that. this is an admission which must be made. which blew together the atoms of Epicurus. from the utmost clearness of understanding. and. inspiration.

It was. This last is the most superficial and cheap mode of criticising works of art. of his heartrending pathos. designed to relieve the straining of the mind after the stretch of the more serious parts. display even more expenditure of thought than in the composition of individual character and situations. The English critics are unanimous in their praise of the truth and uniform consistency of his characters. so as to destroy the interest which they had hitherto felt. has stated as the correct standard for the appreciation of the poet. and which has showed itself particularly in physical science. and how very unsatisfacdoes he himself speak of the pieces considered as a torily Let any man. the prevailing tendency of the time which preceded our own. the poet . to consider everything having life as a mere accumulation of dead parts. images. who exhibited a brick as a sample of yet how little. if possible. must. otherwise he would be like the conductor of a puppet- show who has so entangled his wires that the puppets from their mechanism quite different movements from those which he actually intended. they extol the beauty and sublimity of his separate descriptions. generally speaking. and see if the aggregate will amount to that sum of admiration which he himself. . at his outset. to separate what exists only in connection and cannot otherwise be conceived.LECTURES ON DRAMATIC ART may be in itself. and his comic wit. And short characters which he gives at the close of each play. for instance. to the receive pedant in Hierocles. will it not be at once reprobated by all who possess plain sense and give themselves up to nature? The comic intermixtures may be considered merely as a sort of interlude. bring together the whole! his house. Johnson compares him who should endeavor to recommend this poet by passages unconnectedly torn from his works. if 97 yet it be at variance with what the spectators have been led to expect in its particular place. and expressions. so long as no common better purpose can be found in them but in the progress of the main action. Moreover. in the concatenation of the events.

have been especially liable to the misfortune of being misunderstood. Besides.98 THE GERMAN CLASSICS instead of penetrating to the central point and viewing all the parts as so many irradiations from it. or some partial and trite . all that cannot be recon- even a pernicious On these principles we must even strike out appendage. In an essay on Romeo and Juliet* written a number of years ago. from the very depth of purpose displayed in them. I went through the whole of the scenes in their order and demonstrated the inward necessity of each with reference to the whole. from the Greek tragedies most of the choral songs. it never looks for more than the logical connection of causes and effects. Shakespeare 's compositions. and justified the use of the occasional heightening given to the poetical colors. but are merely an harmonious echo of the impressions the In this they altogether mistake poet aims at conveying. . requires richer accompaniments and contrasts for Art and Poetry. which ciled therewith is declared superfluous. but more especially in the romantic. From all this it seemed to follow unquestionably that. the Fancy lays claims to be considered as an independent mental power governed according to its its main groups. Hence nothing is so rare as a critic who can elevate himself to the com- prehensive contemplation of a work of art. moral by way of application and . I explained the signification of the mirth here and there scattered. published by my brother and myself. for the very reason that it is and ought to be picturesque. this prosaic species of criticism that the poetic form should be applied to requires always the details of execution but when the plan of the piece is concerned. I showed why such a particular circle of characters and relations was placed around the two lovers. which. or also contribute nothing to the development of the action. In all own laws. the rights of poetry and the nature of the romantic drama. with the exception * In the first volume of Charakteristiken und Kritiken.

as plenipotentiary of the whole human race. take it which way we will. nothing added. it may be said. that he is enabled. I am reduced to confine my observations to tracing his great designs with a rapid pencil. that the char: . do the same for all the pieces of Shakespeare's maturer Here years. The distinguishing property of the dramatic poet just and valid combination — great in characterization. now become unintelligible or foreign to the present taste (imitations of the tone of society of that day). or dispenses with both. It is the power of endowing the creatures of his imagination with act such self -existent energy that they afterward act in each conjuncture according to general laws of nature the poet. It is the capability of transporting himself so is who completely into every situation. and which. and the power to express with certainty the meaning of these signs. to and speak in the name of every individual. without particular instructions for each separate case. is to know men. experiments which are received with as much authority as if they had been made on waking objects. as determined by experience and reflection. but still I must previously be allowed to deliver my sentiments in a general manner on the subject of his most eminent peculiarities. observations according to grounds of probability into a this. constitute the observer of men but tacitly to draw from these still further conclusions and to arrange the separate ' ' ' ' . is. but to do this would require a separate book. without mutilating and disI would readily undertake to figuring the perfect work. institutes. is something altogether different here. nothing otherwise arranged. The inconceivable element herein.LECTURES ON DRAMATIC ART 99 of a few criticisms. Shakespeare's knowledge of mankind has become proverbial: in this his superiority is so great that he has justly been called the master of the human heart. nothing could be taken away. either includes in it this readiness and this acuteness. even the most unusual. and what moreover can never be learned. readiness to A remark the mind's fainter and involuntary utterances. as it were. in his dreams.

speak . however. and resolve all character into nothing but the effect of foreign or external influences. and portray with the greatest accuracy (a few apparent violations of . enable us at the same time to perceive the inward springs whereby all this is accomplished. and sex. a man acts so because each man is. It not edly in earliest infancy. of the English themselves during a great part of their history. his and the rude barbarism of human characters have not only . Never perhaps was there so comprehensive a talent for characterization as Shakespeare. and yet that the poet.100 THE GERMAN CLASSICS acters appear neither to do nor to say anything on the spectator's account merely. it often announces itself most decid- After all. which. and without any subsidiary explanation. of the French in the wars with the English. while they point out the hours as correctly as other watches. and act with equal truthfulness not only does he transport himself to distant ages and foreign nations. the cultivated society of the day. might be carried at length to an extent which would abolish everything like individuality. simply by means of the exhibition. the mania of so many modern historians. Norman fore-time. that Shakespeare reveals to us most immediately: he demands and obtains our belief even for what is singular. And what only grasps every diversity of rank. the sage and the idiot. age. is more foreign to Shakespeare than a certain anatomical style of exhibition. This rage of sup- plying motives. and deviates from the ordinary course of nature. whereas we know that he is so. Hence Goethe has ingeniously compared Shakespeare's characters to watches with crystalline plates and cases. the hero and the pickpocket. down to the lispings of infancy not only do the king and the beggar. of the Southern Europeans a (in the serious part of many comedies). communicates to his audience the gift of looking into the inmost recesses of their minds. costume excepted) the spirit of the ancient Romans. which laboriously enumerates all the motives by which a man is determined to act in this or that particular manner. Nothing.

that we may embrace the infinite variety of nature in a certain order. one ingredient of the dramatic art. though existing only in the imagination. "We are lost in astonishment at the close intimacy he brings us into with the extraordinary.LECTURES ON DRAMATIC ART 101 such depth and individuality that they do not admit of being classed under common names. when the first says. peoples the air with sportive fairies and sylphs . and these beings. if the poet . and the second. calls up the midnight ghost. but at the same time they possess a significance which is not applicable to them unquestionably the alone: they generally supply materials for a profound theory of their most prominent and distinguishing propBut even with the above correction. are well known to be merely auxiliaries for the species understanding. this Prometheus not merely forms men. they are species. Pope and Johnson appear strangely to contradict each " all the characters of Shakesother. A character which should be merely of a naked general idea could neither exhibit any great The names of genera and depth nor any great variety. were there such beings. as he carries a bold and pregnant fancy into the kingdom of nature. they would so conduct themselves. and not dramatic poetry itself. nevertheless possess such truth and consistency that even with such misshapen abortions as Caliban. on the other hand he carries nature into the region of fancy which lie beyond the confines of reality. exhibits before us the witches with their unhallowed rites. and the unheard-of. and are inexhaustible even in conception: no. this opinion erty. The characters which Shakespeare has so thoroughly delineated have undoubtedly a number of individual peculiarities. must Characterization is merely still have its limitations. he opens the gates of the magical world of spirits. he extorts the assenting conviction that. In a word. the wonderful. peare are individuals. yet perhaps these opinions is may admit of reconcilia- more corPope's expression a personification rect. It would be improper in the extreme. ' ' ' ' ' ' And tion.

of all the imperceptible advantages which it there gains. he is equally deserving of it for his exhibition of passion. if we would not have it prosaic. which they have to bring is the soul which suggests to them their language. from the first origin as Lessing says. in the language of Lessing. He gives us the history of minds he lays open to us. he alone has portrayed the mental . perhaps. are thorough masters of the legal style of love. and yet not common. ' ' ' ' ' - . who. in a single word. pour or to dwell in reflection on what has taken place and in a . Hence many of the figures of Shakesexhibit merely external designations. too. a whole series of their anterior states. ' ' . every tone. from indifference or familiar mirth to the wildest rage and despair. are for the most part mere messengers. are merely raised to forth these as melodious lamentations or rejoicings. Whenever the musical or the fanciful acter at a time preponderates. determined by peare the place which they occupy in the whole: they are like secondary persons in a public procession. serious or less drama without chorus this must always be more the case. for instance. of all the stratagems by which it makes every other passion subservient to itself. with inimitable veracity. but poetical messengers: the message . Shakespeare's messengers. If Shakespeare deserves our admiration for his characters. the characteristical necessarily falls into the background. He paints. Of all the poets. as is the case with so many tragic poets. as including every mental condition. of all the slight and secret artifices by which living picture a feeling steals into our souls. till it becomes the sole tyrant of our desires and our aversions. Other voices. taking this word in its widest signification. His passions do not stand at the same height. to whose physiog- nomy we seldom pay much is attention their only importance derived from the solemnity of their dress and the duty in which they are engaged.102 THE GERMAN CLASSICS to were draw our attention to superfluous traits of charwhen it ought to be his endeavor to produce other impressions. the gradual advance a he gives. from first to last.

But energetical passions electrify all the mental powers. . when he wished. and will consequently. it is true. it may sometimes also give vent to itself in antithetical comparisons. melancholy. to which everything appears unnatural that does not consort with its own tame in- impossible. definite truth. like the clown power must strike twice on the same place. are. the censure originated of thinking.* He had not those rude ideas of his art which many moderns seem to have. sufficiently powerful emohas occasionally. * A contemporary of the poet. delirium. in 103 diseases. give utterance to themselves in ingenious and figurative expressions. yet Johnson has objected to Shakespeare that his pathos is not always natural and free from affectation. lunacy. where a too soaring imagination. who was always sure of his to excite. purposely tempered the impressions when too painful. Shakespeare. the rights of the poetical form have not been duly weighed. as if the poet. (subscribed M. natural pathos.). passages. An ancient rhetorician delivered a caution against dwelling in the proverb. and eyes in tears Both smile and weep. with such inexpresevery respect. It has been often remarked that indignation makes a man witty. With in a f anciless way Hence an idea has been formed of simple and sipidity. the author of the already-noticed poem. which consists in exclamations destitute of imagery and nowise elevated above everyday life. and as despair occasionally breaks out into laughter. in highly-favored natures.LECTURES ON DRAMATIC ART sible and. S. a too luxuriant wit. that the physician may enrich his observations from them in the same manner as from real cases. Besides. by indulging in a freer play of tions. though comparatively speaking very few. rendered a complete dramatic forgetfulness of himself this exception. . tenderly felt this when he said: Yet so to temper passion that our ears Take pleasure in their pain. fancy. where his poetry exceeds the bounds of actual And There dialogue. and immediately introduced a musical softening of our sympathy. I.

which may be traced even as far back as in the first origin of poetry. A thorough investigation would lead us too far from our subject. in the shape in which language comes down to us. an imagination which has been powerfully excited is fond of laying hold of any congruity in sound which may accidentally offer itself. a reference to his qualities and fortunes to convert it purposely into a name. that playing upon words. which. for the nonce. restore the lost resemblance between the word and the thing. merely deliver a few observations respecting the playing upon words in general. for overpowering effect. or rhyme.104 THE GERMAN CLASSICS . however arbitrarily bestowed. he said. which Shakespeare not unf requently introduces into serious and sublime passages and even into those also of a peculiarly pathetic nature. to consider this sportive play I have already stated the point of view in which we ought upon words. I shall here. As. dries so soon as tears. There is in the human mind a desire that language should exhibit the object which it denotes. The para- latter he has frequently displayed an affected tone. For example. therefore. and its relation to poetry. What to many readers might lend an appearance of truth to this assertion are the verbal witticisms. this is seldom perceptibly the case. too long on the excitation of pity for nothing. leave them almost everything that the stage has seen besides a few of their less celebrated scenes would be quite far behind . and its poetical use. how common was it and is it to seek in the name of a person. that by such means he may. by its very sound. only betray — . Those who cry out against the play upon significant words as an unnatural and affected invention. and that in the maxim without having learned it. it is unnecessary to appeal to the great tragical compositions of the poet. sufficient. sensibly. and Shakespeare acted conformably to this ingenious doxical assertion of Johnson that " Shakespeare had a greater talent for comedy than tragedy." is For its refutation. scarcely deserving of lengthy notice. etc. and too deeply into considerations on the essence of language.

it is almost more difficult to avoid. that is. which lie at the bottom of them. he sometimes makes a most opened to puerile witticism. vary with the quality of the languages. have delighted in them. in orators. the oldest written memorial of the primiown ignorance for it is other hand. On the words of the dying John of Gaunt on his own name. lest a door might be play. among whom correct ideas of the derivation and affinity of words have not yet been developed. is disgusted with the affecting play of tive world. possessing the same. should remember that the same thing occurs in the Ajax of We do not mean to say that all playing upon Sophocles. poets of a very cultivated taste. the caprice. he must . the thought appears after it is deprived of the resemblance in sound. as is well known. It is true. find that Shakespeare scribed. words is on all occasions to be justified. for my part. Hence. consequently. or nearly the same. moreover. sound. stand in the way of this In Homer we find several examples of it. been feared. words feel the of its rhyme. as well as with nations of simple manners. or Whoever. whether it will admit of such a play of fancy. Richard the Second. always evinced among children. comparisons. fnll of them. In those which possess a great number of homonymes. in Macbeth) I do hot believe a vestige of it is to be found. any more than we are to endeavor to trying how charm of rhymed versification after depriving it The laws of good taste on this subject must. This must depend on the disposition of mind. like Cicero. and allusions. lavish use of this figure at others. than to fall on such a verbal It has. to the use or the rejection of the play upon words. are. if they were not rigorously proBut I cannot. and at times (for example. he has employed it very sparingly. had such an invincible and immoderate passion for this verbal witticism. in respect . and whether the sallies. and do not.LECTURES ON DRAMATIC ART their 105 A great fondness of original nature. like Petrarch. possess internal Yet we must not proceed upon the principle of solidity. though quite different in their derivation and signification. however. Books of Moses.

and the hope of anything like powerful effect must at once and forever be renounced. Shakespeare lived in an age extremely susceptible of noble and tender impressions.106 THE GERMAN CLASSICS have been guided by the measure of the objects and the different style in which they required to be treated. as in everything else. Twice he has portrayed downright villains. If we wish to have a grand purpose. unmercifully harrows up the mind. if. and our nerves ought in some measure to accommodate themselves to painful impressions. to be checked by considerations for such persons? If the effeminacy of the present day is to serve as a general standard of what tragical composition may properly exhibit to human nature. for his art. we shall be forced to set very narrow limits indeed to art. and in that respect he is every way deserving of praise. but which had yet inherited enough of the firmness of a vigorous olden time not to shrink with dismay from every strong and We have lived to see tragedies of which forcible painting. we must also wish to have the grand means. The constant reference to a petty and puny race must cripple the boldness of the poet. . is not advisable to weak nerves. is one of greater and graver importance. He has. will bear a strict examination. and tortures even our eyes by the exhibition of the most insupportable and hateful spectacles. and the masterly way in which he has contrived to elude impressions of too painful a nature may be seen in Iago and Richard the Third. The objection that Shakespeare wounds our feelings by the open display of the most disgusting moral odiousness. and .still more the — some of his pieces. of . I allow that the reading. and probably have followed here. never varnished over wild and bloodthirsty never clothed crime and passions with a pleasing exterior want of principle with a false show of greatness of soul. by way of requital. in fact. principles which. fairly examined. Fortunately sight. who can reach an important object only by a bold and hazardous daring. our mind is thereby elevated and strengthened. more than was the Enmenides of iEschylus but is the any poet.

is with him but surface. and it is here that most dramatic Shakespeare makes each of his prinpoets are deficient. possessed at the same time the insinuating loveliness of the sweetest poesy he toys with love like a child. This is the very perfection of dramatic characterization: for we can never estimate a man's true worth if we consider him altogether abstractedly by himself. he surpasses even himself in so combining and contrasting them that they serve to bring out one anothers' peculiarities. and the . to show how Noeasily such commonplace truisms may be acquired. If the delineation of all his characters. storms the heavens and threatens to tear the world off its hinges. profound. The world of spirits and nature have laid all their treasures at his feet: in strength a demi-god. who. cipal characters the glass in which the others are reflected. .LECTURES ON DRAMATIC ART the catastrophe consists in the swoon of an if 107 enamored Shakespeare falls occasionally into the oppoprincess: site extreme. most opposite and even apparently irreconcilable properties subsist in him peaceably together. makes our hair stand on end and congeals our blood with horror. and sage maxims are not infrequently put in the mouth of stupidity. soul the utmost elevation and the utmost depth. separately con- sidered. he lowers himself to mortals as if unconscious of his supe- all-seeing wisdom a guardian riority. and by like means enables us to discover what could not What in others is most be immediately revealed to us. is inimitably bold and correct. we must see him in his relations with others. in spirit of a higher order. and his songs He unites in his die away on the ear like melting sighs. who of a gigantic strength. more terrible than ^Eschylus. Ambiguity of with much propriety he makes to overflow with the design most praiseworthy principles. and is as open and unassuming as a child. in profundity of view a prophet. Ill-advised should we be were we always to take men's declarations respecting themselves and others for sterling coin. originating in the fulness And this tragical Titan. it is a noble error.

at it only after we have had the misfortune to see human nature through and through. could unrelentingly annihilate the beautiful and irresistibly attractive scenes which his magic pen has produced. the more certainly it fails of its In every case we are conscious that the subject itself is not brought immediately before us. that he himself is not tied down to the represented subject. with which even noble minds attempt to disguise the almost inevitable influence of selfish motives in human nature." Here therefore may perceive in the poet himself. This secret irony of the characterization com- mands admiration as the profound abyss of acuteness and but it is the grave of enthusiasm. but frequently to the whole of the Most poets who portray human events in a narraaction. the poet allows us an occasional glance at the less brilliant reverse of the medal. The more tive or from zealous this rhetoric effect. however. but soars freely above it and that. dramatic form themselves take a part. which has run through the whole sphere of human existence and survived feeling. a certain cool indifference. a sort of secret understanding with the select circle of the more intelligent of his readers or spectators he shows them that he had previously seen and admitted the validity of their tacit objections. but still the indifference of a superior mind.108 THE GERMAN CLASSICS lie body ever painted so truthfully as has done the facility of self-deception. When. and after no choice remains but to adopt the melancholy truth that no virtue or greatness is altogether pure and genuine. he . if he chose." or the dangerous ' ' we error that ''the highest perfection is attainable. The irony in Shakespeare has not merely a reference to the separate characters. and exact their readers a blind approbation or condemnation of whatever side they choose to support or oppose. is. notwithstanding his power to excite the most fervent emotions. as it were. but that we view it through the medium of a different way of thinking. the half self-conscious hypocrisy toward ourselves. by a dextrous manoeuvre. We arrive sagacity. then he makes. . No .

that the merry and Act iii. that the clowns or buffoons should not occupy a more important place than that which he had assigned them: he expressly condemns the extemporizing with which they loved to enlarge their parts. and especially when the catasbetter judgment. but not tragical. to the point where the subjection of mortal beings to an inevitable destiny demands the highest degree of seriousness. Most assuredly Shakespeare did not intend thereby. in defiance to his of the multitude is humor the taste for in various pieces. to : own trophe on the stretch approaching. at other times the connection is more arbitrary and loose. The comic intervals everywhere serve to the pastime from being converted into a business. prevent to preserve the mind in the possession of its serenity. scene 2. and throughout considerable portions of others. he has abstained from all such comic intermixtures.. without confounding the eternal line of separation between good and evil. In Hamlet's directions to the players. This purpose is answered by the comic characters and scenes which are interwoven with the serious parts in most of those pieces of Shakespeare where roman- made the subject of a noble and elevating exhibition. Comedy. that in real life the vulgar * is found close to the sublime. and the mind consequently is more and no longer likely to give heed to any amusement which would distract their attention. drama. the more marvelous the invention of the whole and the more entirely it has become a light reveling of the fancy.LECTURES ON DRAMATIC ART i 109 doubt. . Frequently an intentional parody of the serious part is not to be mistaken in them. tic fables or historical events are and the more so. on this.* Johnson founds the justification of the species of drama in which seriousness and mirth are mixed. everything like irony immediately ceases but from the avowed raillery of . and to keep off that gloomy and inert seriousness which so easily steals upon the sentimental. It was also an object with him. there are a multitude of human relations which unquestionably may be considered in an ironical view. wherever the proper tragic enters.

however.110 THE GERMAN CLASSICS the sad usually accompany and succeed each other. He is highly inventive in comic situations and motives it will be hardly possible to show whence he has taken any of them. their bold raillery. in the serious part of his dramas. Shakespeare's comic talent is equally wonderful with that which he has shown in the pathetic and tragic: it stands on an equal elevation. and this circumstance invests the poet with a power to adopt this procedure. where the servants remain. these prosaic attendants must not raise their voices so high as to deafen the speakers in the presence- chamber. various. whereas. it may be said. Not only has he delineated many kinds of folly. and apparently contradictory. in the same works. in those intervals when the ideal society has retired they deserve to be listened to. may afford many an insight into the situation and circumstances of their masters. because both are found together. but even of sheer stupidity has he contrived to give a most diverting and entertaining There is also in his pieces a peculiar species of picture. The observation is in other respects just. with his serious. But it does not follow that. therefore they must not be separable in the compositions of art. that they can be made available only by a great actor and fully understood only by an acute audience. that rather. In the dramas of Shakespeare the comic scenes are the antechamber of the poetry. many of his traits are almost too nice and delicate for the stage. I only wished to guard against admitting that the former preponderated. So little is he disposed to caricature. he has generally laid hold of some well-known His comic characterization is equally true. but the mixture of such dissimilar. ingredients. can be justifiable only on principles reconcilable with the views of art which I have already described. in all that I have hitherto said. story. and possesses equal extent and profundity. because everything in the drama must be regulated by the conditions of theatrical probability. : . and profound. their presumption of mockery.

that the practice was dropped from the difficulty in finding fools able to do full justice to their parts :* on the other See Hamlet's praise of Yorick. * — — — — . but many distinguished families. For my part. the fool with his cap and bells and motley " clown. Of meaning of Shakespeare. and who generally merely exer- cises his wit in conversation with the principal persons. I am rather disposed to believe . This is a practice As full of labor as a wise man's art: For folly that he wisely shows is fit." who dress.LECTURES ON DRAMATIC ART 111 the farcical. however. check at every feather That comes before his eye. and even ecclesiastics. but. are given from the author's masterly translation. though not in tragedies. however. did not consider it beneath their dignity to recruit and solace themselves after important business with the conversation of their fools. He must observe their mood on whom he jests. Trans. In Twelfth Night. in the original work. among their other retainers. and as a welcome interruption of established formalities. and the time And like the haggard. . This is the introduction of the merrymaker. The quality of the persons. the celebrated Sir Thomas More had his fool painted along with himself by Holbein. Atjthob. In those times it was not only usual for princes to have their court fools. We may be allowed. . kept such an exhilarating house-mate as a good antidote against the insipidity and wearisomeness of ordinary life. And to do that well craves a kind of wit. Viola says: This fellow is wise enough to play the fool. called more commonly in England appears in several comedies. Great statesmen. The dismissal of the fool has been extolled as a proof of refinement and our honest forefathers have been pitied for taking delight in such a coarse and farcical amusement. which apparently seems to be introduced more arbitrarily. to observe that the last line " Doch wozu ist des Weisen Thorheit nutz ? " what use is the folly of the wise? does not convey the exact literally. Shakespeare appears to have lived immediately before the time when the custom began to be abolished in the English comic authors who succeeded him the clown is no longer to be found. of the Lear alone. is founded on imitation of some actual custom. in all. though he is also sometimes incorporated into the action. The passages from Shakespeare. but which. But wise men's folly fall'n quite taints their wit.

has become too timid to tolerate such bold irony it is always careful lest the mantle of its gravity should be disturbed in any of its folds. and he possessed a masterly skill in blending the dialogical element with the highest poetical elevation. he would not so soon afterward . his fool accompanied him in his hurried flight. defeat at Granson. they have for once Hanniballed us ! had given an ear to this warning have come to a disgraceful end. but he drew his language immediately from life itself. which cannot altogether be avoided when wit becomes a separate profession. of Burgundy. and rather than allow a privileged place to folly beside itself." t Charles the Bold. raillery. it has unconsciously assumed the part of the It ridiculous. After his Since the little * " wise men have makes a — claimed. greater show. reason. as the learned generally wrote in Latin favorable circumstance for the dramatic poet for what has he to do with the scientific language of books ? He had not — — . scene 2. the little foolery that As You Like It. somewhat obsolete. but. alas! a heavy and cheerless ridicule. I know not what cer- when they say that Shakespeare is freTo make good their assertion. and biting sarcasms which have been preserved of cele- brated court fools. I have still a few observations to make on the diction and The language is here and there versification of our poet. enough indeed to supply a whole host of ordinary wise men. Act I. is known to have frequently boasted that he wished to rival Hannibal as the greatest general of all ages. quently ungrammatical.f Shakespeare 's fools. but on the whole much less so than in a sufficient proof of the most of the contemporary writers of his choice. Prose had as yet been but little goodness a cultivated. but studied.* would be easy to make a collection of the excellent sallies . tain critics mean.112 THE GERMAN CLASSICS hand. have for the most part an incomparable humor and an infinite abundance of intellect. along with somewhat of an overstraining for wit. with all its conceit of itself. It is well known that they frequently told such truths to princes as are never now told to them. your Grace. the earlier English poets. they must prove that similar constructions never occur in wit that fools have was silenced. and ex" " If the Duke Ah. only read.

is the poet to be made The English language had not then answerable for it? attained to that correct insipidity which has been introduced into the more recent literature of the country. and if this has since changed. We may still perceive traces of awkwardness. nay. In general. Many scenes are wholly in prose. shoots. so the poetical diction of the ran occasionally into extravagance. too great fondness for compressed brevity. His images and figures. in their unsought. but more frequently alternating with No one piece is written entirely in prose for even prose. On all he has impressed the stamp of his mighty spirit. in those which approach the most to the pure Comedy. is ical" always something added which gives them a more poethue than usually belongs to this species. much is always left to the caprice of custom. the direct contrary of 113 which can. along with the fruitful ever. Shakespeare's style yet remains the very best model. perhaps. rv— 8 . howIn no language is everything determined on principle. there . and accoutreVol. both in the In vigorous and sublime. in all his plays is generally the rhymeless iambic of ten or eleven syllables. to the prejudice. and the pleasing and tender.LECTURES ON DRAMATIC ART his contemporaries. This can appear an impropriety only in the eyes of those who are accustomed to consider the lines of a drama like so many soldiers drawn up rank and file on a parade. but nowhere of a labored and spiritless display of art. arms. have often a sweetness altoHe becomes occasionally obscure from gether peculiar. the labor of poring over Shakespeare's lines will invariably meet an ample requital. be easily shown. has exhausted all the means and appliances his sphere he of language. many luxuriant weeds. of its originality. uncapricious singularity. but still. in others verse and prose succeed each other alternately. only occasionally inter- The verse mixed with rhymes. As a field when first brought under the plough produces. but an extravaday gance originating in the exuberance of its vigor. with the same uniform.

elevated above the usual tone. wherever it is possessed. of the artificial elegancies of education and a universal right of man. speak. or. and at others in the lowest. the nobility of nature and morality is ennobled above the artiNot infrequently also he makes ficial nobility of society. before they can receive amusement from the jokes of others. in the tone of their actual life. In the use of verse and prose Shakespeare observes very nice distinctions according to the ranks of the speakers. of the highest as well as the lowest. peasants. the very same persons express themselves at times in the sublimest language. However. what surely cannot dishonor even a hero. inward dignity of sentiment. sailors. but more especially his fools and clowns. but still more according to their characters and disposition of mind. belongs naturally more to them than to the lower. give elevation and tension to the soul: it collects all its powers and exhibits an unusual energy. so that when we see one or two we may represent to ourselves thousands as being every way like them. however. for that end. and therefore. . On the other hand. and stands not in need. almost without exception. and prose. soldiers. both in its operations and in its communications by language. invariably displays itself with a nobleness of its own. and this manner founded in truth. is suitable only to a certain decorum of manners. which is thrown over both vices and virtues and which does not even wholly disappear amidst the violence of passion. Extraordiwhich intensely occupy the head and throw nary situations. in Shakespeare. distributed among the characters. even the greatest men have their moments of remissness. are in this manner Hence his tradesmen. and hence also. If this is not exclusively possessed by the higher ranks. when to a certain inequality is in like degree they forget the dignity of their character in unreThis very tone of mind is necessary served relaxation. servants. from passing .114 THE GERMAN CLASSICS ments. mighty passions into play. dignity and familiarity of language. custom it is. A noble language. poetry. it still. in Shakespeare.

which may always be traced even in the continued discourses of individuals. in the very same speech makes the speaker leave prose for poetry. They never fall out of the dialogical character. Others. Of all the poet's serious leadjokes of the grave-digger. characters there is none so rich in wit and humor as ing Hamlet hence he it is of all of them that makes the greatest use of the familiar style. in short. or because a uniform seriousness is natural to them. The choice of the one form or the other is everywhere so appropriate. even where the poet . go carejokes themselves. again. and not. for example.LECTURES ON DRAMATIC ART 115 Let any person. never do fall into it. through the part of Hamlet. this could not be altered without danger of injuring or destroying some beauty or other. and even enters into the . between plain prose and the rhyming Alexandrines. when he has to do with persons whose station demands from him such a line of conduct when he makes game of Polonius and the courtiers. it admits of approximation to the familiar style of conversation. because through the whole piece they are under the dominion of a passion calculated to excite. like the sorrow of Hamlet. he he thunders into the soul of his mother! when he spurs himself on How lowers his tone down to that of common life. always varied and suitable to the subject. How bold and powerful fully the language of his poetry when he conjures the ghost of his father. at another they move along with ponderous energy. They are a complete model of the dramatic use of this species of . either because they are constantly surrounded by the pomp of rank. instructs the player. when to the bloody deed. or. excepting when the latter run into the lyrical. and never forms such an abrupt contrast as that. or the converse. The blank verse has this advantage. that I will venture to assert. Shakespeare 's iambics are sometimes highly harmonious and full-sounding. and so much founded in the nature of the thing. for example. to depress the mind. that its tone may be elevated or lowered. at one time distinguished by ease and rapidity.



verse, which, in English, since Milton, has been also used in epic poetry; but in the latter it has assumed a quite different turn. Even the irregularities of Shakespeare's
versification are expressive a verse broken off, or a sudden change of rhythmus, coincides with some pause in the progress of the thought, or the entrance of another mental dis;

As a proof that he purposely violated the position. mechanical rules, from a conviction that a too symmetrical versification does not suit with the drama, and, on the stage has in the long run a tendency to lull the spectators
that his earlier pieces are the most and that, in the later works, when diligently versified, through practice he must have acquired a greater facility, we find the strongest deviations from the regular structure
to sleep,

we may observe

of the verse.



served with him merely to make the

poetical elevation perceptible, he therefore claimed the utmost possible freedom in the use of it.

The views or suggestions of feeling by which he was guided in the use of rhyme may likewise be traced with almost equal certainty. Not infrequently scenes, or even single speeches, close with a few rhyming lines, for the purpose of more strongly marking the division, and of givThis was injudiciously imitated by ing it more rounding.
the English tragic poets of a later date; they suddenly elevated the tone in the rhymed lines, as if the person began

at once to speak in another language.

The practice was

welcomed by the actors from
clapping when they


their exit.

serving as a signal for In Shakespeare, on

the other hand, the transitions are more easy all changes of forms are brought about insensibly, and as if of them-

generally fond of heightening a series of ingenious and antithetical sayings by the use of rhyme. We find other passages in continued rhyme, where solemnity and theatrical pomp were suitable, as, for inselves.

Moreover, he


stance, in the mask,* as
* " I shall

it is

called, in

The Tempest and



drama when

take the opportunity of saying a few words respecting this species I come to speak of Ben Jonson.



play introduced in Hamlet. Of other pieces, for instance, the Midsummer Night's Dream, and Romeo and Juliet, the rhymes form a considerable part either because he may have wished to give them a glowing color, or because the characters appropriately utter in a more musiIn these cases cal tone their complaints or suits of love. he has even introduced rhymed strophes, which approach The to the form of the sonnet, then usual in England.

assertion of Malone, that Shakespeare in his youth was fond of rhyme, but that he afterward rejected it, is sufficiently refuted by his own chronology of the poet's works. In some of the earliest, for instance in the second and third

part of




the Sixth, there are hardly any rhymes in stated to be his last piece, Twelfth Night, or

and in Macbeth, which is proved to have been composed under the reign of King James, we find them in no inconsiderable number. Even in the secondary matters of form Shakespeare was not guided by humor and accident, but, like a genuine artist, acted invariably on good and solid grounds. This we might also show of the kinds of verse which he least frequently used (for instance, of the rhyming verses of seven and eight syllables), were we not afraid of dwelling too long on merely technical

What You

In England the manner of handling rhyming verse, and the opinion as to its harmony and elegance, have, in the course of two centuries, undergone a much greater change

than is the case with the rhymeless iambic or blank verse. In the former, Dryden and Pope have become models these writers have communicated the utmost smoothness to rhyme, but they have also tied it down to a harmonious uniformity. foreigner, to whom antiquated and new are the same, may perhaps feel with greater freedom the advantages of the more ancient manner. Certain it is, the rhyme of the present day, from the too great confinement of the couplet, is unfit for the drama. We must not estimate the rhyme of Shakespeare by the mode of subsequent times, but by a




comparison with his contemporaries or with Spenser. The comparison will, without doubt, turn out to his advantage. Spenser is often diffuse; Shakespeare, though sometimes He has more frehard, is always brief and vigorous. quently been induced by the rhyme to leave out something necessary than to insert anything superfluous. Many of
tive ease,

his rhymes, however, are faultless: ingenious with attracand rich without false brilliancy. The songs

interspersed (those, I mean, of the poet himself) are genand altogether musical; in imaginawhile we merely read them, we hear their melody. tion,
erally sweetly playful

The whole of Shakespeare 's productions bear the certain stamp of his original genius, but yet no writer was ever further removed from everything like a mannerism derived from habit or personal peculiarities. Rather is he, such is the diversity of tone and color which vary according to
the quality of his subjects he assumes, a very Proteus. Each of his compositions is like a world of its own, moving
in its


of art, finished in one which revealed the freedom and judicious choice of their author. If the formation of a work throughout, even in its minutest parts, in conformity with a leading idea; if the domination of one animating spirit over all



They are works


execution, deserves the name of correctness (and this, excepting in matters of grammar, is the only proper sense of the term) ; we shall then, after allowing to


means of

Shakespeare all the higher qualities which demand our admiration, be also compelled, in most cases, to concede to him the title of a correct poet. It would be in the highest degree instructive to follow, if we could, in his career step by step, an author who at once

founded and carried his art to perfection, and to go through his works in the order of time. But, with the exception of few fixed points, which at length have been obtained, all a
the necessary materials for this are



has, indeed, made an attempt to arrange diligent the plays of Shakespeare in chronological order; but he




himself gives out only the result of his labors as hypothetical, and it could not possibly be attended with complete success, since he excluded from his inquiry a considerable number of pieces which have been ascribed to the poet,

though rejected as spurious by all the editors since Rowe, but which, in my opinion, must, if not wholly, at least in great measure be attributed to him.


By Calvik Thomas
Professor of Germanic Languages



Columbia University

in 1799,

Lucinda, published

ism — a rather violent explosion which

was an explosion of youthful




It is

a book about the meta-

physics of love and marriage, the emancipation of the flesh, the ecstasies and follies of the enamored state, the nature

and the rights of woman, and other such matters of which the world was destined to hear a great deal during the
nineteenth century. Not by accident, but by intention, the little book was shocking, formless, incoherent a riot of the ego without beginning, middle, or end. Now and then it passed the present limits of the printable in its exploita-

tion of the improper and the unconventional. Yet the book was by no means the wanton freak of a

prurient imagination; it had a serious purpose and was believed by its author to present the essentials of a new and beautiful theory of life, art and religion. The great
Schleiermacher, one of the profoundest of German theologians and an eloquent friend of religion, called Lucinda divine book and its author a a priest of love and " " is wisdom." Everything in this work," he declared, at once human and divine; a magic air of divinity rises
i '
' ' ' '

deep springs and permeates the whole temple." man in his senses would praise the book in such terms. Yet, with all its crudities of style and its aberrations of taste, Lucinda reveals, not indeed the whole form and pressure of the epoch that gave it birth, but certain



Today no

very interesting aspects of


Then, too,


marks a curious


Permission E. Linde


Co., Berlin




stage in the development ck profound thinker and one 01




of his day. This explains why a considerable portion of the much discussed book is here presented for the first time in an Eng-



lish dress.


Greek literature, a field which he In cultivated with enthusiasm and with ample learning. interested in what his Greek poets and particular he was philosophers had to say of the position of women in society; of the hetairai as the equal and inspiring companions of men; of a more or less refined sexual love, untrammeled by law and convention, as the basis of a free, harmonious and beautiful existence. Among other things, he seems to have been much impressed by Plato 's notion that the genus homo was one before it broke up into male and female, and
a desire to restore the lost unity. In a very learned essay On Diotima, published in 1797 Diotima is the woman of whose relation to Socrates we
that sexual attraction

earliest writings relate to in 1772

of Friedrich Schlegel

— he


get a glimpse in Plato's
' '


— there




foreshadows Lucinda. What is uglier than the overloaded femininity, what is more loathesome than the exaggerated masculinity, that rules in our customs, our opinions, and even in our better " ei art? Precisely the tyrannical vehemence of the man, the flabby self-surrender of the woman, is in itself an ugly " Only the womanhood that is independexaggeration." " the manhood that is gentle, is good and beautiful. ent, only In 1796 Friedrich Schlegel joined his brother at Jena, where Fichte was then expounding his philosophy. It was

Let two or three sentences


system of radical idealism, teaching that the only reality the absolute Ego, whose self-assertion thus becomes the fundamental law of the world. The Fichtean system had not yet been fully worked out in its metaphysical bearings, but the strong and engaging personality of its author gave To it, for a little while, immense prestige and influence. Friedrich Schlegel it seemed the gospel of a new era

a sort of Frenv


philosophy. Indeed he proclaimed that the three & j.caiest events of the century were the French Revolution, Fichte's philosophy, and Goethe's Whelm Meister. This last, which appeared in 1796 and contained obvious elements of autobiography, together with poems and disquisitions on this and that, was admired by him beyond all measure. He saw in it the exemplar and the program of a wonderful new art which he proposed " Romantic to call Poetry." But gray theory would never have begotten Lucinda. Going to Berlin in 1797, Schlegel made the acquaintance of Dorothea Veit, daughter of Moses Mendelsohn and wife of a Berlin banker. She was nine years his senior. A attachment grew up between them, and presently strong the lady was persuaded to leave her husband and become the paramour of Schlegel. Even after the divorce was obtained Schlegel refused for some time to be married in church, believing that he had a sort of duty to perform in asserting the rights of passion over against social conFor several years the pair lived in wild wedlock vention. In 1808 they both before they were regularly married. joined the Catholic Church, and from that time on nothing more was heard of Friedrich Schlegel 's radicalism. He came to hold opinions which were for the most part the The exact opposite of those he had held in his youth. vociferous friend of individual liberty became a reactionary champion of authority. Of course he grew ashamed of Lucinda and excluded it from his collected works.


Such was the soil in which the naughty book grew. It was an era of lax ideas regarding the marriage tie. Wilhelm Schlegel married a divorced woman who was destined in due time to transfer herself without legal formalities to Goethe had set the example by his conscience Schelling.
marriage with Christiane Vulpius. It remains only to be said that the most of Friedrich Schlegel 's intimates, including his brother Wilhelm, advised against the publication of Lucinda. But here, as in the matter of his marriage,

the author felt that he


had a dut>



was neces-

independence of Mrs. Grundy's tyranny and shock people for their own good. But the reader of today will feel that the worst shortcomings of the book are not
sary to declare

It will be
' '

immoralities, but its sins against art. observed that while Lucinda
' '





author a it hardly deserves that name. There is novel, no story, no development of a plot. The book consists of disconnected glimpses in the form of letters, disquisitions, rhapsodies, conversations, etc., each with a more or less one cannot suggestive heading. Two of these sections call them chapters are omitted in the translation, namely,











By Friedrich Schlegel

with emotion Petrarch opens the colof his immortal romanzas with a The clever Boccaccio prefatory survey. talks with flattering courtesy to all women, both at the beginning and at the end of his opulent book. The great Cervantes too, an old man in agony, but still genial and full of delicate wit, drapes the



motley spectacle of his lifelike writings with the costly tapestry of a preface, which in itself is a beautiful and romantic painting. Uproot a stately plant from its fertile, maternal soil, and there will still cling lovingly to it much that can seem superfluous only to a niggard. But what shall my spirit bestow upon its offspring, which,
like its parent, is as

poor in poesy as

it is

rich in love ?

It is not alone the royal Just one word, a parting trope who may despise the croaking of the raven the swan, too, is proud and takes no note of it. Nothing concerns him except to keep clean the sheen of his white pinions. He thinks only of nestling against Leda's bosom without hurt-



ing her, and of breathing forth into song everything that is mortal within him.

Bielefeld and Leipzig MORITZ VON SCHWIND THE CREATION .Permission Velhagen & Klasing.


I gazed and enjoyed it all.CONFESSIONS OF AN AWKWARD MAN Julius to Luctnda UMAN all beings and what they want and do. [125] . or for your eyes. From in all those blendings from which spring the ing fire — spiritual pleasure as well as sensual and intertwinings of joy and pain spice of life and the flower of feelbliss. the white blossoms and the golden fruit. to me. Even if this world is not the Smiling I said to myself ' ' : best and most useful of places. ' ' it is certainly the most thought nothing could have turned me. and to cool the sweet fire by gratification. when I thought of it. and now as a dignified mother with her demure babe in her arms. A fresh. but in the holy solitude seemed around me everything was light and color. warm breath of life and love fanned me. I breathed the spring and I saw clearly all about me everlasting youth. not of holding you in my arms it was not only . neither general despair nor personal fear. now as a young lady in the full bloom and energy of love and womanhood. or for your body. What I dreamed was not of kissing you. A subtle flowed through my veins. no. since I was not particularly in a mood for mental synthesis and analysis. motionless figures. rustling and stirring in all the branches of the verdant grove. like gray. the wish to relieve the tormenting sting of my desire. It was not for your lips that I longed. But I gladly lost myself this feeling or . my one and only Beloved. too. But I really did not think very much about it. beautiful. And in my mind's eye I saw. For I believed that the deep secrets of nature were being revealed to me I felt that everything was immortal and that death was only a pleasant illusion. now as a little girl. in many forms. the rich green.

My vision doubtless owes the grove and its southern color-effect to the huge mass of flowers here beside me. You are so extraordinarily clever. pass away into the distance and lose themselves in the immeasurable. I was standing by the window and looking out into the open the morning certainly deserves to be called beautiful. I completely forgot about the lapse of time. and that I am now sitting here and doing something something which is perhaps little more than nothing. all an illusion. that you have doubtless long ere is all this begun to suspect that this so. dear friend. it is. dearest Lucinda. The truth of the matter is this how long I do not know. All the mysteries of caprice in man and woman seemed to hover about me. All the rest — haps even less. I was standing by the window and doing nothing.126 it THE GERMAN CLASSICS was a romantic confusion of all of these things. I was standing by the window for along with the other rules of reason and morality. I not only enjoyed. so that not one should escape me to impair the harmony. among which I see a large number is readily explained by psychology. silvery river winds along in great bends and sweeps. nothing but a beautiful dream. all except that. and were the common pulse of our united life. cradled upon it like the swan. not long ago. dales. alas. and the verdure here before me is fresh. so the calm. And yet with calm presence of mind I watched for the slightest sign of joy in you. per- of oranges. And even as the wide land undulates in hills and And — : . broad. Wit and ecstasy now began their alternating play. Well. It was an illusion. when suddenly in my solitude your real presence and the glowing rapture in your face completely set me afire. until it and the lover's fantasy. the air is still and quite warm. I besought you to yield to my frenzy and implored you to be insatiable. and I should indeed feel very disconsolate about it if I could not cherish the hope that at least a part of it may soon Not long ago be realized. but I felt and enjoyed the enjoyment. a marvelous mingling of memories and desires. . There was no less abandon than religion in our embrace.

I can never look back upon without a great deal of inward amusement. in the wrong place. So I use my incontestable right to a confused style by inserting here. It was written in a mood of impatient longing. and to confess to you the manifold effects of my awkwardness. I was about to describe the apprenticeship of my manhood. in its way. unique letter would then acquire an intolerable and monotony. and considerable self-satisfaction. carefully preserved without my knowing it. I will endeavor to refashion the coarse occurrence For me and for this book. so incessantly progressive and so inflexibly If the form were also of that character. one of the filled many incoherent sheets which I once with rubbish. and would no longer produce the unity desired effect. the material which our life and love offers to my spirit and it. to my pen is systematic. however. this. a period which. due to my not finding you where I most surely expected to . when. namely. and which you. I was just on the point of unfolding to you in clear and precise periods the exact and straightforward history of our frivolities and of my dulness. in accordance with natural laws. inasmuch as confusion.LUCINDA I 127 I had written thus far to you about the things had said to myself. a little melancholy. to fashion and complete a most lovely chaos of sublime harmonies and interesting pleasures. namely. for my love of it and for its inner development. it to my purpose. my tender thoughts and profound feelings about the dramatic connection of our embraces. Still. step by step. that right at the start I begin by abolishing what and adapt we call orderly arrangement. good creature. keep myself entirely aloof from frankly claiming and asserting the right to a charming This is all the more necessary. I was going to expound to you. there is no better adaptation of means to ends than this. taken as a whole or in parts. in the midst of the misunderstandings that attack the hidden centre of the loveliest existence. a coarse and unpleasant occurrence interrupted me. as a refined lover and writer.

namely. the old and daring idea of my dearest and most intimate purpose! In you it has grown up. cate traits and utterances of the soul. The extremes of unbridled gayety and of quiet presentiment live together within me. among the dreamy fancies which are here confided to you in permanent letters. which to one who does its not know the highest seem like bliss itself. — — For once we know ful world. Only here I see myself in harmonious completeness. It looks at me joyously out of deep eyes and opens its arms to embrace The holiest and most evanescent of those delimy spirit. and has a certain sort of resemblance to what they call thought. For your spirit. are merely the common atmosphere of our spiritual breath and life. not as an apparition which appears and fades away again. on our sofa in the haphazard you words suggested by the pen you had lately been using. but big tear falls A as one of the forms that endure forever. Furthermore. in this throng of impressions I could only repeat anew the one inexhaustible feeling of our original harmony. great future beckons me on into the immeasurable.128 find THE GERMAN CLASSICS in your room. I remember everything. and in this mirror I do not shrink from loving and admiring myself. stands distinct and perfect before me. either through ourselves or through others. How faithfully and how simply you have sketched it. Dithyrambic Fantasy on the Loveliest of Situations upon the holy sheet which I found here instead of you. too. about the most lovely situation in this most beautiations. each idea A develops a countless progeny. The selection is not difficult. For since. and all my thoughts that have been and are to be bestir themselves and arise . even the griefs. the recollection of this most beautiful world is the most significant. I choose in preference to anything else a dithyrambic fantasy on the most lovely of situto a certainty that we live in a most beautiful world. to inform ourselves fully. the next need is obvious. The words are weak and vague.

my was friendship especially that I sought for what I and for what I never hoped to find in any woman. why you regard everything in such a large and indifferent way. In you I found it all. And then again I suddenly and sadly bethink me of the gloomy time when I was always waiting without hope. I should have thought it all a fairy-tale that there could be such joy. I am all yours. and madly loving without knowing it when my innermost being overflowed with a vague longing. consists in its regarding life and love as the same thing. and fancy seeks vainly among the many forms of joy for one which might at last gratify my desire and give it rest. you recognize no separations. For you all feeling is infinite and eternal. all of me. if it is only surrounded. Oh. who could be my most tender Beloved. and at the same time a perfect friend. would seem to me nothing but a charming antithesis to the sublime frivolity of our marriage. and will surrender no part of me to the state. aside from minor peculiarities. from the utmost wantonness to the most refined spirituality. we are closest to each other and we understand each other. veins. such love as I now feel. to in . For it . your being is an indivisible unity. like our love. Of what custom or caprice calls womanly. IV —9 . are immortal? I can no longer say my love and your love. or to manly pleasures. That is why you are so serious and so joyous. you know nothing. wanted. You accompany me through all the stages of manhood. which it breathed forth but rarely in half-suppressed sighs. and more than I could wish for but you are so unlike the rest. without separating us. that is why you love me. my best companion. Why should we not take the harshest whim of chance for an excellent jest and a most frolicsome caprice. they are both alike in their perfect mutuVol. The womanliness of your soul. since we.LUCINDA before me. 129 my The blood rushes wildly through my swollen mouth thirsts for the contact of your lips. In you alone I first saw true pride and true feminine humility. and such a woman. posterity. The most extreme suffering.

let us live and love. as single nates the darkness of the future with its bright lustre." With these words I hurriedly quaffed the wine. every thought. perhaps. impelled by a mad law. And then again come moments of sudden and universal clarity. I to sparkle. if it seemed the proper time. The time is coming when we two shall behold in one spirit that we are for too. just as gladly and just as easily as that last glass of champagne we drank together. One thing crowds out another. the other side. when I said: "And so let us drink out the rest of our lives. and many a forgotten bit of our ego shines forth in a new light and even illumiplete in itself. And moments of the profoundest and when all lives fall together and consciousness. As it is in a small way. before its noble spirit ceased And so I say again. . Therefore. indivisible. seems to be com- On and indivisible as a person. an indivisible feeling. or petals of one flower. so long as we live. but for the one. mingle and separate in a different way. in a large way. We shall then know with a smile that what we now call merely hope was really memory. true. I often wonder over it. him there come. longing will be more completely realized. and whatever else is fashioned within us. inner. constraining purpose of which desecrates and destroys the most delicate sanctities of the will. I would drain with you a cup of poison. when several such spirits of the inner world completely fuse together into a wonderful wedlock. immortal man only a single idea. THE GERMAN CLASSICS Marriage is the everlasting unity and alliance of not only for what we call this world and that our spirits. even as the women of India do. That which we call a life is for the complete. the cruel. fullest blossoms of one plant. world. I think. know you would not wish to survive me you would . rather follow your dying husband into his coffin. and that which just now was near and present soon sinks back into obscurity.130 ality. Gladly and lovingly would you descend into the burning abyss. nameless. so is it also. endless world of our entire being.

That was thought of I it my dithyrambic fantasy on the loveliest I it situ- ation in the loveliest of worlds. when presence itself is to us. . like an echo. yes. do you know. too present? We have to cool and miti- gate the consuming fire with jests. here in this little book. One among all is at once the wittiest and the loveliest: when we exchange roles and with childish delight try to see who can best imitate the other. doubles the happiness of its gentle parents. surrounding objects con- against my my longing grew again irresistible. in which you expect to find genuine history. It is not tion of revenge. just as a child. Nothing can part us and certainly any separation would only draw me more powerfully to you. whether you succeed best with the tender vehemence of a man. this sweet game has for me quite other charms than its own. as it were. Suppose words or a human being to create a misunderstanding between us! The poignant grief would be of it me But then transient and quickly resolve itself into complete harmony. and how you took right well what you at that time. How could separation separate us. But. and thus for us the most witty of the forms and situations of joy is also the most beautiful.LUCINDA Do you know how soul before 131 the first seed of this idea germinated in and took root in yours f Thus does the you my religion of love weave our love ever and ever more closely and firmly together. plain truth know and calm reason. I bethink me how at our last embrace. I tried to calm myself. and in a sort of bewilderment I would not believe that I . until on its wings I sank back into your arms. And I think know just as well what you will think of it and how you will take it here. I burst into simultaneous tears and laughter. merely the delight of exhaustion or the anticipaI see in it a wonderful and profoundly significant allegory of the development of man and woman * * * into complete humanity. was separated from you vinced until the will. you vehemently resisting. or I with the yielding devotion of a woman.

the charming morality of love. which ought only to be felt ? replied a man feels it. not from the viewpoint of any one-sided theory. I wanted first to demonstrate to you that there exists in the original and essential nature of man a certain awkward enthusiasm which likes to utter boldly that which is delicate and holy.132 THE GERMAN CLASSICS even morality. This apology would indeed save me. impartial way. whom I love most tenderly. and sometimes falls headlong over its own honest zeal and speaks a word that is divine to the point of : ' ' coarseness. two years old? The strongest of the many strong proofs of her inward perfection is her serene self-complacency. Then she straightens up and with the most vivid expression of irony on her face. and what a man wishes to talk about he may write. and resting her cunning head on them with amusing seriousness. She is full of buffoonery and monious culture in people . he must wish to talk about it. smiles at her own cuteness and our inferiority. So I attempt a little sketch of her character. she makes big eyes and casts cute glances at the family all around her. Meantime I will by no means make common cause with them. but will rather excuse and defend my liberty means of the example of the since she too is a lady will straightway little and audacity by innocent Wilhelmina. in a and it is perhaps large. but perhaps only at the enormous expense of my manhood itself for whatever you may think of my manhood in particular. but. After she has eaten she always spreads both her little arms out on the table. " How can a man wish to write anything which it is scarcely permissible " I " If to talk about. And that is years indeed saying a great deal for how seldom do we find har- — — . Sketch of Little Wilhelmina When one regards the remarkable child. you have . as is proper. one can boldly say the best thing one could possibly say of her that for her she is the cleverest person of her time. nevertheless a great deal against the sex in general.

as she pressed an affection- and animate. all mixed together in a persons. . wholesome to its original. I think. while grasping affords only imperfect. to watch her feel of it and strive to orient The herself by means of those antennae of the reason. and impede the free For her fancy everything in nature is alive I often recall with pleasure the first divine felt of a doll. The ugly cacophony of our mother-tongue here in the north melts on her tongue into the sweet and mellow euphony of Italian and Hindu speech. On the other hand. peneto lift to his reduce it A trate into its interior and bite it to pieces. mediate knowledge. And she does all that without any qualifications or artistic transitions. smile lighted up her little face. Nevertheless it is a very interesting spectacle. all her favorite little verses a classic selection of her little pleasures. She was not more than a year old. she has far more inclination than for philosophy.LUCINDA 133 has a nice appreciation of it. events. after the other. so also she likes to ride better than to walk. when a bright child catches sight of another child. as of everything else that is beautiful she never grows tired of saying and singing over and over again to herself. every word a picture. Poetry binds the blossoms of all things together into a light garland. When I imitate her gestures. — — after all only aid the understanding flight of the fancy. one as it were. and so little Wilhelmina talks in rhyme about regions. and hides himself. Surely there lies deep in the nature of man an impulse to eat anything he loves. times. while strange baby creeps quietly away . which last she does only in case of necessity. For poetry. she immediately copies my imitation thus we have created a mimic language of our own and make each other understand by means of pantomime hieroglyphics. which . constituent parts. toys and things to eat romantic chaos. time she ever saw and A ate kiss on the painted wooden lips. She is especially fond of rhymes. if possible. touching stops at the surface. mouth every new object and there. thirst for knowledge impels him to seize the object.

But. perhaps. does not belong here. by Heaven.* is correct. provided only that the costume off — should like to relate to you here one of my waking dreams. an ideal which I would ever keep before my eyes. cast it from you. however. this little romance of my life should seem to you too wild. there that I ! . For this sketch proposes merely to portray an ideal. just think to yourself: He and take his innocent wantonness with is only a child motherly forbearance and let him caress you. And if. — . in seeking for morality in for delicacy and prettiness of thought and word? children the audacious liberties that I Am — Now look! Dear little Wilhelmina often finds inexpres- sible delight in lying on her back and kicking her little legs in the air. If you will not be too particular about the plausibility and inner significance of an allegory. wit and originality are just as rare in children as in adults. or at least be able to judge them from a higher viewpoint. am a man and may under no obligation to be more modest than this most modest of all feminine creatures? Oh. your odious clothes and scattered them about in lovely anarchy. I * Here follows." Translator's Note. all the remnants of false modesty just as I have often torn judgment of the world. to be sure. you I wrong. too. since I. and is leading me beyond the bounds of my purpose. enviable freedom from prejudice Do you. what is not do. dear friend. unconcerned about her clothes or about the If Wilhelmina does that. and so that you will forgive me in advance for artistic will am going to take. in the original.134 the little THE GERMAN CLASSICS philosopher follows him up and goes busily on with her manual investigation. inasmuch as it leads to the same result as my sketch of little Wilhelmina. mind. so that in this little volume of beautiful and elegant philosophy I may not wander away from the delicate line of propriety. All this. and are prepared for as much awkwardness in it as one might expect in the confessions of an awkward man. think you. a so-called "Allegory of Impudence.

as hitherto. and a god hath planted all sorts of melodies in my soul. whom indeed should I rather talk and think about idleness than with myself. So I spoke also in that immortal hour now that I when my guardian genius inspired me to preach the high of true joy and love gospel Oh. They might also have enticed me to lose myself deeper and deeper in the inner perspective of my mind. in the comic side of Fate 's inevitable and unchangeable decree that separate after the power of my reason. thou sacred jewel. like a pensive maiden in a thoughtless romance. and of finding pleasure. idleness Thou art the very soul of innocence and inspiration. This I may boldly say.LUCINDA An " Idyl of Idleness ' ' 135 Behold. The ' ' : ! blessed spirits do breathe thee." When I thus communed with myself I was sitting. charmed . by the side of a brook. of the possibility of a lasting embrace. I listened eagerly to all the motley fairy-tales with which imagination we must. I am my own teacher. were not my nature so perpetually unselfish and practical that even my speculations never concern themselves about anything but the general good. did I give myself over to a stream of thoughts. thou sole and only fragment of godlikeness brought forth by us from Paradise. my mind was fell to thinking. And with poetry. I thought out ways of prolonging the time of our being together and of avoiding in the future those childishly pathetic expressions of pain over sudden part- So I ing. idleness. laboring over the unattainableness of my ideal. They flowed by as smooth and quiet and sentimental as if Narcissus were about to see his reflection on the clear surface and become intoxicated with beautiful egoism. And only and desire. broke and relaxed. and blessed indeed is he who hath and cherisheth thee. among other things. while relaxed by a comfortable laziness and my limbs by the powerful heat. watching the wavelets as they passed. am not talking about the joyous science of but about the godlike art of idleness. like irresistible sirens in my breast.

although I well knew that it was for the most part a beautiful lie. and to begin for you this poem of truth. Like a wise man of the East. we would both sink back into the blissful lap of half-conscious selfforgetfulness. But ere the wanton play thus begun was ended. I gratefully observed this and resolved to repeat for us in the future by my own inventiveness that which good fortune had given me. Greatness in repose. of leisure. The soft music of the fantasy seemed to fill the gaps in my longing. And so. in that respect as in others! How they vie with one another in praise of solitude. I thought out and bodied forth our everlasting substances in this dignified style. of liberal freedom from care and of inactivity! And they are right in doing so. Why are gods gods. and wake up just enough to venture a jesting remark and a gentle caress. I looked back and saw how gentle sleep overcame us in the midst of our embrace. They have probably never slept. except because they deliberately do nothing. And thus the original germ of this wonderful growth of caprice and love came into being. for everything that is good and beautiful in life is already there and maintains itself by its own strength. most people say. is the highest aim of plastic art. I had fallen into a holy lethargy and calm contemplation of the everlasting substances. the sages and the saints strive to be like the gods. more especially of yours and mine. because they understand that art and are masters of it? And how the poets. With the greatest indignation I then thought of the bad men who would abolish sleep. It did not occur to my me to criticise the seductive illusion as ignoble. Now and then one of us would open an eye.136 THE GERMAN CLASSICS senses. and never from love of order and economy shall I trim off any of its profuse abundance of superfluous leaves and shoots. And just as freely as it sprouted did I intend it should grow up and run wild. smile at the sweet slumber of the other. without any distinct purpose and without any unseemly effort. and likewise never lived. Why then .

the greater power and will to enjoy? Among women. restless activity is only a bad habit of the north and brings nothing but ennui for oneself and for others. The more beautiful the climate we live in. and they are only possible in a passive state. but regards it be otherwise for industry and utility are the death-angels which. that grows and fashions itself in quiet? This empty. where is the greater and more lasting enjoyment. one-sided. How is it that we think and compose at all. And where do we find the human spirit more delicately and sweetly developed than in India? Everywhere it is the privilege of being idle that distinguishes the noble from the common. but still a passive state. Only the Italians know what it is to walk. And with what does it begin and end except with antipathy to the world in general. except by surrendering ourselves completely to the influence of some genius? Speaking and fashioning are after all only incidentals in all arts and sciences. the the true principle of nobility. To be sure it is intentional. of which it really has not yet the slightest presentiment.LUCINDA this 137 vague striving and pushing forward without rest or goal? Can this storm and stress give form and nourishing juice to the everliving plant of humankind. I proposed it is to raise tible. and only the Orientals to recline. thinking and imagining are . in whom the transition from sudden sive. the essentials. and therefore contempaims and objects. arbitrary. wrath to ennui is quicker than that from good to evil? Satisfied with the enjoyment of my existence. Nature itself seemed to confirm me . It could not sense. Only when composed and at ease in the holy calm of true passivity can one think over his entire being and get a view of life and the world. more passive we are. which is now such a common feeling? Inexperienced vanity does not suspect that it indicates only lack of reason and as a high-minded discontent with the universal ugliness of the world and of life. myself above all its finite. whose nature we call pasor among men. Finally. with fiery swords. prevent the return of man into Paradise.

your name and your . On one side I saw all the well-known boards. the older ones like images of women. Beside him stood several monstrous fellows who were constantly whipping and goading him on. The youngest looked like amorettes." said one of the is tallest. 4< He has made you all and constantly making more like you. He was was Promebound by a long chain and was working very fast and very hard. and they all bore a certain resemblance to the Christian painters and poets idea of the devil one might have called them little Satans. One of ' ' — the smallest said: " He who does not despise. as it were. a veritable ocean of curious faces and sympa- thetic eyes. mistaken in thinking that you have an ego but if.138 THE GERMAN CLASSICS in this undertaking. on the other a vast throng of spectators. the moralists reproach you about your egoism. with Hebe in his lap. in the act of fashioning men. for what god. cannot respect. one can only do either boundlessly. theus." . In the foreground. all of whom were very happy and did not merely seem to live." said another. and he was getting fire out of a large coal-pan. who is not his own god. you identify it with your body. But each one of them had his own peculiar manner and a striking originality of expression." "And this Prometheus you can all hold in deep rever- ence. On the other side a figure of the deified Hercules. lights and painted scenery. to be sure. on the right. you thereby at least make ready a place for it. to exhort me in manyvoiced choral songs to further idleness. And so is not a certain amount of malice an essential part of harmonious culture? " " " than when Nothing is more absurd. in the meantime. can deserve respect from man? You are. property. And now suddenly a new vision presented itself. There was also an abundance of glue and other materials about. and good tone consists only in playing with men. in case by any chance an ego should come. I imagined myself invisible in a theatre. They are altogether wrong. and. was On the stage in the foreground a crowd of youthful forms were laughing and running about.

Hence it is also. He did those labors of his. He will soon get very tired of it.LUCINDA in fact just as soon as each new man the devils put him down with all the rest who 139 And was finished. now has to toil himself. however. and all of them heroic maids too. Constancy and Play " " Of course you are alone. And thereat he pointed to a rough figure of the God of the Gardens. too. ' ' When the spectators heard this. . It is a vile business. they broke out into tears and jumped upon the stage to assure their father of their heartfelt sympathy. men ? Those are not the right tools he has. To him you owe it that you can never be quiet and are always on the move. In regard to that our friend Hercules had better views. But the goal of his career was always a noble leisure. which stood in the back part of the stage between an Amor and a very beautiful naked Venus. continued the How can one want to do nothing but fashion Sataniscus. whether he wants to or not. who could occupy fifty maidens in a single night for the welfare of humanity. she cries louder and ' ' — ! — — ! ' ' ' 1 ! ' ' ! louder until she gets her way. And thus the allegorical comedy vanished. The mistake he makes is in his method. the inventor of education and enlightenment. and slew many a furious monster. You know very well that when little Wilhelmina says please please and you do not do at once what she wants. >> . when you have absolutely nothing to do. with this Prometheus. But Pro1 ' ' ' ' ' ' ' 1 * metheus. so much alike were they all. were looking on. and immediately it was impossible to distinguish him from the others. Lucinda? I think I do not know perhaps Please please dear Lucinda. that you foolishly aspire to develop character and observe and study one another. and never again will he be freed from his chains. and for that reason he has gained entrance to Olympus. for having misled man to toil. Not so.

140 ' * THE GERMAN CLASSICS So it was to tell me that that so out of breath and frightened ' ' me you rushed so? " into my room ! Do my child! not be angry with me. let me kiss it! Oh. and after still. Come. you surly Julius. yes. stupid neckcloth ? Prejudice " " If only no one disturbs us! Away with it " ! " There she goes again. For who ever looked so solemn as you did just now like a Roman senator? And — you might have looked ravishing. it my 1 1 Let be ? Not a bit of it ! What ! is the use of a miser- able. Very well. let us run down through the garden to the . are you not? What makes your heart beat so? Come. you spoke a moment ago about closing the door. and I am all confused. But first a nice and then another. and your long black hair shining in the evening if you had not sat there like a judge on the sunlight bench. but not that way. You do not do it from pleasure. Heavens I actually started back when I saw how were looking at me. I suppose you will soon be asking door? " me to close the "So? long kiss. with those holy dark eyes. my peevish lady? "Who would have thought so? But I senses ! know very well you laugh only because you can laugh at me. that is funny." — ! ' ' ! sir. I beg of you Oh." " Like your talk in the night. looking as if she wanted to cry! You are well. But why do you not talk? Am I disagreeable to you? " Well. that I will answer that directly. As if you ever let any one say anything Your tenderness flows today like a spring shower. Lovely creature! Be a good girl and do not ' ' ! reproach me " Well. A little more and I should have you forgotten the most important thing. and then some more. ' ' more "Oh! You must to keep not kiss It me that wav — if you want me ' ' makes one think bad thoughts. my "You deserve to. dear child. not here." " Oh let neckcloth be. Are you really capable of laughing. sweet lady.

Lucinda My moralizing will not overtake you. do not make me wait " " so ' ' ! "As you wish. Now we ' ' ' ' ! are here. and then afterward draw me closer to a face the while as if something were hurting you. sir. there will be no excuse for you. This time. How beautiful your skin shines in the red light Why are you so cold. 141 Come! Oh. Oh. pretty fast yourself. with everything as it See should be. love " I did not wish to make you wait any longer. I prefer to give " you just one more kiss and run on ahead of you. not so fast. how ' ' soft and smooth! you ! That is harmonious development. Lucinda ? " Dearest. if you do not well. put the hyacinths further away. as if you were reluctant to return my ardor ? What is indifferent at ." solid How Oh and ! firm. "And quarrel. making you. ! I beg of let I will not allow it!" " May I not feel ! Oh. " Will " you not at least lower the curtain first ? " You are right. we might just as well go back again. where the flowers are. if you are going to begin moralizing. are very obedient! But this is no time to you And you came Be ' ' ' ' "Be * ' still! ! still!" Here is a soft.LUCINDA summer-house. their odor — ' ' 1 ! ' ' sickens 11 me. The light will be much more charming so. me listen to the beat- Let me cool my lips in the snow of your ing of your heart bosom! Do not push me away! I will have my revenge! Kiss upon kiss Hold me tighter No. beautiful and glorious Together yours not children? Tell me! How could you be so cold and ! ! first. not a lot of short ones One everlasting one Take my whole soul and give ! ! ! ! me Are we Oh. You will fall. my dear friend. cosy place. Julius Please don 't * * *." I cannot understand — you are so odd today. ' ' no." ! Now.

it is only because not because our will is bad. that you are so terribly lovable this time it was by my own will that I broke my ' ' ! Can you still love me I ' ' — — resolution. but lack of will. Oh no If we seem to be will ' ' we cannot be willing to share it with us. I could beat myself it would have served you right. it took me so by surprise. And if ever again. even when you do not want it." always the best. But do not imagine. close to my heart. sure. good will leads you women astray. Still. who have such a superabundance of good will and keep it all to yourselves. But it happened quite against my will that we fell a-talking about will I am sure I do not know why we are doing it. and how it relieved you? Tell me what the matter is now. sir. it is much better for — me to vent my feelings by talking than by smashing the beautiful chinaware. But you men are full of first will " The and the last is bad 1 ' obstinate. I shall take better care that you find me like a wife. We otherwise. will you? " Come to me. sir. That is no more than right. I cannot help laughing. not long ago. Do remember how nice it was. when you cried you in my arms. dearest! Oh.142 the matter f ' l THE GERMAN CLASSICS Are you crying ? Do not hide your " lie face ! Look at me." " That is a beautiful mistake. un! and you persist in it. You are not angry with me? " To be I am angry with myself. because we do not will properly. It gave me a chance to recover from . Good will is a very nice thing. was very naughty of me. darling? You will not desert me. let me It here beside you —I cannot look into your eyes. Julius! Can you ever forgive me. cannot. you conduct yourself so like a husband. but the bad part of it is that it is always there. And to whom is the fault attributable but to you women. You may be assured of that. Hence it is not bad will. It is just because women usually say less than they mean that they sometimes do more than they intend. sweet lady here.

" But you must be nice to me loud the stranger was standing You spoke so very close by. You will have to confess it you were jealous." * ' 1 ' ! ' ' ' ' How " The next time do not pass it over! Look out and be strict with me. is accumulated like money and other material things. I began nicely he manages to excuse himself ' ' ! — to write 1 ' it up. talk with you in the presence of others. but tore "And when I ' ' consistent behavior? Great happiness is like music coming . so far as I can remember. it has been several weeks since you have talked by daylight in such solemn and unctuous periods as you used in your sermon today.LUCINDA my 143 astonishment over your unexpected compunction. it is more than that. " Could you love me if I were not so inflammable and Are you not so too? Have you forgotten our electric? first embrace? In one minute love comes and lasts forOr do you think that joy ever. or it does not come at all. Forgive me It always hurts me to rassed I am with you in society. ' ' to do. by it all out for you today. and your laudable resolution." Except to be rude in your awkwardness." came? " then. your excellent discourse. You know how embarI plead guilty." And Oh * ' ! so that is " because I talked with Amalia too much? " Talk as much as you please with anybody you please. Would you mind translating your " meaning into prose? " Really. But see what you have done! Isn't it a desecration? Oh no! It isn't possible. and I was nervous and did not know what else why you are so out of sorts — — . Your being in such an awful hurry annoyed me. that I insist on. this is one of the strangest pranks that you have ever given me the honor of witnessing. Really." "All the evening you rudely forgot about me. have you forgotten already about yesterday evening and the interesting company? Of course I did not little know that.

But first we ought to conciliate the offended gods. You are right. Did I not a short time ago I talk just as long with Antonio. unless I have cause to be ? " I do not know what you mean. It is nothing more than a serious Antonio. Of course " case of clear. It takes you a long time to get over it after you have been disturbed and annoyed about something. more than playing that I love her. you must not believe that I do not wish you to. That nonsense? I did not talk about anything and that was the funny part of it. ' ' ' ' Well then. if she were not a little coquettish." ' ' ' ' — only in a not jealous — how does Answer me : differ- it that ' ' ! Well. I should not care anything about her at all. will you? You shall not! I say it!" " I will not. That is not true. How nice it is that you are 1 ' ' ' ' ' so sensitive ' ' ' ' ! I am no more sensitive than you are ! ent way. Listen! I feel a strong desire to hold a long discourse with you on jealousy. I am not really jealous.144 out of the air ishes again. first the discourse and afterward the gods. pure friendship! Oh no. we are not yet worthy of them. I will stay with you now and for all time. darling ! But you will not vanish. ! ' ' — . How can you credit me with being so For it is a very foolish thing indeed for two foolish? people of opposite sex to form and conceive any such relaIn Amalia 's case it is nothing tion as pure friendship." ' ' THE GERMAN CLASSICS — it appears and surprises us and then vanto And thus it was you appeared me. But tell me all What were Is it you talking about yesterday evening? " "So? possible? It is Amalia of whom you whom you are jealous? with her. used to see almost every day? " ' ' You want me to believe that talk in the same way with the coquettish Amalia that you do with the quiet." Rather. tell me I am that you are? " happen Am I.

" vulgarity " Yes. and both love in their children only their creation and their property. dearest excited." " That is nothing more than what the French call galn anterie and coquetterie. and that is rarely 1 ' — pleasantry is apt to be transformed in their hands into coarse seriousness. it is a different matter with with constancy. Forgive me. and unfaithfulness For me happiness is assured. fine A look at. Under those circumstances fidelity comes to be a merit. and none of them worth very much. the woman in her husband only the degree of his ability and social position. but all of them who are lovable and happen to come one's way. and tacitly believing that one man is about as good as the next. And then men ought to know what the ladies are doing and what they want. which is just as bad or still worse." " This loving just in fun is not at all a funny thing to the case. but do things to please each other. then. According to that system the best thing for a Vol. absence of love. people who love in the ordinary way." " You look upon jealousy.' Nothing more except that I think of it as something beautiful and clever. or rather as mis-culture and perversity. " Now understand me I do not really mean all aright must — ! of them. The man loves only the race in his wife. For lovers do not offend each is " That — — Hence it must other. and love is one to oneself. come from uncertainty.LUCINDA Would ' ' 145 that there were more like her in our circle I Just ' ' in fun. To be sure. and jealousy is in order. as nothing but empty and lack of culture." I believe you are going completely crazy Julius. one really love all the ladies. IV 10 man to do is to — marry of set purpose out . but I must confess that I cannot understand how any one can be jealous. a virtue. For they are quite right in that there are many like themselves." not the fault of the fun it is just miserable I do not wish to get jealousy.

that playing with love and that love of play which." Do you do that in play or by way of joke ? " No! No! I do it in all seriousness. I think. and talk a great deal about friendship. The finest and that which is everybest part would always be lacking the spirit and soul of good society where namely. without the : — — finer sense. This boundedness would. you love 1 tunity is never wanting for a man and wife to be delicate for a change. but the incapability. fixed bounds. even a sisterly relation would assume this character. You understand what I mean it would be a great gain." 11 But surely not as seriously and solemnly as Pauline and her lover?'" . it easily happens that she marries half a dozen in succession." you ' ' You is too many-sided and one-sided. easily degenerates into jocosity. it might form an interesting club. too profound. a sweetheart or a baby. be just as fatal to your character as would sheer For society." You used to talk as if you regarded us women as 1 ' With indivisibly. lies more in the friendship than in you. talk with each other regardless of whether they are men or women? " it is 1 ' " That might make society rather serious. Whatever you love at all." Cannot people. At best. to live out their lives together in a state of mutual contempt. for instance. on the other hand. "Yes. ' ' And ' ' for that reason I defend the ambiguities too. has to be absolutely spiritual and have definite. either spiritually or bodily. Women especially are capable of acquiring a genuine passion for marriage. only in a more refined way. sensuality without love. and were neither too wild nor yet too stiff.146 THE GERMAN CLASSICS folk of sheer obligingness and courtesy. too holy. if people could talk freely. And certainly for such it must be no less convenient than entertaining. And the oppor- " Is that really your opinion ? incapable of friendship. then. and when one of them finds it to her liking. " For you friendship are right there. ' ' It too serious.

serious animal. ' ' cent girl." ' ' . you or I? Both of us are passionate enough. it proper. To that end ambiguities are also good. And see ! That is is why I could reconcile myself to jealousy. who. and attack from all sides. There everything in love ." ' ' ' ' I wonder. It would be rude indeed to talk with a charming lady as if she were a sexless Amphibium. but 1 ties in society ' ' ? " what place have your ambigui- To keep the conversations fresh. man is naturally a We must work against this shameful and abominable propensity with all our strength. was so sad and solemn himself. it forms thick masses and " darkens everything. while he was always making others laugh. just as salt keeps food fresh. but how we say them. stiff and guilty society is." " Surely you have closed your eyes. for it is almost dark." " Then there must be passion in the air here. to be an inno- " That reminds me of the famous Buffo. it is only obtrusive and vulgar. considering how indelicate. If that were not so.LUCINDA " Heaven forbid! church-bell I really believe they true. The question is not why we say them. except that they are so seldom ambiguous. it my friend. that is not immoral. Frivolous talk must be spiritual and dainty and modest. If one does not jest and toy with the elements of passion. for the That is well enough. lady of my heart! Otherwise the light in them would brighten the whole room. " I should not want to live. It is a duty and an obligation to allude constantly to what she is and is going to be. who is the more passionate." Society is a chaos which can be brought into harmonious order only by wit. When they are not and allow only one interpretation. Julius. so far as possible rest as wicked as you choose. if it were only Oh. It is really a comical situation. 147 when they embrace each is would ring the other.

mitigate. does he open his eyes. Not until after the charm of the external world. but instead of answering him it echoes back from external objects.148 THE GERMAN CLASSICS pleasant intercourse. way with you in regard to jealousy. seeking the escape unknown with beautiful curiosity. and one thing must strengthen. he he. otherwise give me the rest." " If only you always manifest it as prettily and as wittily as you did today." — . if to conciliate the offended your discourse ' ' is entirely finished .ars everywhere only the echo of his own Thus the eye * longing. " But only on one condition can I allow you to be jealous. and recall to mind the magic world which he saw in the gleam of the pale moonThe wondrous voice that awakened him is still light." ' ' gods? ' ' Are we not worthy now " Yes. ' ' ' ' — friendship. I have often felt that a little bit of cultured and refined anger does not ill-become a man. sees in the mirror of the river only the called "Apprenticeship of Here follows in the original a biographic sketch Tbanslatob's Note. and the kiss of the loving goddess arouses in him only light dreams. but he does not echo. sensuality. The rose of shame his lips. has completely permeated his entire being. Perhaps it is the same passion. and even Everything must be in it. audible. " Did I? Well. multiplied and reinforced by an inner tinges his cheek . The he smiles and seems to awaken and he knows not open what is going on within him. * Metamorphoses childlike spirit slumbers in sweet repose. And if in childish timidity he tries to from the mystery of his existence. if next time you get into so pretty and witty a passion about it." Let me embrace you. darling. reveling in the sun." " Agreed! Then I do not have to abjure it altogether. I shall say so and praise you ' ' for it. enliven and elevate the other. Manhood.

like the everlasting kiss of the divine children. Every one gives the same as he takes. depth and finds itself again. ourselves to be lured and deceived by the charm of the view Then has the moment of into loving our own reflection. but love. without the slightest interference of restless striving. When a heart. a transition beautiful present. as the wise say. finds itself where it hoped to find love But we soon allow in return. The inspired Diotima revealed is the rose of life. higher than winsomeness. Aurora comes back hate. and evermore more beautiful than before. like Narcissus. from the mortal to the immortal. and only in its light can we find this Not and observe it. ray of happiness breaks in the last tear of longing. longing for the infinite. the waving trees. Iris is already adorning the eternal brow of heaven with the deliSweet dreams cate tints of her many-colored rainbow. Psyche Love is not merely a quiet to Socrates only a half of love. the soul fashions its envelop again. the other. and how soon would the flower of Beauty wither without the complementary This moment the kiss of Amor and birth of requited love.LUCINDA reflection of the blue sky. and the pure forms of a new generation rise up out of Lethe's waves. it is also the holy enjoyment of a Love is It is not merely a mixture. separates people and fashions the world. the 149 green banks. full of unconscious love. By the magic of joy the grand chaos of struggling forms When the dissolves into a harmonious sea of oblivion. it is struck with amazement. beautiful as Anadyomene. and exhibit In their limbs in the place of the vanished darkness. an indivisible and simple feeling. but it is a complete union of both. golden youth and innocence time and man change in the divine peace of nature. as The spirit loses itself in its clear a flower. and the form Of the absorbed gazer. one just like all is balanced and completed in itself. and breathes the final breath of perfection through form. Only in the answer of its Thou can every . There is a pure love. winsomeness come. come true.

If I had some laurel. and the is beautiful again. forms creating Time plaits the wreath of Eternity. I would bind it around your brow to consecrate you to new and serious Thereduties for there begins now for you another life. and you modestly give me the beautiful promise. give to me the wreath of myrtle. a new spring lifts its radiant head over my rosy dawn of immortal existence. since Hitherto all that I now wander in Nature's Paradise. presses ing closer and closer to the goal. not with empty words that bring no blessing. Longing. is full of eagerness to fashion the soul. Nature . It befits me to fore. In the mysteries of culture the spirit sees the play and the laws of caprice and of life. and is he whom Fortune selects to be healthy and bear We are not sterile flowers among other living beings . a divine hope bears him on mighty pinion up to Olympus. but with fresh blossoms and living fruits from the fullness of her power. the Now I love the earth. what I have so often quietly wished for and have never dared to express 1 I see the light of holy joy beaming on your face. Then the understandtries to unfold the inner germ of godlikeness. TWO LETTERS I then really and truly so. is the only true priestess of joy.150 THE GERMAN CLASSICS I completely feel its endless unity. as an artist fashions his one beloved masterpiece. and. In the endless succession of new blessed fruit. gentle Grief. adorn myself with the symbol of youthful innocence. united us more firmly with an indissoluble bond. as the its eagle bore Ganymede. You are to be a Is it mother world ! Farewell. she alone knows how to tie the nuptial knot. in the consciousness of his own immortality. and thou. . farewell. The statue of Pygmalion moves a joyous shudder comes over the astonished artist . Now Nature has held us together was love and passion.

LUCINDA 151 the gods do not wish to exclude us from the great concatenation of living things. I will utilize all my strength during the day. and are giving us plain tokens of their will. if I may say so. the demure little rogue. and help me invent mischief at your expense. do not have it too beautiful. I am no longer suspended in the empty void of general inspiration . but. I see the useful in a new light. who will be eternally my bride. without waiting for my decision. at home on it. . let us bear the immortal fruits which the spirit chooses to create. and in the evening I will refresh myself in the arms of the mother. we must certainly buy the little estate. me with profound respect. are right. and let us take our place in the ranks of humanity. Hitherto I have lived in a thoughtless way and without any feeling of ownership I have tripped lightly over the earth and have never felt If . they are good for something. nor yet too useful. Order everything just as you please. and the way I want it to be and I shall derive immense enjoyment from the beautiful property. in their way. I will sow and reap for the future as well as for the present. above all things. and. everything will be quite right. I will establish myself on the earth. glad that you went right ahead with the arrangements. Our son. So let us deserve our position in this beautiful world. and you will some day hear me enthusiastically praise the blessedness of home and the merits of domesticity. will play around us. if. I like the friendly restraint. you only arrange it all in accordance with your own judgment and do not allow yourself to be talked into the proper and conventional. Now the sanctuary of marriage has given me the rights of citizenship in the state of nature. and find everything truly useful that unites everlasting in short everything that serves to love with its object — External things imbue bring about a genuine marriage. . not too You I am elaborate.

social classes. . One thing more. as an insignificant exception. If everything were as it ought to be. Do you know what period of our love seems to me parTo be sure. the masculine and the feminine. But to me the most cherished of all is the last few days. a few who are perverted by a wrong education. when we were living period Another reason for living again together on the estate. as do the fresh shrubs and flowers. the culturing and the cultured. But in the open air the one thing which is beautiful and good cannot be suppressed by the bad masses and their show of omnipotence. people can live side by side without offensively crowding one another. freely. Do not have close. In place of that we amount of coarseness and. it is all beautiful and pure ticularly beautiful ? in my memory. the grapevines trimmed too I say this only because you thought they were growing too fast and luxuriantly. Also the green grass-plot must stay as it is that the baby is to crawl and play and roll about. beautiful mansions and cosy cottages would there adorn the green earth. so that they cannot even vent their rage you for it .152 THE GERMAN CLASSICS now your preference feel as I understand like for country life. and create a garden worthy of the gods. and I even think of the first days with a sort of melancholy delight. I you do about it. I can no longer endure to see these ungainly masses of everything that is corrupt and diseased in mankind and when I think about them in a general way they seem to me like wild animals bound by a chain. and because it might occur to you to want a perfectly clear view of the house on all sides. To be sure we shall find in the country the vulgarity that There ought really to be only two prevails everywhere. there should be a grand marriage of these two classes and universal brotherhood of see a vast all individuals. and In the country. in the country. instead of all artificial society. is where .

And what is the cause of such little repulsions except our . "As you do is a stronger expression than any superlative. no love in me. Everything I am There is absolutely no telling you. I write too well to be able to describe you my inward state of mind. its wild flights. But what does that matter. mutual and insatiable desire love to annihilation. happy indeed that I love a woman who is capable " you do. to love is without this insatiableness there and be loved? And no love. peace will come to it only after the conflict of forces. however. ! Your and love cannot be any is Admirable. We live and if it is love that first develops us into true and perfect beings. you everso. lastingly blessed creature ! Misunderstandings are sometimes good. without any reservation of alien thought? What pain were worth mentioning when we gain by it a deeper and more fervid consciousness of our love? And you feel about it too. and I hope you will take this occasion to drive them off and away from you. cealed somewhere in the depths of your being.LUCINDA Is it 153 now not true that the pain my sad letter caused you is entirely compensated? In the midst of all these giddy joys and hopes I can no longer torment myself with care. I am sure. and leads more everlasting than mine. hit upon some that hurt you? I feel of loving as to I should like to say. without wishing to. when I. in that they lead us to talk of what is holiest. dearest Believe me. The differences that now and then seem to arise are not in us. if you love me. not in either of us they are merely between us and on the surface. then it need not fear opposition any more than it fears life itself And or humanity. really love me in your very heart. How can you praise my words. ness of your constancy. Oh. there is no question in you that has not its answer in me. the cause of which does not lie condelight. you knew long ago. that is the very life of life. beautiful jealousy of my fancy your That indicates rightly the boundless- me to hope that your . You yourself suffered no greater pain from it than I.

I alone and suddenly find myself among have to smile when I realize how absent- minded I cannot write very long either. You are right indeed.154 jealousy excess. now it is I shall soon be carrying him on my there and a reality. I am holier and more composed than I was. is THE GERMAN CLASSICS on the point of destroying itself by its own This sort of fancy committed to writing is no longer I shall soon be with you. telling him fairy-tales. and beam with joy. . . I give you an endless kiss. and you have wanted nothing to make you like the the Child. Now you have that. while I have been writing to you. pretty soon I want to go out again and dream away the beautiful evening on the bank of the quiet stream. no memcould have profaned you. and presently find myself in some place where I had not the least desire to be. until night I do nothing but rove around here in morning this glorious region. as if I had something terribly important to do. and I will keep the present holy. It is cruel that I cannot be with you right now. am Then I was. From From sheer impatience I do all sorts of foolish things. thinking partly of the — — man you love and partly of your baby. Do you know. giving him serious instruction and lessons as to how a young man has to conduct himself in the world. to me you are as everlastory ingly pure as the Holy Virgin of the Immaculate Conception. Madonna except arm. And then my mind reverts to the mother. Sometimes I hasten my steps. I watch your bosom heave with longing. needed. I can only see you in my mind and stand always before you. You yourself feel everything without my telling you. I make gestures as if I were delivering a forcible speech I think I people. When we are together again we will think of our youth. and feel the mysterious throbbing of your heart. one hour later is infinitely later.

but Especially Juliana. to destroy whole masses of your and environment. to flout caution. That is my virtue thus it becomes me to be like the gods. . I thought it feminine for you to play with break. People are really very good to me.LUCINDA 155 Today I forgot among other things that it was time to Oh well. life Fortune. And yet it is anything but weakness. should love my friends here. Now. excitement will you have when you receive it. In a quiet way they seem even to derive hearty pleasure from my joy. she has a good intuition and surmises the rest. to hallow this beautiful I often life into a holy festival. but also for capriciously interrupting it. like Nature's priestess of joy. Certainly there is nothing more amiable than pure. like the I really believe that I if beautiful exhaustion of the senses that follows the highest life. I know that from now on 1 shall be able to do every- thing pertaining to my vocation with more liking and with fresher vigor. I feel a great they change in my being. I tell her very little about you. unselfish delight in love. You too lightly and are fond of the evening air. dress yourself worry about your health. I have never felt more confidence and to work as a man among men. Yours is gently to reveal. even were less admirable than they are. surrounded by worthy sons and . there is something . a general tenderness and sweet warmth in all the powers of my soul and spirit. They not only forgive me for not taking any part in their conversation. courage and in joyous fraternal cooperation to act for eternity. those are dangerous habits and are not the only ones which you must that a new order of things is beginHitherto I have praised your frivolitjr because it was opportune and in keeping with the rest of your nature. however. the mystery of love. daughters. to lead a heroic life. and. On the contrary. so much the more joy and send my letter off. Eemember ning for you.

— dream of me. I from its flattering tone that she does not consider me I do not as an exception to the men who need flattery. why is it that I cannot at least be with you in my dreams be really with you and dream in you. put there merely as a hyperbolical Still figure of speech. I doubt it. and through you I have come to understand marriage and life. in our case was so literally true. Dearest. my worth in our way. Well. good night. of course. They are the universe to each other. Everything is animate for me. For when I merely dream of You wonder why you do not you. just as praying and eating and rascality and ecstasy are mixed up in life. It struck me as at once pathetic and comical. since you think of me so much. In this letter everything is all mixed up in a motley confusion. it is also literally true for a French passion of that kind. and I wonder if she knows what adoration is? if am sorry for her she does not. and everyus. . Everything we once for everything else. I am always alone. Oh. — the allegorical sense. Aren't you? Today in a French book about two lovers ' ' : I came across ' ' the expression They were the universe to each other. The world's loved we still love all the more ardently. how that thoughtless phrase. do you not also have your long spells of silence about me? Amalia's see letter gave me great pleasure.156 that you THE GERMAN CLASSICS must always bear in mind. To be sure. because they lose sense Not so with us. It would not be fair to ask her to recognize like that at all. speaks to me. so beautifully. and regard above You must gradually train yourself in everything else. and the gloriousness of all things. It is enough that there is one who In her way she appreciates my worth understands me. meaning has now dawned upon Through me you have learned to know the infinitude of the human mind.

talking with you. and a — certain amount of predisposition for art. as for that I have no special preference. At first I always think of you as you describe it that I am walking with you. in your arms. on the chair beside you.or landscape-painting? You foolish girl. where it would fain overflow in kisses ? And now you actually boast because you write me such — warm while I only write to you often. to lace up their progeny from the very cradle in the bands of narrow morality.LUCINDA thing is 157 holy. creep up with sweet warmth to your heart. pleasure of the lover's embrace becomes again is in general the holiest marvel of Nature. education. until it reaches your mouth. But about the child's I have thought a great. what in and of itself it is. try harder to avoid it than. listening to you. When reverts people love each other as to its we do. becomes for us. human nature original godliness. I have what is called " " I think will please you. And that which for others is only something to be rightly ashamed of. Son or daughter. say. with your external things! You want to know what is going on around me. Does not a ray of longing strike you. especially when I wake up at night. In doing so I have carefully considered your ideas. great deal. looking at you. — different. and where and when and how I live and amuse myself! Just look around you. by anxious thought. I think. if it made some plans which should be a daughter. But you must not neglect the Art! For your daughter. you pedantic creature. Everything else I await with quiet resignation. — — The what it There are three things which our child shall certainly have a great deal of wanton spirit. the pure fire of the noblest potency of life. close to your heart that is where I am. Then again it is sometimes quite letters. must bringing-up We carefully avoid. three sensible fathers try. a serious face. . would you prefer portrait.

as good as entirely well that I infer from all the reports. II It is awe of himself. indeed no longer dangerous. I believe that if I were to stay away from you a few more months.158 THE GERMAN CLASSICS can you have any doubt about the worthiness and divineness of your letters? The last one sparkles and How beams as mere writing it is music. Every little detail she wrote about your sickness. — — from the bright sunlight of glowing youth to the pale moonlight of sagacious old age. about writing and style. Lost in this thought and my strength entirely exhausted on account of the impossibility of hurrying to your side. but decided. with the same confidence with which a few days ago I pronounced our death-sentence. It is not — to set out in eight days. being new-born by the joyful news that you are well again. confirmed my suspicion that it was far more dangerous than you thought. For you are well again now. and no longer to postpone the highest and loveliest of studies. For I know by my own experience the terrible omnipotence of the fantasy. I understand now the old fairy-tale about the man whom the sorcerer allowed to live a great many years in a few moments. Now for the first time I understand what it really was. my state of mind was really very disconsolate. a remarkable thing that man does not stand in great The children are justified. past hope. — . I have practically decided if it had bright eyes. and at the same time of opening up a fathomless abyss of pain and suffering. taken with what I had already gleaned from the doctor and had observed myself. your style would become absolutely Meanwhile I think it advisable for us to forget perfect. when they peep so curiously and timidly at a company of unknown faces. Each individual atom of everlasting time is capable of comprising a world of joy. Since the last letter from your sister it is three days now I have undergone the sufferings of an entire life.

how insignificant and trivial? So it has always seemed to radiance hovered about as if to entice me. until the wild vision vanished. which shone with a well-known smile in the Now a piercing pain from dark suns night of my grief. bolder and more tremendous. I gazed fixedly at the black lights. For a long time you had been wrapt in the bosom of the cold earth. Only your holy eyes remained in the empty and hung there motionless. just as it had looked tlie last time I saw it. reassumed their first form. and then present yourself again when your orders have been executed. . I And for that reason I suspect — if I am have already imparted my suspicion to you that the next life will be larger.LUCINDA 159 I did not think of it as about to happen in the future. now a beautiful Then I seemed me. and in the good as well as in the bad. The picture remained motionless before me. — not mistaken. Then of a sudden the different memories all became confused. Everything was already past. how orderly everything is. with unbelievable rapidity the outlines changed. stronger. to feel a fresh breath of : morning ' l air fan ' ' : me." Is it not to you also remarkable how everything on this earth moves toward the centre. and yet you regard yourself as ready for and worthy of a higher life? Go away and do and suffer as your calling is. or even in the present. and transformed themselves again and again. now and then the pale face smiled and seemed asleep. and saw nothing but the features I had loved and the sweet glances of the expressive eyes. Mute and alone I stood. wilder. when suddenly a new thought held me back and I said to my spirit Unworthy man. even as the friendly stars space shine eternally over our poverty. burned me with an insupportable glare. and my tears had already begun to flow more gently. you cannot even endure the trifling dissonances of this ordinary life. flowers had started to grow on the beloved grave. I held my head up and cried aloud Why should you torment yourself? In a few minutes you can be with her! " I was already hastening to you.

I felt that its mysterious life was richer and deeper than the vulgar health of the dreaming sleep-walkers all around me. delicate spirit often happiness over its grows melancholy in the very lap of own joy. which evermore transfigured itself into a cheerful diffused . which was not at all unpleasant. even into the most hidden depths of existence. so did I regard my suffering with mysterious pleasure. I too thought that I was awake when I saw your picture. but I loved my sickness and welcomed the suffering. A feeling of horror came over me. just as I was sundered from the earth by the thought that your nature and my love had been too sacred not to take speedy flight from earth and its coarse It seemed to me that all was right so.160 THE GERMAN CLASSICS The duty of living had conquered. and I found myself again amid the tumult of human life. I believed that seeing and feeling the everlasting discord by means it all things come into being and exist. On account of this remarkable feeling sickness acquired the character of a peculiar world complete in itself. unavoidable death was nothing more than a gentle awaken- of which ing after a light sleep. and at the very acme of its existence becomes conscious of the futility of it all. as when a person suddenly finds himself alone in the midst of immeasurable mountains of about me and in me was cold Everything and strange. and the lovely forms of refined culture seemed dead and trivial to me in comparison with this monstrous world of infinite strength and of unending struggle and warfare. I was sick and suffered great pain. tears froze. Wonderful worlds appeared and vanished before me in my uneasy dream. and even my ice. this feeling also clung to me and completely separated me from other men. and of my and its weak efforts and faulty deeds. And with the sickliness. I hated everything earthly and was glad to see it all punished and I felt so alone and so strangely. and that your ties. And as a destroyed. I re- garded I was as the symbol of life in general.

now like a soft ray of golden childhood. I yearned for my dear old fatherland. and everything brought me back to my one Beloved. Then you appeared of Death. and deeds and works ad- a vanced laboriously to their goal. Do you know what has become most IV obvious to me as a — 11 . To me they were merely holy symbols. The brow was no longer smooth and the locks were becomThe ing gray. and still Art and Virtue stood ever unattainable before me. when I was suddenly called back to life An by the promise and reassurance of your had been dreaming. but not completed. all existence was an uninterrupted divine service of solitary love. gracious Madonna. The years passed slowly by. the significant suggestions and similariand stood anxiously by the boundless deep of this all inward Vol. one after the other goal that seemed as little mine as the deeds and works seemed to be what they are called. who was the mediatrix between my dismembered ego and the one eternal and indivisible humanity. I should have de- had I not perceived and idolized both in you. With long. and you and your gentle godliness in myself. still drafts my spirit drank from the cool spring of pure passion ! and became secretly intoxicated with it. to me. and the feeling never left me that I was consecrated to death. truth. beckoning with the summons earnest longing for you and for freedom seized me. because every earthly sentiment was entirely strange to me. quite you and yet no longer you. My career was ended. Finally I became conscious that it — was now nearly over. I recovery. the divine form irradiated by a wonderful light Now it was like the terrible gleam of visible omnipotence.LUCINDA purity. Then I became conscious that I shuddered at ties. spaired. best strength of life was gone. 161 Serious and yet charming. and was about to shake off the dust of travel. And in this blissful drunkenness I felt a spiritual worthiness of a peculiar kind.

good thing that I do We poetically conceive. that I idolize you. had to put an immodest interpretathe old gods. the more fashionable does tion it. A It has often struck sensible Reflection my mind how extraordinary it is that and dignified people can keep on. and only in that way does a human being become one and a complete entity. with such great seriousness and such never-tiring industry. behaves wittily. The more modest and modern one is. all life upon a certain classic dignity whereby even the immodest it become For is rendered lifelike.162 result of THE GERMAN CLASSICS it all? and that it is a two are one. Where does the longed-for ideal lie concealed? Or does the aspiring heart evermore find in the . since we find the germ of everything in ourselves. This number and this power are all right. and yet remain forever only a fragment why of ourselves? And tiful then I now know that death can also be felt as beau- and sweet. Then my spirit inquired what Nature. by regarding and poetically conceiving himself as the centre of everything and the spirit of the world. so. on the contrary. instead — of talking wittily. and who. And this namelessness itself has an equivocal significance. I understand how the free creature can quietly long in the bloom of all its strength for dissolution and freedom. who everywhere thinks so profoundly and employs her cunning in such a large way. forever playing the little game in perpetual rotation a game which is of no use whatever and has no definite object. But First. but they are heroic art not the highest. and can joyfully entertain the thought bf return as a morning sun of hope. The mass of such works and the great inventive power displayed in them settles the question of rank and nobility in the realm of mythology. may think of those naive intimations which refined speakers designate only by their namelessness. that is. although it is perhaps the earliest of all games.

to be defined and to define. Only in the search itself does the human mind But what. the energy of the Definite is transitory. "With everlasting immutable symmetry both strive in different ways to get near to the Infinite and to escape from it. but the noble refinement of the Definite has more of genius. next to itself. He is always defining it in a new way. Complete Definiteness. is it that defines or is defined? is Among among men it is the nameless. toy of the Definite and the Indefinite. — the nameless more mysterious. And what women? The Indefinite. like a genuine storm and genuine inspiration. which is intended to fill all gaps and to act as mediator between the male and female individual and humanity? and the Indefinite and the entire abundance of their definite and indefinite relations that is the one and all. infinite The Definite — . like the life of the flowers and the everlasting Indefinite is The youth of mortal feelings. and the real definition of the definable is an allegorical miniature of the life and activity of ever-flowing creation. Indefinite is more romantic. the most wonderful and yet the simplest. the simThe universe itself is only a plest and yet the highest. then. For that reason the life of the cultured and thinking man is a constant study and meditation on the beautiful riddle of his destiny.LUCINDA highest of all plastic 163 arts only new manners and never a perfected style? Thinking has a peculiarity of its own in that. for just that is his entire destiny. Who can measure and compare two things which have endless worth. when both are held together in the real Definiteness. but the Definite has The charming confusion of the greater magic power. discover the secret that it seeks. on the other hand. With light but sure advances the Indefinite expands its native wish from the beautiful centre of Finiteness into the boundless. The beauty of the Indefinite is perishable. it loves to think about something which it can think about forever.

Now everything is clear Hence the omnipresence of the nameless. but contend with. I will not say play. It will serve at . each other? " So you will surely ask. Even in the most delicate and most artistic organization these comical points of the great All reveal themselves. Nature herself wills the everlasting succession of constantly repeated efforts. Dear Beloved! Shall the nosegay contain only demure roses. What point have all these allusions. or rather in the middle of it. my Sinking deeper into this IndividuReflection took such an individual turn that it presently began to cease and to forget itself.164 THE GERMAN CLASSICS throws itself with a bold leap out of the blissful dream of the infinite will into the limits of the finite deed. and give to all individuality. unique a true image of the supreme. and by self-refinement ever increases in magnanimous selfrestraint and beautiful self-sufficiency. indi- — visible Individuality. Through this individuality and that allegory the bright ideal of witty sensuality blooms forth from the striving exists only its final after the Unconditioned. though no doubt in different language. with roguish significance. that and new ality. and rich in blossoms and fruits of all kinds. Let the wonderful plant. in himself every individual shall be complete. and so the good Juliana would ask. like a miniature. and she ! wills. which by them and by the seriousness of their play. rounding and perfection. In this symmetry is also revealed the incredible humor with which consistent Nature accomplishes her most universal and her most simple antithesis. which with sense' ' less sense on the outward boundaries of sensuality. unknown divinity. modest violets and other maidenlike and childlike flowers ? May it not contain anything and everything that shines strangely in wonderful glory? Masculine awkwardness is a manifold thing. quiet forget-me-nots. too. which I will not name. have its place.

critic of my friend and his conduct. You will be able to learn various things from it that men . still he lacks all sense for thing Still I shall never set myself up as a moral friendship. can hate with as uncommon delicacy as you can love that they then remold a wrangle. tinction. That you wrong yourself first of all only makes the matter worse. which consume the marrow of a man 's life and : leave him hollow inside? For a long time I was resigned and said nothing. I did . but near each other. you realize What will that acquire so much modesty Where ing will be lost. since we have not been living with each other. do you think there is virtue in these cool subtleties of feeling. perhaps. I shall have to set limits for you and say Even if he has a sense for everyelse that is beautiful. my do not lose your sense for the great before you it. Tell me seriously. that a great deal of late. It is a soft Furioso and a clever Adagio of friendship. which commotley abundance.LUCINDA least as a foil to the bright-gleaming 165 pomegranate and the yellow oranges. in these cunning mental gymnastics. after it is over. into a dis. will finally and delicacy that heart and feelthen will be your manhood and mean? You your power of action? I shall yet come to the point of treating you as you treat me. be. instead of one perfect flower. often and not unwillingly. Beware. he who can do that does not deserve the rare good fortune to have a friend. borrows the material for its creations from masculine inspiration. about it Julius to Antonio You have changed friend. with full confidence in your objective sense for this Or should there the artistic productions of the awkwardness which. only bines all the beauties of the rest and renders their existence superfluous? I do not apologize for doing what I should rather like to do again. and that you may make as many observations as pleases you.

And that really vexes me. who know so much. Better that you should hate the noble fellow than misjudge him. The quiet. Have you not also forced me to say nothing to you. where would be the invisible communion of our spirits how you had . or to anyone else. about that which I feel to be the highest? And that merely because . and one man does not fare much better than another. save when you cultivate an intentional reserve. at the opposite ends of you are a sensitive. so astonished at that you. for otherwise I should myself really have nothing more to say. when on every occasion I must feel it a fresh desecration to tell you everything about Edward. For that reason you should have sense for everything. clear depth of your being and the hot struggle of his restless life lie human existence. the question would answer and settle itself. and that without renouncing your claim to a liberal mind ? To be sure you Is that your boasted many-sidedness? observe the principle of equality. Edward and asked and the beautiful magic of this communion! It certainly cannot occur to you to want to hold back still longer. would also the causes that have destroyed our friendif I was mistaken. and you realty do have it. But is it npt more than that. and by sheer finesse to try to end the misunderstanding. But where will it lead.166 not doubt at THE GERMAN CLASSICS all probably know It almost seems as ship. except that each one is misunderstood in a peculiar way. If it were only that. if you unnaturally accustom yourself to use your utmost wit in finding nothing but the commonplace in what little of greatness and beauty there is in him. have not even said anything aloud but I know and see very well how you think about it. to since you were my attaching myself offended me. as if you did not understand it. And if I did not know it and see it. then it would not be worth while to ask such a painful question. only some one thing like that. He is all action. You two are unquestionably separated by an everlasting chasm. just as it happened? To be sure you have done nothing. con- templative nature.

that I wanted to share Perhaps too it was idiosyncrasy . if now and then you had not passed judgment but had believed if you had presupposed in me an unknown infinite. But am quite I have in my heart and will say to you. He is rough and uncouth. a hero. too. one or two things more that I could not now endeavor to intimate with the pen. if I only knew of a more refined and subtle mode of communicating my . for. me to the point of regarding that quiet. based merely upon the harmony of being and living together. as something false and perverse. great manly heart. and because your mind is always imagining limitations in others before it can find its own. . I say it boldly. and I regarded it too as superfluous. You have almost me to explain to you how great my own worth obliged really is how much more just and safe it would have been.LUCINDA 167 you could not hold back your opinion until it was the proper time. content. as a matter of fact. my friend. Antonio. But why in this way? Oh. I gave you credit for a great deal of intelligence. — with you the entire present. the wild battle of life. Is it now still incomprehensible if I quite go over to the other side? I renounce refined enjoyment and plunge into I hasten to Edward. that you did not wish to write. and that you spoke slightingly of poor innocent letters because you really have more genius for talking. and in better times than ours he would have been. But he has a his virtue is strong rather than sensitive. but we will is agreed upon. without letting you know anySomehow it went thing about the past and the future. is which work and act in fraternal unison. II It is no doubt well that we have at I last talked with each other again. against my feelings. beautiful friendship. Everything We will not only live together. if you might have brought I could be doubtful about the eternal truths. To be sure my own negligence is to blame for it all.

to say to you is something very general. symmetry of the most intimately personal. coherent whole. this beautiful mysticism of inter- . about friendship. I think that the boundary line between us is forever destroyed. yet it is thoughts on that subject that I wish to convey The application to you. The other friendship is entirely internal.168 THE GERMAN CLASSICS To me conthoughts from afar in some exquisite form! versation is too loud. a part of the connected. And this purely spiritual love. The first is entirely external. ties the old knot tighter by means of every virtue. and ever aspires to win new brothers. Insatiably it rushes from deed to it And — — deed. and Now times are different. A if it wonderful had been previously ordained that one should always be perfecting All thoughts and feelings become social through the mutual excitation and development of the holiest. So far as that is concerned. the more it has. the ideal of this friendship will stay with me as long as — I live. and also too disconnected. and yet I prefer to choose this roundabout way. too near. I do not know whether it is false or true delicacy. but creates or governs worlds. face to face. These separate words always present one side only. where noble strength exerts influence on great masses. the more it wants. and for that reason avoided speaking of certain persons and certain affairs. To my mind there are two kinds of friendship. but I should find still What I had very hard to talk with you. receives every worthy man into the great alliance of united heroes. which I should like to intimate in its complete harmony. as himself. even were it in ourselves or in the beloved friend you will find this friendship everywhere. and it is about that I am most concerned you will yourself easily be able to make. Call to and you will find this friendship. And can men who are going to live together be too tender toward each other in their intercourse? It is not as If I were afraid of saying something too strong. mind the antique world which wages honest war against all that is bad.

and guard its holy being. Lucinda and Julius stood by the window in the summer-house. against everything external. "do longing and love shine full and bright. as in that other heroic form. his actions must show. For the delicate flower is perishable. " in the peace of the night. "the happiness of love shines dimly. there is peace only when the spirit is entirely free to long and to seek. even as the pale moonlight." answered Yes." responded Julius. refreshing themselves in the cool morning air. They were absorbed in watching the rising sun. like this glorious "Only sun. which lighted up the room when the moon was hidden. No. asked Lucinda. Whether a man 's virtue will stand the test. There no deception occurs. does not merely hover as the distant goal of a per- haps futile effort." said Lucinda. which the birds were welcoming with their joyous songs. the gods have bestowed such friendship upon a he can do nothing more than protect it carefully man." "It is Julius." "And " " " does the Only in the night. Julius. only is capable of this friendship who is quite composed within himself. But he who inwardly sees and feels humanity and ness where the world will not be apt to look for public disinterestedit is not to be found.LUCINDA 169 course." said Julius. where it can find nothing higher than its own longing. little night- ." added Lucinda. it is only to be found complete. longing in this serene peace? ' ' ' ' i * " why is it that I feel a deep only in longing that we find peace." "Or it appears and vanishes suddenly into the general in the like those flashes of lightning darkness. and who knows how to honor with humility the divinity of the other. He When Longing and Peace Lightly dressed." daytime.

Even in the daylight the dark lustre of your abundant hair. you are the priestess of the night. dear longing. and my Away with modesty and flattery! Remember.170 THE GERMAN CLASSICS Only in the night does ingale utter wails and deep sighs. JULIUS Julius. it is the wonderful flower of your fantasy which you perceive in me. in the night. My longing for you is constant LUCINDA Be it what it may. Holy peace. the flower shyly open and breathe freely the fragrant air. Lucinda. which in the noise of the day close with tender pride their sweet sanctuary. when the noise has died down and nothing commonplace distracts your noble mind. friend. would fain wail like the nightingale." LUCINDA It is not I. the majesty of your brow and your entire body. the bright black of your earnest eyes. consecrated to the night. all proclaim it. because the noisy morning dazzles and the joyous songs of the merry birds strengthen and awe my soul. whom you portray as so holy. you are the object in which JULIUS my being finds peace. Only intoxicating both mind and senses in equal delight. does the bold speech of deep passion flow divinely from the lips. as I inwardly feel. At another time my ear would eagerly drink in my lovely friend's sweet talk here in the quiet. LUCINDA My eyes droop while you praise. and everlastingly unsatisfied. JULIUS It is not vain fantasy. It is you. I have found only in that . although I although I am. dark coolness of the evening.

JULIUS Where may mently dragged the billow of life be impulsive youth whom sporting with the tender feeling and wild fate vehe- into the harsh world"? LUCINDA known Uniquely transfigured. while we twain in brotherly union adorn your serious brow with eternal wreaths of joy. that the garish light is permitted to lift the veil that so concealed those flames. That is the and will love her forever. I have found that holy longing in this beautiful JULIUS Alas. LUCINDA You love her still ever mine. though forwonder of your wondrous heart. and her wonder of my wondrous happiness. clasped against my breast. I see you. even as you once more greatly renounced great JULIUS love. And so sometimes the cold and serious day will annihilate the warm night of life. when youth flies by and I renounce you. the pure image of the noble Unshines in the blue sky of your pure soul. . that the play of the senses was fain to cool and assuage the burning LUCINDA soul. that which blooms sacredly in the quiet depths of the heart. playing with your Guido's locks. bring not forth into light.LUCINDA LTJCINDA 171 And peace. No more wondrous LUCINDA Let rest in darkness. JULIUS than yours. that I might show you the my unknown friend. Oh.

by its imitative skill it tries to steal from the innocent fan- tasy its very innermost being. It is the acme of intelligence to keep silent from choice. Yes. But rarely is the mind so intelligent after the golden age of its innocence. to surrender the soul to the fantasy. the vain glare. and is pitifully stifled in the loving embrace of apelike Care. your Dallyings of the Fantasy the delicate child of the gods. cold illusions a tinge of color and a fleeting heat and thus . without understanding listens furtively and substitutes for the holy child's-play mere memories of former purposes or prospects of new ones. of the day will grow dim and go out. to interweave purposes artfully with purposes for a purpose this habit is so deeply rooted in the foolish nature of godlike man. longing. is crowded out by the hard. the . loud preparations for living. : To have purposes. and not to disturb the sweet dallyings of the young mother with her child. But the youthful soul does not allow itself to be cheated by the cunning of the prematurely old Understanding. It would fain possess the soul alone and even when she supposes herself alone with her natural love. and is darling plays with the beautiful pictures of the beautiful world. he must actually resolve to do it and make it a set purpose.172 THE GERMAN CLASSICS JULIUS eternal longing! But surely the futile desire. Willingly she allows always watching while its . It longs only for find peace. that if once he wishes to move freely. Oh LUCINDA Thus does the woman's heart in when I am allowed to be as I am. any purpose. to carry out purposes. and there will be forever more the restful feeling of a great night of love. it even continues to give to the hollow. on the inner stream of ever-flowing images and feelings. and is peaceful where you my ardent breast feel. Life itself.

Every one lives and loves. ess to seize fire I hasten eternal purity and never-dying away from the altar and the priest- sword and plunge with the host of heroes into a battle. It feels itself entwined by the my blossoms of love. dreaming of the music of love. and quickly lose themselves in the background of hushed music and dim love. seeing in the deepest solitude only the sky and myself. . well-known feelings the past and the future. hearing the friendly and mysterious voices of the gods. it takes care not to destroy the loose wreaths. and all bloom of youth and a halo of The man men ever- lasting humanity. Then a fresh breath of the child-like ecstasy comes over the whole of life. by the pure eternal enthusiasm. Now the soul understands the wail of the nightingale and the smile of the new-born babe. and there the lonely maiden becomes mute in the presence of the friend in whom she would fain confide. consecrates itself to the fantasy. flowers which presently. deifies his Beloved. Thoughtfully I strew flowers on the grave of the prematurely dead son. the significance of the flowers and the mysterious hieroglyphics of the starry sky . in beautiful confusion. it gladly gives itself up a prisoner. which I soon forget. which rewards all maternal cares by its sweet playfulness. Old. full of joy and hope.LUCINDA 173 her brow to be adorned with the wreaths which the child plaits from the blossoms of life. and willingly she sinks into waking slumber. make music from the depths of They touch the listening spirit but lightly. the mother her child. complains and rejoices. The soul that has such dreams in sleep continues to have them even when it is awake. and with smiling mouth refuses the kiss. like the separate sounds of a distant romance. Here at a noisy feast the lips of all the joyful guests open in general song. and willingly allows itself to be ruled by the child. I offer to the bride of the beloved brother while the high priestess beckons to me and holds out her hand for a solemn covenant to swear .

and that which it forms or speaks sounds like a wonderful romance of childhood's beautiful and mysterious divinities a romantic tale. and everywhere it sees the. On this gaily decorated floor it glides life. And during it all an eternal song. and not to disturb the rhythm harmony of love. accompanied by the — bewitching music of the feelings. Ever more beautifully this magic circle encompasses the charmed soul. of which it catches now and then a few words which adumbrate dance of innocent. through the light and concerned only to follow the of sociability and friendship. All things speak to it. lovely spirit through the delicate envelope. and adorned with the fairest flowers of lovely life.174 THE GEKMAN CLASSICS the holy import of life as well as the beautiful language of Nature. . still higher wonders.

the most needful and the highest. the briefest and most concise course would doubtless too. He who desires . There is this peculiarity about spirits: they cannot be grasped with the hands and be held up before others. [175] may all men he read him. he is in an unfavorable situation. he must no longer feel interest in it. not to be read at . GRAY EEFECT understanding of a classic work should never be possible. deserves . Every honest author writes for no one or for who writes that this one or that one all. Here. must always desire to learn it. as for the is man. He will then wish to say everything a false tendency of young geniuses.APHORISMS By Friedrich Schlegel From the Lyceum and the Athenceum (1797-1800) TRANSLATED BY LOUIS H. Spirits reveal themselves only to spirits. more from If an author is to be able to write well upon a theme. although for the artist. the thought which is to be soberly expressed must already be entirely past and must no longer personally concern the writer. be to prove. our possession of the faith which alone gives salvation. It is impossible to offend a man if he will not be offended. should never appeal to the spirit of antiquity as an authority. but those who are cultivated and who are still striving after further culture. or an instinctively correct prejudice of old bunglers. this We the first and the last. is In the ordinary kind of fair or even good translation it precisely the best part of a work that is lost. through good works. at least for communicating his concepts. In this way he mistakes the value and the dignity of — self-restraint. desires something infinite knows not what he but the converse of this proposition is not true. So long as the artist invents and is inspired.

a system. nor is it easy to see what objections. but in harmony with all spiritual and all Almost temporal laws. The printed page first kiss. even by force. there are very few Germans. is to thought what a nursery is to the The historian 1 ' ' ' is a prophet looking backward. he cannot be one so soon as he believes that he is one. not in accordance with the paradoxes of this system or that. which might be furthered by new — and perhaps happier — attempts.176 THE GERMAN CLASSICS we see the perfection of : In the poetry of the Ancients the letter the spirit. the peculiar essence of which consists in the fact that more than one person are to become but one. There are people whose entire activity consists in saying It would be no small thing always to be able rightly No. in that of the moderns we divine the growth of to be the The Germans are said world as regards true. however. to say No. morganatic wedlock. only foremost nation of the — and scientific genius. but he who can do nothing more. or. . regiment of soldiers on parade is. If the State. A A according to some philosophers. the unsuccessful attempts at marriage. rather. is determined to hold together. although its realization seems to have many grave difficulties. provisional attempts and remote approximations to a real marriage. A fine concept. man can only become a philosopher. artistic sense Very marriages are only concubinages. he ceases to become one. For this very reason there should here be the least possible restriction of the caprice which may well have a word to say when it becomes a question of whether one is to be an individual in himself or is to be merely an integral part of a corporate personality. on principle. could be made to a marriage a quatre. it thereby impedes the very possibility of marriage. surely can' ' ' ' .

and inspire them with the vibrations of humor. IV— 12 . It will. and life and society poetic poetize wit and fill and saturate the forms of art with sterling material of every kind. It . is now actually happening. What happens Women have absolutely no sense of art. . though they may have of poetry. ." we Wise: God? What it is sort of a God is that who is Who owns owned by a man? " . the phrases always recall the At his philosophy. We ought not to believe that it wise. genius and criticism. . mission is charming and sublime at the Romantic poetry is a progressive universal poetry." " words in Nathan the " my philosophy. Vol. Every great philosopher has always so explained his often unintentionally that it seemed as predecessors though they had not in the least been understood before — — him. They have no natural disposition for the sciences. . artistic poetry and natural poetry make poetry living and social. and their reason a mild laxative for immoderate passion and love. As be approximately like insurgent government. That is beautiful which same time. a transitory condition skepticism is logical insurrection as a system it is anarchy skeptical method would thus . though they may have for philosophy. They are by no means wanting in power of speculation and intuitive perception of the infinite they lack only power of abstraction. also now mingle and now amalgamate poetry and prose. their enlightenment a great snuffer for the flame of enthusiasm.APHORISMS not do it 177 rightly. The taste of these negationists is an admirable shears to cleanse the extremities of genius. and should. which is far more easy to be learned. Its is not merely to reunite all the separate categories of poetry. " in poetry happens never or always otherno true poetry. and to bring poetry into contact with philosophy and with rhetoric.

and only a divinatory criticism might dare to wish to characterize its ideal. and what society. in its turn.178 THE GERMAN CLASSICS \ from the greatembraces everything. like the epic. down to the sigh. too. midway between that which is presented and him who presents. most of all. which the musing child breathes forth in artless song. as it were. and as its first law it recognizes that the arbitrariness of the poet brooks no superior law. it can ever re-intensify this reflection and multiply it as in an endless series of mirrors. poetry itself. can soar. includes many systems system within itself. It is capable of the highest and of the most universal culture not merely from within outward. and a picture of its age. and can now be completely analyzed. for in a certain sense all poetry is. in process of development. if only it is poetic of art which. Other types of poetry are finished. The romantic style of poetry is the only one which is more than a style. and which is. The romantic type of poetry is — — . become a mirror of the entire world that surrounds it. but also from without inward since it organizes similarly all parts of that which is destined to become a whole thus the prospect of an endlessly developing classicism is opened up to it. and yet no form has thus far arisen which would be equally adapted perfectly to express the author's mind. romantic. it. It can so be lost in what it represents that it might be supposed that its one est — and all is the characterization of poetic individuals of every type. indeed. and that it can never be completed. it is its peculiar essence that it can eternally only be in process of development. the kiss. and love are in life. friendship. It alone is infinite. In the ancients every desired — especially himself. or should be. Among the arts romantic poetry is what wit is to philosophy. man has found what he needed or . Romantic poetry alone can. free from all real and ideal interests. on the wings of poetic reflection. even as it alone is free. And yet. so that many artists who desired only to write a romance have more or less described themselves. association. It can be exstill hausted by no theory.

The morality of a book lies not in its theme or relation of the writer to his public. many a little book of which the noisy rabble took scant notice in its day. and if first. it is is If it is merely the work of an isolated power his centre within himself. and Goethe's Wilhelm Meister are the three greatest tendencies of the age. but only at the For without a living centre man cannot exist. Plato 's philosophy the future. It is a peculiar trait of humanity that it must exalt itself above humanity. he does not yet have it within himself he can seek it only in a human being. He who an artist who has He lacks this must not forever. art. and only a human being and his centre can arouse and awaken the artist's own. If this breathes the full abundance of humanity. but in the spirit of the treatment. has not yet risen to the broad and Even in our lofty viewpoint of the history of mankind. outside himself — naturally. plays a greater role than all that this rabble did. is free when he brings God or makes Him in the and thereby he becomes immortal. choose a definite leader and mediator . is a worthy preface to the religion of forth Man visible. is very one-sided and presumptuous to assert that there and in this only one Mediator. for the most part. and whoever can deem no revolution important which is not boisterous and material. Whoever is offended at this juxtaposition. it is moral.APHORISMS 179 The French Revolution. and not moral. Fichte 's Wissenschaftslehre. It is — — He alone can be an artist who has a religion of his own. which. an original view of the infinite. To the ideal Christian respect the unique Spinoza comes nearest to being one everything ought to be a Mediator. meagre resemble a collection of variant readings accompanied by a running commentary the classical text of which has perished. histories of culture.

nor until a few years since had any one been more cheerful and lively than he always he had been at the head . the same time lived in the far west a very good. nothing but stuff Yet he continued silly enough to make one die a-laughing. His parents had never hurt his feelings. and was always thinking about strange things. Woods and caves were his favorite haunts. He constantly grieved. always went about alone and silent. His parents melancholy were greatly grieved. He was healthy and ate well.NOVALIS (Friedrich von Hardenberg) THE STORY OF HYACINTH AND ROSEBLOSSOM Prom The Novices at Sais (1798) TRANSLATED BY LILLIE WINTER ONGr ages ago there guileless youth. over nothing at all. the rose stealing up affectionately behind him would creep through his But his locks. to remain morose and grave in spite of the fact that the He was — squirrel. sat down by himself whenever the others played and were happy. and was well liked by [180] . and his gravity were obstinate. a great heavy stone would caper about ludicrously. they did not know what to do. and the bullfinch took great pains to distract him and lead him into the The goose would tell fairy-tales. and there he talked constantly with birds and animals. Among the girls there was one sweet and very pretty child. She looked as though she were of wax. but at peculiar beyond measure. with rocks and trees naturally not a word of sense. looked like a picture. danced beautivery fully. the long-tailed monkey. the parrot. He was handsome indeed. all the girls. midst of them the brook would tinkle a ballad. and the ivy stroke his careworn forehead. with hair of every game. and in the right path.

. Berlin Eduard Kichens NOVALIS (Friediich von Hardenberg ) ." Permission Bard-Marquardt & Co.


their parents' homes stood near each other. they would see both standing. the gooseberry. Just think. no terror made her change! But on his cheek pressed she her kiss. the house-cats had noticed it. and would often laugh and titter so loudly that the children would hear them and grow angry. he had traveled everywhere. And she had noted naught amiss. ! a strange cloak with many folds and queer figures woven in He seated himself in front of the house that belonged to Hyacinth's parents. and he loved her with all his life. cherished a heart-felt affection for the handsome Hyacinth. good and kind.STORY OF HYACINTH AND ROSEBLOSSOM like silk 181 lips as red as cherries. and she never stopped taunting when Hyacinth passed so that very soon the whole garden and the goods heard the news. children did not to tell know it. A little violet The other had been the first to be sure. there- Hyacinth was standing at night at his window and Roseblossom at hers. When. But when she felt the face was strange. Her mother Hyacinth she thought And to embrace him forthwith sought. and whenever Hyacinth went out they called on every side Little Roseblossom is my sweetheart!" Now Hyacinth was vexed. had a long beard. and sing . fore. Now Hyacinth was very curious and sat down beside him and fetched him bread and wine. a figure like a eyes black as the raven. his name. she told it to her friend. deep-set eyes. little doll. ' * : : Little Koseblossom. that was spun of gold. and again he could not help laughing from the bottom of his heart when the lizard would come sliding up. how soon did all this bliss pass away along a man from foreign lands. that was her name. Then the man parted his white beard and told stories until it. Suddenly was stricken blind. wag his little tail. and the pussies ran by on a mousehunt. seat himself on a warm stone. terrible eyebrows. . for them. At that time Roseblossom. Such was her charm that whoever saw her might have pined away with love. There came Alas. The violet had confided it to the strawberry.

my peace is gone. aston- ishingly wondrous things.182 late at night THE GERMAN CLASSICS and Hyacinth did not stir nor did he tire of listening. nowhere . strange old well again . for Hyacinth was all eagerness for his tales and cared for nothing. I do not that I must get and urged me to Perhaps I shall be know what is the matter. I must go in quest of them. for from that time on he paid to her and always kept to himself. however. I should like to tell you whither. heart burns. across mountains ! ' ' and streams. and wine to take along and had accompanied him a long way. His parents lamented and shed tears. not. rocks and trees. Say good-bye to Roseblossom for me. Farewell He tore himself away and departed. Roseblossom kept in her chamber and wept bitterly. As far as one could learn afterward the man had related much about foreign lands. woman in the forest told me she threw the book into the fire come to you and ask for your blessing. For her my . Roseblossom grieved for him little very pitifully. Finally the man took his departure. mightier thoughts rush in immediately. Everywhere he asked men and animals. staying there three days and creeping down into deep pits with Hyacinth. for the sacred goddess (Isis). The youth had even given him fruit. but I do not know myself thither where dwells the mother of all things. Roseblossom cursed the old sorcerer enough. Then he came back melancholy and began an entirely new mode of life. He fell on his parents' neck and I must depart for foreign lands. some were silent. whenever I want to think of old times. he said the ' ' ' ' . my courage and love with it. the veiled virgin. came about that he returned home one day and one new-born. Some laughed. without leaving Hyacinth a booklet that not a soul could read. toward the mysterious country. back soon. scarcely even eating a little food. perhaps never more. I should have liked to speak to her. unknown regions. attention Now was it like ' ' wept. bread. Hyacinth now hastened as fast as he could through valleys and wildernesses. something drives me away.

and his inner unrest was calmed. He became more tranquil and the violent excitement within him was gradually transformed to a gentle but strong impulse. noisier and happier the birds and animals. the path more level green bushes attracted . Just walk upward in the direction from which we are coming and you will be sure to learn more." he said. and finally reached that long-sought dwelling concealed behind . 183 he passed through wild. faster it faster passed the Time. are only passing through this region. offered him a drink of fresh water. it was always storming. a family and we are making ready the road and preparing lodgings for them. and as he wandered his mood changed. and you are probably better acquainted here than I. the air blue. of spirits is traveling ' ' the flowers answered ' * . and went on. darker the ness. balmier the fruits." The flowers and the spring smiled as they said this. With familiar words they ' ' " greeted him kindly. Now. too. with quiet and freshMightier and mightier grew within him that sweet longing. pray. too. and yet they heart with verdant colors. My dear countrymen." " We. heavens. where am I to find the sacred abode of Isis ? It must be somewhere in this vicinity. which took possession of his whole nature. but we came through a region lately where we heard her name called. mist and clouds obstructed his path. Hyacinth followed their advice. asked and asked. later he found unbounded deserts of glowing hot sand. their pleasant shade but he did not understand their language. It seemed as though many years lay behind him. as though proaching the goal. knew that it and was ap- One day he came upon a crystal spring and a bevy of flowers that were going down to a valley between black columns reaching to the sky. nor did they seem to speak. broader and softer the leaves. warmer the air and more fiery his love. first At warm and him with filled his the region again became richer and more varied. time seemed to grow longer.STORY OF HYACINTH AND ROSEBLOSSOM did he receive an answer. uninhabited regions.

. . To the tune of charming melodies and in changing harmonies did his dream guide him mysteriously through endless apartments things. the outpourings of their longing. and excluded all that was alien from this delightful spot. His heart beat with infinite longing and the most delicious yearning thrilled him in this abode of the eternal seasons. After that lived many years with Roseblossom near his Hyacinth happy parents and comrades. and innumerable grandchildren thanked the mysterious old woman for her advice and her fire for at that time people got as many children as they wanted. shimmering veil and Roseblossom fell into his arms. He lifted the filmy. since naught but dreams might lead him to the most sacred place.184 THE GERMAN CLASSICS palms and other choice plants. filled with curious Everything seemed so familiar to him and yet amid a splendor that he had never seen then even the last tinge of earthliness vanished as though dissipated in the air. Amid heavenly fragrance he fell into slumber. and he stood before the celestial virgin. From afar a strain of music accompanied the mystery of the loving reunion. .

the soil of history. Germanity "Where children are. throughout. begin to consider? pure Past. and therefore an ideal. spectres rule. the symbol of youth. [185] to art. also be fable. was a portion of Germanity. foregone freedom.APHORISMS* By Novalis TRANSLATED BY FREDERIC H. The more sinful man is to is. Permission Porter . and ends with the everlasting kingdom. To pray he make religion. in general. Only by comparing ourselves. : Spirit is now active here and there when will Spirit be active in the whole? When will mankind. HEDGE HERE no gods are. feels himself. holy city. with other rational beings. and therefore. to proper sense. as men. in the mass. It has played an important part in history. could we know what we of Christ is truly are. & Coates. is the golden age. the more Christian enjoyment Christianity in the * is opposed to science. with the The history of every man should be a Bible. what position we it is occupy. Prayer is to religion what thinking is to philosophy. Nature is The antithesis of body and spirit is one of the most remarkable and dangerous of all antitheses. there is genuine popularity. The best thing that the French achieved by their Revolution. only that history is history which might The Bible begins gloriously with Paradise. as surely poetry as history. The history And. Philadelphia.

not the dead. Accordingly. is he by nature. in eternal selfaction. and with cool sleep refreshes itself for new life and contemplation. could suddenly believe. in sincerity. according to analogy. equivocal letter. It inspires the great majority of the limited on earth. Sin is The greatest of miracles If a is a virtuous act. day is the consciousness of Light is the planet. Everything absolute must quit the world. the symbol of genuine self-possession. when all men will be convinced that there can be no king without a republic. too. understands virtue and Christianity. one planet after another closes one eye for a longer or shorter time. here. the highest fact in the domain of the popular. It is the germ of all democracy. inspires the centre. and while the sun. Well for it if it ostracizes itself. he would be so. Accord- ingly. earthly. like a god.186 It THE GEEMAN CLASSICS goes forth from the common man. The true king will be a republic. that he was moral. and no republic without a king. So much the better only the unlike attracts. indeed the real evil in the world. This should be our teacher of religion. man We need not fear to admit that man has a preponderating tendency to evil. for Everything distinguished (peculiar) deserves ostracism. . time will come. the true republic a king. there is religion. He who understands sin. that both are as inseparable as A body and soul. All faith is miraculous. For is the life of the planets aught else but sun-worship? The Holy Ghost is more than the Bible. is the action of the selfcontact of matter. All calamity proceeds from that. and worketh miracles. himself and the world. Therefore light. and that soon.

A vidual space-filling individual is a is a soul. a time-filling indi- It should be inquired whether Nature has not essentially changed with the progress of culture. nothing can be forced. heavenly quietism. Man is the Messiah of Nature. is 187 no wit. Life is is a disease of the spirit. the cure is the Inoculation with death. Sickness necessary to indi- vidualization. The idea of a perfect health scientific is interesting only in a is point of view. would make them astonished at themselves. plant. and also be stone. he can element. Every sickness musical solution. will not be wanting in some future universal therapy. of themselves. Wit shows a disturb- Most people know not how interesting they are. All activity ceases when knowledge comes. most penetrating and diffusible stimulus. . there 'is a continuous redemption in Nature. body. too. so. If God could be man. a record and estimate of their sayings. blest repose of contemplation. comes gravitation. It is the The soul is the most powerful of all poisons.APHORISMS In cheerful souls there ance of the equipbise. is a musical problem. also. a passionate activity. As nothing can be but spirit. The state of knowing is eudcemonism. what true representation interesting things they really utter. animal. would help them to A discover in themselves an entirely new world. Rest From the spirit the peculiar property of the spirit. free. in this way. perhaps.

the more positive we become. All enjoyment is musical. . Everything appears to stream in upon us. as creative idealism. a glance at the veritable outward. are amathematical. wills gods. One can be a great cipherer without a conception of mathematics. there is no more negative. fate which oppresses us is the sluggishness of our By enlargement and cultivation of our activity. ''What we so term. But there are no miracles in this sense. because we do not stream out. fit for married life and family life. Permanent power is stuff. mathematics appears formally. terior — glance into our inis at the same time ascension. but only its conceive . We off glance. We are negative. generally. Every act of introversion — every Only so far as a man is happily married to himself. In music. ¥ God as personal. at God last. until. because we choose to be so. and we are all in all. as contradictions of Nature. Instinct is genius in Paradise.188 THE GERMAN CLASSICS Miracles. The secret of this confession is the life-principle of the only true and eternal love. conse- quently mathematical. The highest life is mathematics. God is just as personal and as individual as we are for what we call I is not our true 7. we change ourselves into fate. before the period of ( self -recognition ) . going up to heaven. All power appears only in transition. is intelligible precisely by means of mathematics for noth. self- abstraction The spirit. the more negative will the world around us be. as revelation. is he One must never confess that one loves one's self. ing is miraculous to mathematics. just as we conceive ourselves personal. There may be mathematicians of the first magnitude who cannot cipher.

manifold-fashioned beast. dreams of childhood. melodious lips. sunk in a deep vault void and lonely is its place. Deep melancholy is wafted through the chords of the breast. with its beams and its waves. Like a king of terrestrial nature it calls every power to countless transformations. sparkling and ever at rest. and lightly floats in its azure flood. loves not ardent. the stone breathes it. Downward I turn my eyes to Night. the airy step. and the lightly-closed. Will it perchance never return to its childesires of youth. as were it the innermost soul of life. Far below lies the world. but above all the glorious stranger with the thoughtful eyes. that hath. (1800) THOMAS life and the gift of perception. its mild omnipresence as the arousing day? The giant world of restless stars breathes it. and the savage. ineffable. In drops of dew I'd fain sink down and mingle with the ashes. the holy. Its presence alone reveals the marvelous splendor of the realms of the world. long life's brief and vain hopes appear in gray garments like the evenjoys ing mist after sunset. dren. the all-gladdening. HO. dost thou also take pleasure in us? What hast thou beneath thy mantle which touches my soul with invisible force ? Precious balsam drops from the bunch [189] . mysterious. Light has pitched its gay tents in other regions. . it forms and dissolves innumerable alliances and surrounds every earthly creature with its heavenly effulgence. more than all the marvels seen far and wide in the space about him Light. with its colors. and the dreamy. drinking plant. who What are waiting for it with the faith of innocence ? is it that suddenly wells up so forebodingly from beneath the heart and smothers the gentle breath of melancholy? Dark Night. Far-off memories.HYMN TO NIGHT By Novalis TRANSLATED BY PAUL B.

. ! . to the high harbinger She sends of holy worlds. gentle sweetheart. Farther they see than the palest of those numberless hosts not needing light.190 THE GERMAN CLASSICS of poppies in thy hand. * Translator : Charles Wharton Stork. filling a higher space with unspeak. to the fostress of blissful love thee to me. able delight. that I may ethereally blend with thee. My faith shall be the same. which gently and reverently bends over me. How poor and childish does Light seem to me now! How joyful moved. for I am thine and mine thou hast proclaimed to me that night is life and made a man of me. they fathom the depths of a loving heart. Consume my body with spiritual earnest face. Now I am awake. and amid endlessly entangled locks shows the sweet youth of the mother. From Spiritual Songs (1799). "THOUGH NONE THY " NAME SHOULD CHERISH * Though none Thy Name should cherish. vaguely and inexpressibly we feel ourselves Joyously fearful. and then the bridal night may last forever. because Night turns thy servants from thee. and blessed the departure of day! Only for that reason. didst thou scatter in the wide expanse of space the shining stars. I see . then. Thou raisest up the heavy wings of the soul. With joy then I would offer This heart for aye to Thee. Praise be to the queen of the world. lovely sun of the night. Lest gratitude should perish And earth be brought to shame. With meekness Thou did 'st suffer The pangs of death for me. during the periods of thine absence? More heavenly than those twinkling stars seem to us the everlasting eyes which Night has opened within us. to make known thine omnipotence and thy return.



if it be Thy will. Be present with me still ! At length too shall the others Look up and long for rest.NOVALIS: POEMS I 191 weep with strong emotion That death has been Thy yet that lot. Yet who in any nation Regards what Thou hast done 1 With love Thou hast protected Each man his whole life through Though all Thy care rejected. earth's confusion fadeth Like to a dream. The blessings of salvation Thy perfect love has won. thy loveliness. oh Mary. devoutly tender. Oh. And all my loving brothers Shall sink upon Thy breast. Have sought thy beauty to express. Translator: Charles From Spiritual Songs (1799). and leaves behind A heaven of sweetness which pervadeth My * whole rapt being Wharton Stork. none can render. But none. As my I gaze till soul sees. — heart and mind. Be evermore around me. And to Thy knees Thine influence hath bound me. Such love as Thine must vanquish The proudest soul at last. . TO THE VIRGIN* A thousand hands. And Thy devotion Thy people have forgot. Thee in anguish cling fast. 'Twill turn to . No less would 'st Thou be true.

they vanish. Free of fate as the slumbering Infant. EVENING PHANTASIE* . 'tis our portion. And their rapture-lit eyes Shine with a tranquil Unchanging lustre. * Translator : Charles Wharton Stork. breathe the divine ones. Guarded well In the firm-sheathed bud Blooms eternal Each happy soul . The suffering mortals. cliff-side to cliff-side. [192] . Like waves that are driven From Endlessly down the uncertain abyss.FRIEDRICH HOLDERLIN HYPERION'S SONG OF FATE* E wander there in the light On flower-soft fields. But we. And sweet to wand'rers comes the tone of Evening bells from the peaceful village. Hurtling from one hard Hour to another. We never may be at rest. (1799) Before his hut reposes in restful shade The ploughman wreaths of smoke from his hearth ascend. Radiant godlike zephyrs Touch you as gently As the hand of a master might Touch the awed lute-string. (1799) ye blest immortal Spirits. They stumble.

Permission E. Linde & Co. Hades FRIEDRICH HOLDERLIN . E.


HOLDERLIN The In distant : POEMS 193 sailor too puts into the haven now. in alternate rest and toil Contentment dwells. thou restless dream-pursuer Peaceful and happy shall age then follow. IV— 13 . as if dispelled by the foolish prayer. soft Sleep. the golden world Seems wrapt in peace. cities cheerily dies away The busy tumult. bear me thither. and lonely Under the heaven I stand as erstwhile. Purple-wrought clouds! And may for me ! there Both love and grief dissolve in the joyous light But see. oh. in the arbor Gleams the festal repast of friendship. Overmuch requires ! The heart and yet thou too at the last shalt fade. The wonder fades 'Tis dark. The ev 'ning heaven blooms as with springtime 's hue Uncounted bloom the roses. . Vol. youth. but why then sleeps not Hid in my bosom the thorn unsparing? . ! Come Oh then to me. But whither II In We labor. for slight reward mortals live.

Court scholar his daughter Nathaniel of Malsinki The Prompter A Shoemaker A Historian Hanswurst. a prologue and an epilogue. TRANSLATED BY LILLIE WINTER.A. [194] . a tom-cat A Tavern-keeper Fischeb MtJLLEB Botticher Leutner Wiesener Wiesener's neighbor Elephants Lions Bears Michel An l^osonte officer A Bugbear A Peace-maker Eagles and other birds A rabbit A The Playwright Soldier Two Htissars Two Lovers Servants Musicians Partridges Jupiter Terkaleon The Machinist Spirits Monkeys The Public. B. DRAMATIS PERSONS The King The Princess.LUDIVIG TIECK PUSS IN BOOTS ( 1 797) A fairy-tale for children in three acts. with interludes. A Peasant Prince Leander. Court fool A Groom of the Chamber The Cook LORENZ "| Babthel [-Peasant brothers Gottlieb J Hinze.



bill says : A Fairy-tale A fairy-tale ? But in Heaven 's name. what do you think of today's play? I should be Muller. something like a jest. that wouldn 't be bad. Now Muller. in the pit Say. that they want to present such pieces for us? They certainly won't put Fischer. Anything but that the for Children. Schlosser. the candles are already lighted. the musicians are gathered in the orchestra. It turn out to be a regular picture of domestic life. Fischer. . enlightenment has borne its natural fruits. It an actual cat on the stage. Without music it is absurd. Herr Muller. Schloss. Fischer. we 're not children. I do hope they're not going to present that child's play at the theatre. my dear friend. but I am curious. people talking in confusion. if I may may call it that. and the cat is only a joke. etc. will they? may turn out to be an imitation of the new Muller. SCHLOSS. are we. the play? : Do you know Not at all. for I 've been wishing this long while to see some time such a wonderful opera without music. some arriving. Fischer. Muller. such superstition. a motive. HE scene is laid in the pit. Arcadians.PUSS IN BOOTS 195 PROLOGUE T Fischer. Puss in Boots. we're beyond such childish nonsense. A strange title that an opera? . Muller. Botticher. * Why. The theatre is filled. so to speak. is it J ISCHER. a sort of Terkaleon. more likely to expect the sky to fall in than to see such a play at our theatre. for.

what sort of play we're havr-rn 1 ? [1 he i music begins. Many voices. The age of these phantoms is past. Fischer. Good evening. For a change. jects for the drama But how are they going to dress the cat? I wonder whether he wears real boots? ! —And Leutner. the author thinks. how are Do So tell us. Why. For my part I Schloss. after all? Leutner. I agree with you. Muller. v late already? Why. indeed.196 THE GERMAN CLASSICS To tell Schloss. too. why not Bluebeard too. why his name is even on the bill.'] Leutner. of course. Is helping? The author? The cat? So a cat will appear. not to mention Puss in Boots. • • Leutner. there comes Leutner. give if honest opinion. [Leutner pushes himself through the crowd. I've come I in the nick of time. who's playing that part? — — The strange actor. You'll see as far I'm not right. Muller. About the play? . good evening! you? Well. But shall we really have such stuff played to us ? We've come here out of curiosity.] x. the great man. Fischer. I take the whole spread sentiment among them suggestions. have just been speaking with the author he is at the theatre and helping dress the tom-cat. Fischer. . am just as impatient as all of you. I Fischer. Muller. as I can understand. for otherwise the style would be horribly offensive. I say. you my thing to be a trick to the people. but still we have taste. Yes. will ing tonight 00 you. and Prince Kobold? Indeed! Some excellent subLeutner. A fine change. perhaps he can tell us more. A revolutionary play. must admit I never could believe in witches or spirits. Indeed? But how can they possibly play such nonsense? Leutner. to be sure.

either. the others fall in. I'll make a start. we really ought to let them go through the play. Wiesener. Well. A Candle-snuffer. The play will begin immediately. Consider a young beginner We want to know nothing about beginners we want to see a decent play a play in good — — taste ! Playwr. and therefore we will have our own good taste and no farces. shall the police be sent in? Leutner. Gentlemen. What does this pounding mean? Leutner. for. good taste I am puzzled what do you mean. (All are Schloss. we represent the public. stamping. Muller. 197 (Re stamps with his feet. then I won 't be the Voices. We have paid. (He stamps.PUSS IN BOOTS I feel like making a noise. What sort? Domestic sisters that. now. stories — elopements — brothers from the country — something What kind? and like [The Author comes out from behind the curtain. Schloss. too. now wise everything will go to ruin. afterward we'll pound so hear us out doors. All. All. Schloss.) Wiesener (on the other side). Leutner. or you can't hear the music. we've given thev'll our money anyhow. Muller. No play — we ! want no play ! — we want good taste Playwr.] . if I may ask? Good taste! Are you an author and don't even know what good taste means? Good taste — Playwr. (behind the scenes). — — — — The Playwright Muller. That's to rescue good taste. I say. art rules othertaste No.) Be quiet. It's rather cold. after all. last.) But.

He doesn't talk badly. good fellow! When I heard your worthy stamping nothing has ever frightened me so. it con- Fischer. . otherwise I should be sunk in despair without further ado. Muller. Muller. I am still pale and trembling and do not myself comprehend how I have attained to the courage of thus appear- A — ing before you. and that from them there is no appeal. Gentlemen pardon my boldness. I am sorry for him. I wanted to make an attempt to furnish amusement by means of humor. you trained yourself? Grant me just one minute 's audience before you lic condemn me. and I am assured they will not frighten me away from Fischer.) Playwr. I know that the honorable pubmust pass judgment on the author. How can you write such plays? — Why haven't Playwr. then! (All clap. soles me to some extent. but I know the justice of an honorable public. His hair isn't even trimmed. Schloss. and hope I have been successful. a course in which I so need their indulgent guidance. Playwr. Schloss. All. Fischer. He I He's more courteous than I thought. Well. has respect for the public. since our newest plays so seldom afford us an opportunity to laugh. Playwr. He doesn't look much like an author.198 THE GERMAN CLASSICS Gentlemen Is that the author? Playwr. Playwr. Impertinent fellow! Muller. am ashamed to present to such illustrious judges the modest inspiration of my is only the skill of our actors which Muse still . clap. Leutner. Fischer. after all. by cheerfulness and real jokes.

Permission Velhagen & Klasing.C.s w- »*i . / Site. Bielefeld and Leipzig MORITZ VON SCHWIND PUSS IN BOOTS . f.


and the play will begin. second after me. is lying on a bench by the stove. Leutner (in the pit). gets the ox. Gottlieb. but you certainly mustn't know that so quickly. don't you. Barthel. Leutner. our Lorenz. honored sirs. Muller. where you are? Leutner.) Bravo Bravo All. . not throw the matter right into his teeth. Bravo Bravo Bravo! Bravo! (They clap. Yes. That 's certainly true He's right that man. an ox. All. ! ! consists in getting at it little by little. SCHLOSS. Barthel.) I leave you. For Heaven's sake! Did any one ever see such an exposition Just see how far dramatic art has degenerated But I understand everything perfectly well. the deceased has left only three pieces of a horse. But now you know. to decide now whether — ! ! ! rejected entirely trembling. will take the horse.PUSS IN BOOTS MULLER. Da capol[All are laughing. property — as the eldest. I withdraw. the very best part of the fun I. Muller. my attempt is to be — (He bows very respectfully and goes ! ! be- hind the curtain. I think that after the death of our father. The music begins again.] ACT I Small room in a peasant's cottage Lorenz. Voices from the gallery. why. You know little fortune can be divided easily. Leutner. and that cat there. you should give the spectator a cunning suggestion. meanwhile the curtain rises. That's just the trouble. The tom-cat Hinze. and so the cat is naturally left for our youngest brother. 199 Playwr.

So then we're going now. I must really sell him. Good-bye. I think. Probably Fischer. We all three have our lodgings. to be sure. [He walks tip and down. of course.] Well. don't you. I am — — — sorry I brought him up. you see now. There he lies asleep quite comfortably poor Hinze! Soon we shall have to part. to do with my cat? At the most. Lorenz. can till the ground with his horse. that it's going to be a touching picture of family life? The peasant is poor and without money. in the direst need. dear Gottlieb. farewell. lost in thought. They are going away and I am alone. Gottlieb. it is an imitation of Kotzebue's here the bird is replaced by a cat and Parrot. [Exit the brothers.] Gottlieb (alone). Schloss. . and so you must grant us some privileges. I can have a muff for the winter made out of his fur. unfortunately you are the youngest. I canmyself not help myself. — Mullee. Gottlieb.200 THE GERMAN CLASSICS fied Barthel. brother Gottlieb. Barthel can slaughter and pickle his ox and live on it a while but what am I. he will sell his faithful pet to some susceptible young lady. the play runs on of itself. now. I am satis- fied too. poor unfortunate. and in the end that will be the foundation of his good fortune. Yes. I could almost begin to cry. don 't let time hang heavy on your hands. He looks at me as though he understood. you will also be satiswith this division. but I think he is even shedding it now. But why doesn 't the court of awards interfere the inheritance I in What improbabilities ! Lobenz. I know him as I know but he will have to believe me. Now that it's working out this way.

cat speak in all my life. Gottlieb. all Well. ! ! give way entirely to their vanity. why do you disclose all this to me? Because you are a good. yawns. Why I should not should I not be able to speak. one of the few who take no delight in servility and slavery. beings. Because we do not join in every conversation. I think your only business is to catch mice. stretches. puss. we can act so clumsily that human beings quite give up the idea of training us. Hinze. we cats still continue to be the freest race because. Hinze. see. we could Gottlieb. But why don't you give one an opportunity to discover you ? any That's to avoid responsibility. pray? It's impossible for Fischer.PUSS IN BOOTS Hinze. My dear Gottlieb sympathize with you. you are speaking? Critics (in the pit). a noble man. they must world. Gottlieb. 201 then speaks). The What. arches his back. that is why fully. Rather than let myself be disappointed like this I never want to see another play all my life. The cat is talking? What does that mean. that! What isn't the dog compelled to do and learn The horse They are foolish animals to show their intelligence. with all our skill. for if once the power of speech were inflicted on us so-called animals. the tom-cat (rises. Gottlieb? have suspected it I never heard a . I really — Gottlieb (astonished). Gottlieb. I disclose myself to you completely and . me to get the proper illusion here. If we had not. Muller. Hinze. But Hinze. there wouldn't be any joy left in the I'll own speak. got a certain contempt for speech. you think we 're nothing but dogs. in our intercourse with human Hinze.

and for all see the so-called electrical sparks — this I now want to show ! my gratitude. Master Gottlieb. You are a good man. Why I feel as Hinze. Schloss. they would accustom our good nature to everything. for example.202 THE GERMAN CLASSICS Gottlieb {gives him his hand). doubting your My eyes are being loyalty and devotion! opened is — how my knowledge of human nature Fischer. Alas. and Michel. Master Gottlieb. you are somewhat narrow. be- me. increasing and so unexpectedly! Friends. would even at times be pleased to jump through a hoop for the king. though I were in a dream. knew how lieve to secure ourselves against blows. to speak out freely. no Hinze. almost too nonsensical. to go with me into the dark. But if they to manage us in the right way. . but. You I love you. Gottlieb. your neighbor's tom-cat. what you want to do. how unjustly do they speak ill of you and scornfully. Good friend! Human beings labor under the delusion that the Hinze. Noble-hearted Hinze Ah. You don't ! know now. You're right in that. Gottlieb. do not take it ill of me. only remarkable thing about us is that instinctive purring which arises from a certain feeling of comfort for that reason they often stroke us awkwardly and then we usually purr . not one of the confined it is — best heads. Hinze. where has our hope for a picture of family life gone to? Leutner. very much. Gottlieb. you have objected whenever your brothers wanted to take me up. have never stroked me the wrong way. you have let me sleep when I felt like it.

Hinze. a certain manliness to which one never attains in shoes. they must lend me some dignity. Well. Hinze. Hinze. a favor and bring the shoeto take my measure for a The shoemaker? Boots? Hinze. 203 Hinze. do me maker immediately pair of boots. no. Yes. I'll see that I take even better care of you. 0. If you had a nmfr made out of my fur Do not take it amiss. you are yet to become very happy through me. but in accomplishing what I intend to do for you. it was an altogether human thought. Gottlieb. Depend upon it. I with the motto. Homo sum but should be willing to collaborate with you that is too much bother. in short. most noble man. But you must Entirely. (He embraces him tenderly. Gottlieb. Gottlieb. Why.) Hinze. spirit. Gottlieb. that this just passed through idea my mind. You might publish a journal or a German paper. you do not understand the matter. comrade. Can you think of no way of managing? Not a thing! Hinze. also trust me. Master Gottlieb. or a novel. Gottlieb. No. You are surprised.PUSS IN BOOTS Gottlieb. then. — — Gottlieb. Gottlieb. an imposing air. Why. Well. but that support. is for never a sure means of Gottlieb. I have to walk and run so much that I have to wear boots. But why not shoes? Hinze. best. . You might carry me around and show me money. now I realize your honorable Hinze. You read my thoughts perfectly.

. as you think best. I have very little to do now. In the first place. but for my young friend Shoemak. friends. me? As you like. too why do you still want to stand on ceremony with Hinze. stiff. Gottlieb. For this one here ? Very well. have a measure with me. Hey! Pst! Friend Leichdorn! Will you please stop a moment? Shoemak.) they must be finished quickly. then brown flaps. indeed why. good soles. THE GERMAN CLASSICS Well. There's the shoemaker passing. do call me by my first name. . my friend. pussy? Hinze. Shoemak. I should to have another pair of boots I made Shoemak Please Gottlieb. .] What's the news? have ordered no work from you for a long bless you! time. Gottlieb. above all things. Gottlieb. I [The shoemaker comes in. No. all in like all. my conversation with you has But another actually become quite easy! now that we have become such good thing. God Gottlieb. Not for myself. (He takes the measure. — a/ Hinze. HlNZE. Shoemak.204 Gottlieb. and. And is (He takes the measure. Shoemak. Not . Gottlieb. Now how should you like it. take a seat. there. .) Shoemak. at all we must act only as if it were nothing remarkable that I should wish to wear boots one gets used to everything. Hinze (sits on a chair and holds out his right leg). Very well. Yes. The pussy comfortable.) Will you or be so kind as to draw vour claws in a bit rather nails ? I have already scratched myself. being stroked he begins to is (As his leg purr involun- tarily. but the shoemaker will be surprised.

too. must know that cats immeand you certainly diately become unmanly after that. Gottlieb. [Exit. Don't worry. Meanwhile. What nonsense — — ! . or it's possible that he wants to make a bid for favor with the shoemaker and then go into his service. I want to warn you not to let Hinze. 205 He has just Yes. Now if the cat had no conscience. Gottlieb. stroking his whiskers forgive me. have your whisk- On no much more respectable. Natural history always says that cats cannot be trusted and that they belong to the lion family. my fine friend. Now walk on the roofs there 's a fine. he could run away from me afterward with the boots for which I must now give my last penny and then sell them somewhere for nothing. my brothers have betrayed me." [Exit. Wouldn't you perhaps ers trimmed too? Hinze. [Exit. Gottlieb. No. Well. what they usually call a " smarty. As a good friend. open view there and you're likely to catch a dove a little . he was so touched roof yonder. A tomaccount. If I only knew what you are planning! I want to take You'll find out in due time. good-bye. I look so cat without whiskers is but a contemptible creature. I'm not a novice. he's a good-humored fellow.] like to Shoemak. Hinze.PUSS IN BOOTS Gottlieb. Gottlieb (alone). that I could even for a moment doubt your magnanimity. But he has a tom-cat already.] Fischek. Hinze.] good-bye. yourself be caught at it. come from school. and now I will try my luck with you. and I am in such fearful dread of a lion. He spoke so there he sits on the nobly.

may her ashes rest in peace among her royal age — she see. The Princess. Princess. his daughter thousand handsome princes. croivn and sceptre. For a marriage without love. they A say. I : ! ! ! have my tale to tell. she wore the crown with an indescribable air of majesty but she gave me very little peace. Princess. memory of it returns to me. I have always believed that my heart must first feel certain emotions before my neck would bow under the yoke of marriage. but you have continued to refuse them. is truly hell upon earth. That is right. Hall in the royal palace The King with King. does the cat need those boots for? Silly stuff! — to be able to walk better? seems as though I saw a cat before me. have already sued for your hand and laid their kingdoms at your feet. Princess. the scene is Leutner. indeed. — ah. if only I were not qualified to Indeed I should have preferred to discuss it remain ignorant But as it is. Ah. My most gracious father. Be still. When the excites yourself too much. do knees I would entreat you It is a great truth be careful in marrying! that linen and a bridegroom must not be bought by candle-light. my precious daughter. on my —my . Schloss. dear treasure.206 THE GERMAN CLASSICS What But it Muller. as they say. memory Your rush to my eyes even in my old was a good queen. the tears — relatives. Your majesty King. have you spoken words of truth a hell on earth Alas. changing. indeed. Tell us the reason for this. my dear daughter. Well. my consort of blessed mother. a truth which should child. King. my treasure.

my blessed Klothilde My eyes smart I am a real old fool. He's an excellent sovereign. for. King. Schloss. love is. the most emotion can ruin us moreover. all consolation are gone. it isn't dinner-time yet. Fischer. — — ! Princess {tenderly). ) Fischer. a magic cup instead of nectar we often drink poison then our pillow is wet with tears all hope. I do not understand at all. Applause is heard in the care. daughter. . Schloss. can also ject — make you blissful miserable. My father! I tremble to think of the dangers that face you. then. sound common sense. . ah! you should just see what thick books wise men have filled on this subsee. why. also moved. even if you do fall in love now. {He kisses her and leaves the hall. And still my spirit somealways times yearns for you. . The Princess {alone). your very passion. in which you can find I Muller. Take my pit. Now he didn't exactly have to appear with a am crown. {The sound of a trumpet is heard. my daughter.) Why. That's a scene for you. What did I suffer! No day passed without a quarrel I could not sleep peacefully. not one of the princes has yet touched my heart . could not read a book interrupted.PUSS IN BOOTS 207 be found in every book. . could not conduct my administrative business quietly. is it? Probably another new prince who wants to fall in love with you. you are my only child. I could not think I was of anything. as it were. . and you do not realize how near my heart your happiness lies. It entirely spoils the sympathy one feels for him as an affectionate father. The happiest.

That's the obstinacy of language. so to speak. The Unhappy Misbegun a piece anthrope. your Royal Highness! (They sit down. beautifully conBut with your most gracious permisceived sion! The moon shines sadly down in the world. I have entitled it Thoughts at Night. Naturally you keep going farther you keep rising higher. Beautifully conceived! Truly. and is always thinking of my happiness if only he did not have such a hasty temper! But fortune and mis- warnings. Leander (reads). The Princess. Master Leancler. or. Leander. is my essay. Princess. I have also : the time.208 THE GERMAN CLASSICS with love. I will note that for the future. Lost Peace and Restored Innocence ! . I always keep in is mind my father's a great sovereign and nevertheless a good father too. fortune are always coupled thus. Princess. Now might try my hand at moonlight descriptions. he . Don't vou think so? I all Leander. My joy I find in the arts and sciences. Very well. did you write it? Yesterday noon. When Leander. it's too stupid that poetry should be made so hard for us one can 't write five or six lines without making a mistake. ! It is scarcely comprehensible Indescribably! how a feminine mind could write such a thing. Leander. Leander. after dinner. Well. Here. Are not the emotions tenderly and delicately phrased Leander. Princess. read: into the world. it should ! Princess. the court scholar. .) Princess. Princess. If you will not take it amiss. for books constitute all my happiness. Excellent! Inspired! Ah! I feel as though I hear the hour of midnight striking.

[Exit. Indeed astonishing. as you see her before you. Your obedient servant. Do not worry about that. a young. Leander.] arrived. to pay their addresses to my daughter. simple creature. if it were not for those gram- matical errors! Leander. is my daughter. glad to have the pleasure of making your acquaintance.) Be polite.PUSS IN BOOTS Leander. (Aside. ! Groom. As I said before. Beautiful Princess. courteous. he is an illustrious prince from afar. topography is such a very extensive in what region does your country subject — and now — I beg your the way from is fine — lie? Vol. of Malsinki. And then I feel an incomprehensible desire within me to write some horrible ghost story.] wishes to wait on your royal highness. Nathan. incomparable princess They are easily corrected. The Prince [Groom from the Chamber who has just enters. IV — 14 . I have already looked it up I have an amazing amount of respect for him. [Exit. Princess. his country is not even on my map. especially when the weather you have come all pardon. The King King. kingdoms there are ! it is how many countries and You would not believe how many thousand crown-princes have been here already.] Prince Nathaniel of Malsinki. 209 Even the title itself is fascinating. the report of your beauty has been spread so widely over the whole world that I have come here from a far distant corner for the happiness of seeing you I am face to face. my daughter. King. Princess. sometimes they arrive by dozens. Here. Prince. .

you travel from here first down the great highway. Hush What? ! Nathan. come about that we King. The geography of and then shall it my country is still not exactly fixed. And if.210 THE GERMAN CLASSICS Mighty king. a good friend of mine. bor of the North Pole or Zodiac. for otherwise the audience down there will surely notice that it is Do really very unnatural. and he has a fine country. {softly to him). I will help ! you in your discoveries. all my subjects are very tame. and sail directly then you go to the ocean north (if the wind is favor- able. I should be only too glad to have it But another thing do tell me. turn to the left again. pray. I suppose! Nathan. Nathan. I can't get a clear idea of it yet. if the journey is sucyou reach my dominions in a year and I King. how. Perhaps somewhere near the savages'? I beg your pardon. King. My neighbor is not to speak. then you turn to the right and go on. Hush! hush! I do not understand. if Nathan. Not that I know of. King. cessful. even become neighbors in the end. King. a half. Nathaniel be quiet about it. a few That will be splendid countries still stand in our way. or something like that. But you must live confoundedly far away. The deuce! must have my court scholar ex- You are probably a neighplain that to me. living so far away. all the raisins come from there why. I expect to discover may easily more every day. can you speak our language so ! . . but when you reach a mountain. King. so . of course). after all. fluently ! Nathan. Nathan. and so.

] Cursed improbabilities there are in this play! And the king doesn't remain at all true to his character. too. the Law demands hence I believe that is his real name. aren't you? just called Bugbear. indeed. King. has he Lorenz. . are always laid before the Law. Lorenz. they always read: the good of the public. the author himself always forgetting what he has said the before. The prince should speak an altogether unknown language and have an interpreter with him. ! You are a subject of the king. the King Fischer Schloss precedes. it is Nathan. have to be going again soon I still have a long way home. Why. Leutner. All petitions. the table is set . only for the sake of the drama that I speak your language for otherwise. Prince. a foolish title. Host. Why. Host. come. of course. since she herself admits that she writes incorrectly. nothing but the natural should ever be pre! Muller. He is a fearful man. the matter is incomprehensible. I shall in front of a tavern The Host sitting on a bench. It 211 doesn't matter. Kunz. what do you call your good ruler? He is That is no other name? When — For he has edicts issued. Of course Of course The whole thing is unsented on the stage ! ! questionable is nonsense. ! You ! [The Prince escorts the princess out. Ah. moment The scene is laid Lorenz. Michel are Lorenz. Host. Yes. They clapped before and so I can afford to take a chance.PUSS IN BOOTS King. the princess should make grammatical errors. see. so Well.

Host. I should rather be is king is more dignified. Who can of beer. Michel. A A Host. Well. under a king. . his cloak. too. course. and then he travels around incognito and spies out the sentiments of his subjects. I bet that's another one coming! [A soldier comes running. Is the border line so near? Surely. Now Kunz. ! Quick ! . Host. Lorenz. is not especially gracious. Look. host are you? deserter. that very tree belongs to the king. this border line here is a lucky thing for me.] Host. . because we always think the ruler might probably be inside of them. he is known three hundred paces away. and just because it is so strictly forbidden the fellows get such an exceptional desire to desert. that true of Lorenz. but. you can see from this very spot everything that goes on in his country. that 's the very reason why we trust no cat. They say wonderful things about him the story goes he can transform himself into any animal. Soldier. Lorenz. [Exit. I should have been if the deserters from over bankrupt long ago there had not supported me almost every day several come. he is already in his own country. and his sceptre by these. take care of yourselves. he is justice itself. Cases are even sent to him from abroad and he must settle them. . It is true. a They say the Bugbear is Host. on the other hand. why. He a very ungracious master. Then surely we are in a better position.212 THE GERMAN CLASSICS Still.] Soldier. hard? is Not that but running away so easy. Is the service there so . Host. no strange dog or horse. Our king never goes out without wearing his crown.

a fine. ! when you desert again. What was it 's getting wilder and wilder the purpose of the last scene. Heaven be thanked! ride for the sake of that fellow? Beer. why I must enlist with the Host. Poor fellow. for you.) [Two hussars come riding and dismount. I am going away neighboring duke.PUSS IN BOOTS Michel. Soldier. Here. ! neighbor This is the border. [They shake hands. Well. (Goes into the house. Didn't we have to 2d Huss. host. Why. Leutner. I suppose. deserter! Much luck on your way! [They mount and ride away. gentlemen. thank God. Yes. Will you stay here I No. Exeunt soldier and guests.] Interlude Fischer. 213 Host. ! of the cat is now lost entirely all. Here. Good-bye. exit host into the house. it is entirely superfluous. you are all pretty warm. I will meantime hold your horses Soldier. for otherwise it would be deucedly hard service. .] 1st Huss. Why if he has money. ! ! 2d Huss. there won't be any lack of beer. you rascal To your health Best thanks. Soldier. Perhaps 'twas his love for his parents which made him desert. Well. good that the border is never so very far away. only The theme to introduce some new nonsense. The curtain falls. we must go back. we 've got so far Your health. cool ! Soldiek. host! Host (with several glasses). 1st Huss. do take pity on him. drink. Say. I wonder? Nothing at all. 1st Huss. come and see me Farewell Certainly.] It's The fellow can run! Host. and there is no fixed point of view at .

of course. Wiesener. I'll begin to stamp. for the imagination. I simply can't get the excellent acting of Why. play is coming to. The hussars. as I would rather call his costume. WlESENER (to his neighbor). I say. I did not even look at them carefully. indeed.214 THE GERMAN CLASSICS I feel exactly as though I were intoxicated. I like the play now. but stamp hard. What a study! What art! What observation! What costuming! That is true. no love. The Moors in Kotzebue horse is after all but another kind of Moor. SCHLOSS. I would rather see a good horse than many a human being in the . And Leutner. the author he has imitated the Magic Flute well. tom-cat. he really does look like a large sars. - for my part at least. the man who plays the cat out of my head. Now we haven't the faintest idea of what the ! Fischer. either Nothing in it for the heart. . — more modern plays. Neighbor. And just notice his whole mask. ( to Schloss. I liked the hussars particularly well people seldom take the risk of bringing horses on the and why not ? They often have more stage sense than human beings. very fine. I like the cavalry so much. for since he has so . MiJLLER. are a taking place? recent invention. We simply shouldn't bear it. Do you not know to what regiment the hussars belonged? Neighbor. a great man. As soon as any more of that nonsense occurs. Too bad indeed I'd rather they went away so soon like to see a whole play with nothing but hus- —a — Leutner Bottich. Bottich. Very fine. in what period is the play supposed to be SCHLOSS. What do you think of all this? Botticher). nothing WlESENER. Neighbor.

are suggested in this very fur. time. II in a peasant's house Both are taste good? sitting at a small table and eating Did it Hinze. that expresses his is good-nature excellently. for otherwise I do not know what I am to do. But now my fate must soon be determined. Why. Gottlieb. You were going the cat. that . . It is hard. Fischer. on the contrary. good . I only meant to say all the prethe way. Leutner. he not one of those black cats f No. hence I beg you most earceding by nestly to consider it as a note and. he is almost entirely white and has only a few black spots. to return to the cat. yes and . one then has the adof being able to quote them. all the emotions to which it should appeal. passage in Pausanias. But I say. have you noticed. Hinze. moreover. Gottlieb. more fitting. Very good. The curtain is going up again ! ACT Boom Gottlieb. That is true. in masks. to know all these things so accurately. You probably do not know that the ancients acted all parts. Just have patience a few days longer why. the theme of the whole play. Hinze. There vantage the same is a difficult Fischer. you see. Pollux and others. because one must now and then At look up those books oneself to find them. God bless the ancients when blessing is due. as you will find in Atkenceus. I wonder. very fine. without exception.PUSS IN BOOTS this expression is far 215 completely disguised his natural appearance. however. to be kind enough to speak of Bottich.

who would expect to become happy all of a sudden. The boots fit very nicely. I have great respect for you the boots. Gottlieb (does it). That is only because we always walk on our toes. that happens only in books in the world of reality things do not . Leutner. Are this amount of experience. I have also made myself a bag with a drawing-string. A blessing on good food (They kiss. I am now.216 THE GERMAN CLASSICS fortune must have some time to grow. for I'm afraid I shall go mad. under the impression that it is in vain one lies for days at the stove with one's eyes tight shut? I always kept studying there quietly. so quickly. It looks almost as if that is what the writer intended. so as to look back at the ground one has already covered. the cat dares to speak of the world of reality! I feel almost like going move home. — on account of Hinze (hangs a knapsack about his neck). to be mad. as you must already have read in your natural history. Gottlieb. Now do be kind enough to untie my napkin. Fischer. I must admit ! Gottlieb. dear Hinze. Hinze. If I only knew. In secret and unobserved does is the power of the intelligence grow. how you have come ! by Hinze. then. this intelligence you. A splendid kind of artistic enjoyment. Hinze. Now just listen. Gottlieb. soldier's .) Content yourself with that. going See. hence it a sign that one has made the least progress to crane one 's when one sometimes has a mind neck around as far as possible. and you have a charm! ing little foot. I thank you from the bottom of my heart. so to speak? My good man. Muller.

] Open Hinze (with cane. a thing which is so necessary in company. Why. It's Field such a beautiful. after all. (He spreads Well. Yet. that she always ends up by dis- gracing the intelligence of mortals. the songstress of the grove. right lucky in the ple ! in the bush near-by begins to sing. must content ourselves with their singing.) a his Splendid weather! day. What's it all 217 for? ! Hinze. where Here. when I think that this capricious goddess of fortune so seldom favors shrewdly Of laid plans.PUSS IN BOOTS Gottlieb. (He begins to sing a hunting song: "I steal through the woods so still and wild/' etc. my cane? Hinze. and bag). good-bye. lie must out down bag. They can't do anything but either fawn or bite. my heart a kingdom is certainly worth the trouble of working and sweating some for .) fact that they can eat as many nightingales and larks as they like we poor common people .] hunter? I can't understand the man. I feel as though I should lose all my courage. knapsack. they haven't fashionable manners at all. it is a race that I despise because they so willingly subit! If only there are mit to the lowest servitude to human beings. warm course. then. There's no game to be caught. I can't bear those creatures at all. Gottlieb. [Exit. Just let me is alone I want to be a hunter. A Well. be quiet. afterward I bit in the sun. but how delicious she must taste The great peoof the earth are. fortune. [Exit. . no dogs around here. A nightingale She sings gloriously. stand by me. Gottlieb.

) natured not to let herself be interrupted even by this martial music. the earth and what He.] hear the nightin- gale? am not How my deaf. and all the elements. I say. do you lovers enter. when every tone but reechoes the She. Truly. my good friend. Be the sun my witness. confession of my love. He. good friend? Hinze. (Stamp- my The nightingale is gooding in the pit. she must be perching there. heart overflows with joyousness when I see all harmonious nature thus gathered about me. I my sweet life. my dear Do not call the most natural emotions of my ! heart raving. The hunt — I beg most humbly. I (He kneels down. Kindly pardon me would you not take the trouble to go somewhere else? You are disturbing a hunt here with your lovely affection. when all heaven bows down to diffuse its ether over me. He.218 THE GERMAN CLASSICS with the beauty in nature. me than earth. She. It's a shame I can't hear anything sing without getting a desire to eat it. she must taste delicious I am forgetting all about my hunting with these sweet dreams. here in the presence of glad heaven Hinze (approaching them courteously). [Two He. dearer to sun. who 's there ? . with the incomprehensibly sweet harmony. You are raving. See. Nature! always destroy created off my me thus? Nature! Why do you finest emotions by having I feel almost like taking boots and softly climbing up that tree yonder. — — else? Thou. Why. there's no game to be caught. . What is it.) swear to you. thyself.

ing in the sun ? You are in my arms.] Wiesenee (clapping). I wretched. oaths of love? outside humanity. I'm sure. to tell all nature how happy we are. Yes. either. my. [Exit the lovers. and tell me : Am She. and if I am not. good friend. is down on his knees. look at me well. She. you belong If Hinze. glad. and they shall never release you He. who are you. 219 Barbarian. Neighbor. despicable creature that I am? am no longer on the earth.) Oh.PUSS IN BOOTS He. Oh. you would only consider. that my lover. Loud applause and bravos in the pit. we must climb the highest mountain. I not perhaps standdearest. come. to dare to interrupt the You are not of woman born. Then wait He. the Leutner. Really beautiful diction in that scene ! But I wonder whether whole 1 it is essential to the . sir just a second. Am I mad? Oh. Muller. I Fischer. quickly and full of delight. lost in the intoxication of the moment. Dost thou believe me now? Oh. this open field is too narrow for my emotions. Ah! — that am always that way. inexpressibly ! He. She. why do I not become so immediately with excess of joy. The lover thoroughly exhausted Oh. You do not know how to restrain yourself when you are Wiesener. was certainly something for that makes one feel good again! heart. you see. didn't I believe you even before you spoke a word? (She bends down to him affectionDearest! I love you! ately. I gave myself such a blow on the hand that it swelled right up. himself.

(A rabbit creeps into the bag. that's the way with all. on the point of withdrawing. a beautifully human state of mind One can still be benefited by things like this. off with the rabbit.220 THE GEEMAN CLASSICS I never that's enough. he rushes over and draws the strings over him. . then he bows respectfully and goes passage. yes. what a noble man ! never been born (He is ! Muller. relatives against rela- brother against brother.) tives. tie up the knapsack quickly only to be able Fie! for shame. violent applause and shouting of " he has to " repeat the last beautiful Encore. worry about the whole if I cry. the nightingale to feel quite sad too began the last tirade the lovers why the play smash — — — — has some really beautiful passages after all! . Such a pair of lovers is SCHLOSS. but when I see such nonsense I should like to What ! Leutner. that. and whoever cannot do that oh. — HlNZE. to restrain my passion. kind of game that is a cousin good friend of mine.) Look here. world after good for something in the they have fallen plump into the poetical again down there and the stamping has ceased. it were better for him if he had Hinze! Is it to sacrifice himself — Fischer. I cry was a divine passage. I it with a single blow. to get — I must just not to devour the game myself. Schloss. There's no game to be caught. ! A the world nowadays. not the duty of the nobleman and his desires to the hapThat's the piness of his brother creatures? reason why we live. (He takes the rabbit out of the bag and puts it into the knapHold! Hold! truly I must take care sack. one must push others out of the way.) Oh. so to speak. if one wants through the world oneself.

in keeping king — on whose shoulders the well-being of a whole country and that of innumerable subjects — always in good humor. Nathaniel. is to be considered a vice for the very reason that it encourages Whose duty is it. Cook (falls on his knees). according to the observations of all phi- losophers. Large company. to preserve the good spirits of the monarch. do you think you would be allowed . whose power does it so lie.PUSS IN BOOTS Hall in the palace 221 Prince The King. Let not disgusted with this at last my king condemn me unheard. Rascal. too effort. makes man good. faithful servant? One cannot expend a my friends. but ! . so much as in the hands of a cook? Are not rabbits very innocent animals? My favorite dish — by means of these animals I could succeed in never becoming tired of making my country happy and these rabbits he lets me do without! Sucking pigs and sucking pigs daily. Over here. am there are absolutely none to be had. Heaven is my witness. The Princess. May it please your majesty to express your commands for your highness 's most King. on the other hand. he very becomes a tyrant. in all the vices. The Cook {in gala costume) King (sitting on throne). I now ask. lies much he falls into a bad humor. that I took all pains to secure those pretty white animals I even wanted to purchase them at a rather high price. a monster. If it were possible to get possession of even one of these rabbits. for good humor encourages cheerfulness. and cheerfulif For easily ness. now is the time to speak and answer. I want to examine the matter myself. cook. whereas melan- choly. — I Cook.

Why. that my love your king. silly girl. flexible back. [Groom of the Chamber comes in. Go. — by your refusalungrateful. I have been informed. but then again he has such bright. but I still give her credit for so much common sense as probably to have several reasons. daughter does not love you she is a thoughtless.] Your majesty. for not being able to answer this question. and to you my daughter.) Fischer. betake yourself to King. Judging by his long white beard. then she '11 . grief and worry. my king.222 THE GERMAN CLASSICS doubt for one moment longer the love your subjects bear you? Stop with those roguish words. You will be have told her a thousand times . that one cannot . the king does not remain true to his char- acter for a moment.) you Now I turn to you. She causes me care and sadness. . to the kitchen and show by your action that (Exit cook. my prince. worthy prince. ' ' feel. such a smooth. one should say he is an old man.drawing me you are into — only too early a grave! (He supalas. I Who is it? Groom. ' ' take your chance while it is offered but she will not hear well. Groom. and his face completely covered with hair should almost confirm one in this opinion. youthful eyes. My father King (weeping and girl sobbing). beg pardon. and flooded with tears ' ' when old eyes are I think of how she ' ' my will get along after left an old maid. King (sobbing). a strange man is outside and begs to be admitted before your majesty. I my death. disobedient ports himself on the throne. covers his face with his cloak and weeps bitterly. you have to be made to Princess. .

for he is wearing a pair of fine boots and as far as I can infer from his exterior he seems to be a hunter. King. Hinze. really.] With your majesty's most gracious permission the Count of Carabas makes bold to present you with a rabbit. fate has become reconciled with me ple rabbit ? again (takes it out of his knapsack). indeed joy! ! I had almost forgotten that in my room Farewell.] People! Let my historian come! [The historian appears. friend. he must be an excellent man.] Here. [Groom goes and returns directly with Hinze. King. Here. I must Indeed. Fat! nice and fat! the rabbit. My king. Ah. prince. yes. King (delighted). ? A rabbit? ! Do you hear it. prince. am curious to see him. become better acquainted with him. Why. Adieu! I wish you had a highroad all the . Who is Which of you knows him? Why the man? does he keep himself concealed ? If such heads as that are allowed to remain idle. for other suitors it cannot be otherwise.) (He feels From the Count of — just hold the Hinze. King.PUSS IN BOOTS 223 understand him. you must make way home.] de- parture. Exit. (shouting). King King. Bring him in I . give it to the cook directly. Nathan. [Prince kisses his hand. Carabas. here's some material for our . great monarch ! A Here sceptre a moment. He appears to be a wealthy man. peo- Hinze King. I beg most humbly make my Exit. Sends me a rabbit! Groom. [Groom takes to it. come. what will become of our throne! I would cry for joy.

that on such and such a day (whatever date we happen to have today) the Count of Carabas sent me a present of a most delicious rabbit. Now enter immediately. he will eat at the here with the court fool. my daughter. Let us . otherwise the soup will get cold Has the hunter been taken care off sit little ! Yes. My head is all dizzy with this queer stuff. Enter the King. I must think of it's always sure to be done wrong. who was so tender to his daughter at first and touched us all so ? Fischer. Do not forget. we cannot all Hinze).] King. Hunter. Hinze. Hinze (sits down). Large table set. what has happened to the father now. Sound Royal dining-room of drums and trumpets.) Leutner. waiting at the table. it will be another. Servants. Hinze follows. Pretty soon I shall not be able to stand it any longer why. otherwise the soup will get cold. everything. ! You have your book with you. Will you accompany us to the diningroom? (They go. Servant. your majesty. Sir Hunter. (to table Jackpudding sit down. The only thing that vexes me is that not a person in the play wonders at the cat. otherwise — . [Historian seats himself and writes. (Blast of a trumpet is heard. King. if it isn't one prince. King. of course Historian. we thank you for your trouble.224 THE GERMAN CLASSICS history of the world. With whom have I the honor of dining? Jackpud. do not weep. the king and all act as though it had to be so. Leander. A man is what he is. Anno currentis. several distinguished guests and Jackpudding. my king.) Ah. the Princess. Let us down. dinner is ready come. Schloss. Yes.

Vol. I am a poor. Hinze. Hinze.) Jackpud. I. wherever I was seen. Are you possessed of the devil? and goes to the king weeping. only Germany. Jackpud. There are strange trades in the world. bizarre like myself. in the pit: A Why? hand Hinze. I tell you. IV— 15 . such as: Absurd. Jackpud. with me. From what country do you come? Unfortunately. white cabbage does not agree Give It will taste all the better to me.) the hunter is a perfidious man . ! Jackpudding! Jackpudding!] A I do not eat that vegetable. a long time ago. and so I was compelled persecuted — to go into ! exile. My countrymen became so wise about a certain time that they finally forbade all jokes on pain of punish- ment. Sir Hunter.PUSS IN BOOTS 225 Hinze. Jackpud. growls. Here Take here the hand of an honest German fellow I am not ashamed of being German. Jackpud. clutches Jack. a man who was once. if they cease to laugh I must starve. inwhoever laughed at me was decent. Poor man . by the laughter of human beings. Hinze.) Ow! Ow! (He resists. [Murmuring Hinze. witty. tailors by vanity. (He presses the cat's hand very tightly. me your I must become better acquainted with you. Sir Hunter cooks live by eating. as many of my countrymen are. ! Don't be bashful. Jackpud. exiled fugitive. pudding. help yourself. I was called by unbearable nicknames. but who has now become stupid and reentered service in a foreign land where he is again considered witty for a while. Oh! Hunter! rises (He Your majesty. do the same thing.

But you are If to express it or (threatening with his sceptre) consider a million as one. anyhow? Why there no intelligent conversation carried on at the table? I do not enjoy a bite unless has some nourishment too. then about ten hundred thousand trillions of such units which of themselves amount to a million. Leander.226 THE GERMAN CLASSICS just look at the remembrance of . my mind King. Two million four hundred thousand and seventyone-miles. One must guard against you. a It's a thousand million. King. counting fixed stars. we . May it please your majesty How far is the sun from the earth? King. did you perhaps fall on your head today? Leander (eating). King. King (eating ) Strange Now sit down again wear gloves in the future when you give him your hand. ! Jackpud. King. Court scholar. more Human But tell intelligence grows with the numbers. King. and all that? That cannot be expressed at all. Leander. milky ways. take your pretended honesty Why. And A A the circle in which the planets revolve? hundred thousand million miles. Leander. about how large is the whole world in general. it. Why did you take such a hold on me ? The deuce . trillions great numbers in the — — gives you something to think about. hoods of mist. me. his five fingers he has left on me. hundred thousand million! There's nothing world I like better to hear than such that millions. Leander. isn't or less? Leander. Jackpud. Hinze. you scratch like a cat ! ! [Hinze laughs is maliciously. good deal.'] But what's the trouble today.

The fool. There is no highest. You can introduce nothing new. there's some truth in that. this human You must get disgusted with being a fool here. majesty is still amused by his insipid ideas. anyhow? An infinite number. Scholar.PUSS IN BOOTS King. Jackpud. Jackpud. sublimer. Sir Brazenbold of a scholar! What do you dare to say? The fool pleases me. for he only brings your taste into bad repute. think be so great? But how this bit of world could Your majesty. I can never count King. King. Hinze. Just tell me quickly the highest number. children. beyond five here. you just have to think of all the numbers possible. ! 227 Would you believe Just think. can never understand such a on the whole I am surprised that your thing. Even in Germany they tired of him. mind. that occupies the mind! this bowl of rice here seems to that. King (th rows the sceptre at his head). Leander. one cannot think. knows no bounds in this respect. my king. me. for of course the highest number always finally becomes the smallest again. his king. Leandee. But in truth it is a remarkable thing. Jackpud. King. how dare you say that the man is ridiculous? . and if I like him. He should be thrown out at once. human intelligence King. and here in Utopia you have taken him up where thousands of the most wonderful and clever amusements are at our service. fool? me How's Such sublimities of numbers give no food for thought. Leander. because you can always add something to the highest. there are too many working at the trade. how many numbers are there. Why. But say.

long. Princess. King. the only difference is that he is dining at the little table with the strange hunter. I will keep it for myself.] other it? the rabbit and gentlemen do not care for All (bow). with your permission. lies the great difference? Furthermore. both are You only to while away : the time for me and make my meal taste good where. King.228 THE GERMAN CLASSICS are the court scholar and he the court fool. The rabbit [The Cook serves I do not know ! — I suppose thegoes. no morning will ever brighten it. Jackpudding runs back and forth Hinze remains seated and eats busily. King. Do have some one the fetch the peacemaker. one feels greater oneself and is grateful to heaven. The rabbit is burned! Oh. Cook Philip be HelPs cry of jubilee May when an ungrateful wretch is burned to ashes ! Where can the musician be ! . good night. who has not the same gifts. The fool displays his nonsense at the table. My father! How did this way among the people? His eyes are dry All (arise very sadly. then. you both have equal positions. then. steadily). King though he were getting an attack again. why. A long. Well. pain! cook right What keeps me from down to Orcus as fast stranger lose his sending the as possible f Princess. earth! Oh. it does us good to see a fool who is more stupid than we. Princess. and you carry on an intelligent conversation at the table. (He eats. then.) It seems to me the king is making faces as King. even on that account I like to have a blockhead around. Princess. King. (rising in rage).

A still favorable to me. Quiet Quiet The fool wishes to speak Author. the king gets up. arranges his cloak and sits down majestically with his sceptre.] What is the matter with me ? (Weeping. the king.) in his Courtier. That's true they're all We too — absent-mindedly. too. More than we? . they hiss. stage. do not disgrace me thus . The author appears on the stage. For the sake of heaven. over- come. Gentlemen words ! ! — most honorable public — just a few ! ! In the pit. Just look. get their parts. however. is again calmed take an example from this great soul which certainly has more reason to be vexed than you. For . the act will be over directly. why. [The peacemaker enters with a set of musical bells and begins to play them at once. and it will be over soon.) Alas! I have already had my attack again. But two I wonder why you are stamping? Neighbor. Wiesener (to his neighbor). 229 To be or not to be King. it. a rogue gives more than he has. I am so confused and fright- main. stamping and ivhistling the pit. too. Fischer. full of grief. do put up with my poor play. like the play. they cough.PUSS IN BOOTS King. It is all in vain. a terrible the actors forpause on the Hinze has climbed up a pillar. Have the rabbit taken out of my sight. His majesty suffers much. those in the gallery laugh.) few voices are pity. head on the [Violent table. (He lays and sobs.] Author. the noise all continues to increase. doing do we not? because (Claps with might and Author.

Well. Eagles and other birds.230 THE GERMAN CLASSICS ened that I can think of nothing else to say to you. king if you can. Author to hear nothing. Could only all good men Soft bells like these discover Each enemy would then With ease be turned to lover. several hats fall from the gallery. two elephants. rushes off.. know nothing. Splendid Splendid Neighbor. now calm this raging flood too.] life And Interlude Wiesener.] down The Peacemaker {sings during the ballet and the audi- ence's general expression of pleasure). ! retinue are taken into the centre. I'd certainly call that a heroic ballet.) We want {The peacemaker plays on his bells. The {raging. two lions. he motions. without bad friends would be All sweet and lovely harmony. And so beautifully woven into the main plot ! ! ! . all shout and applaud. Ballet and singing. [The curtain falls. general applause. Hinze and Jackpudding not excluded. All. That sounds so beautiful! The birds. That sounds so lovely! Chorus together. people standing up in pit to see better. the stamping keeps time with the melody. is calmed. Wiesener. drags the peacemaker forward). Never have I seen or heard the like [Hereupon an artistic quadrille is danced by all present. the ballet is heard awhile. monkeys and bears appear and dance fondly around him. the king and his court .] The four-footed animals. {Beside himself. An eagle sits on the head of Hinze who is very much afraid. Laughter.

Muller. The ballet is the only redeeming feature of the Bottich. . play. for example. he always lifted it by the ears that was not prescribed for him. strated to you. and in them I admire the genius of the actor. ! 231 Divine ! Schloss. Then he has to appear fully as a hunter that is what I conclude. at first he is a cat for that reason he must lay aside his natural clothing in order to assume the appropriate disguise of a cat. Bottich. . You go very deeply into the matter. That is a very fine explanation. when you love art as I do ! task! it is a pleasant Just now a very acute thought also occurred to me concerning the cat's boots. an unskilful actor would . for every one calls him that. as often as he took the rabbit out of the sack. And his terror head! did How ! not the eagle was sitting on his he did not even move for fear.PUSS IN BOOTS Leutner. You are taking great pains Oh. Bottich. and for that reason the matter must be demon- Fischer. I flatter myself I am a bit of a connoisseur that is of course not the case with all of you. I still keep on admiring the acting of the cat. . That's what I call a master! . He himself ought to be lifted by the ears for it. it is beyond destir or budge when — scription Muller. Bottich. Beautiful music Fischer. Fischer (aside). nor does a soul marvel at him. I wonder whether you noticed how the king grasped it at once by the body? But these animals are held by the ears because that is where they can best bear it. In such details one recognizes the great and experienced actor. You see.

Leutner. what's this again? How did these people ever get into Gottlieb's room? Schloss. I entreat you. too . But. then at a motion from me let all the machines play. Then do you really think that will do I beg. however. Not in the before him). Then prove it to me by yielding to my request. I won't rack my brains about anything more. By means of the boots. Machin. dear friend. in often FlSCHEE.) . Playwr. do not refuse my my only hope depends on it.232 THE GERMAN CLASSICS have dressed himself exactly so too. you certainly do ask too much. Playwr. the ancients prove to us very ex. I believe on the spur of the moment. you also re- Machin. Why. he merely skilfully suggests the hunter's costume and that such suggestions are extremely dramatic. ACT Room III in a peasant's house The Playwright. this Machin. entirely Playwr. as it is. if the disapproval of the audience breaks out so loudly again. Hush! The third act is beginning. the second act has already closed quite differently from the way it reads (falls my down in my manuscript. Playwright misfortune. Machin. but what would have happened to our illusion? We might perhaps have forgotten that he was still originally a cat and how uncomfortable a new costume would be for the actor over the fur he already had. joice in least. The Machinist. you are against me. any good ? request . What's now? Why. cellently. who raised the curtain? It never rains but I am lost! it pours! (He rushes in embarrassment behind the scenes. to have all this done in such a hurry.

Muller. A pause. Jackpud. bows comically to the audience. but left this important announcement to That is me. Pardon me if I make bold to say a few words which do not exactly belong to the play. — — Muller. I cannot bear to have any one laugh at me. This evening ought certainly to be described in the theatre almanac. what is Jackpudding doing ant's I in the peas- room now? Jackpud. There never evening. Jackpud. Fischer. So do not hesitate. But now. suppose he wants to deliver a ridiculous monologue. (He steps forward and Fischer. hence he would not appear. pretty funny! Naturally. you see.) Why.PUSS IN BOOTS Machin. lias 233 been such a confusion on any [Exit. if all Leutner. A Jackpudding dares to Why not? Jackpud. I say. Well. I am talking to you merely as an actor to the spectators. No. I will try my luck. it can't be changed dearest friend But you Playwr. But we do not wish to hear anything. now.] Wiesenek. For . we're tired of you even in the play. what scarcely befits the king is all the more fitting for me. hurt at people laugh at me. King (behind the scenes). it would be my warmest wish to have you laugh at me. Of course why that motivates the transforma- — tion to follow. Jackpud. moreover. does that belong to the play? Neighbor. Schloss. you should keep perfectly quiet. Jackpud. My dear German countrymen I believe the setting of the play is in Asia. Oh. on no condition. . Schloss. I am not why. now so very talk to us ? Schloss. I will not appear.

It get in pri- Jackpud. God knows. .234 Schloss. I am crazy. your playwright is just the fellow. ! — Yes. it at all. if I hadn't stepped forI should not have appeared again at all. which you just saw. I am glad after all. Jackpud. Between you and will the act really begin. that there is still some one else who has the same taste as I All of us. Look. pray. all. Yes. all the preceding has nothing to do with But you are to be compensated. . myself and he has assured me of it. is not part of the play at it Fischer. and I ward even now. THE GERMAN CLASSICS People. Now if you were deceived. am Playwright (on the other side of the stage with a bow). . he is even jealous of the small part I playing now. it is by far. Not part of the play? there? Then how does soon. Impudent fellow Jackpud. Playwright (rushing forward). isn't it so? Well. it's all over with me now. believe. He's good for nothing. Jackpud. me. do you understand me. all of us Your obedient servant. only after I have gone away. writer only to give a bad example. The curtain was raised too was a vate discussion which would not have taken place on the stage at all if it were not so horribly crowded behind the scenes. what a miserable part he has given me Where. it is of course so much the worse then just be kind enough to eradicate this delusion again for from now on. he too great an honor is a wretched am I witty and funny? I appear in so few scenes. by a lucky chance. Fischer. much is coming soon which is very essential I have spoken to the playwright to the plot. Jackpud. Do be pleased to hear that the former scene. ! The Pit.

All in the pit. I wished. not to interrupt the course of the play any longer. Hinze. by means of the present play. make believe you do not notice at all how bad it is. Let us finish the wretched play today. I want to make you happy. Playwr. otherwise it will be too late it is already half past seven and the comedy ends at eight. some applause. Now I withdraw. How? What? in which I Jackpud. Gottlieb. . returns again the disanother thing quickly. very soon. it is true you are doing much for me. (Exit. only to prepare you for even more extravagant products of the imagination. Your taste? Now you see his jealousy and they have all just de- — clared that my taste is the same as theirs.] (Enter Gottlieb and Hinze) Gottlieb. Don't believe a word he says! Playwr.] Adieu. would have no Playwr. until we meet again. Hinze.] The Pit (laughs). Happiness must come soon. what the devil does that mean? . Jackpudding (returns again quickly). Of course for plays part to act at all. as soon as I get home I '11 sit down and write one for you that you will certainly like. Say.) Apropos — — cussion which has just taken place among us is not part of the play either. Jackpud. [Exit. [Exit. but I still cannot understand what good it is going to do me. [Exit. Jackpud.PUSS IN BOOTS Worthy friends! to give this 235 man I never should have dared a more important part since I know your taste Jackpudding (on the other side). For the development of this matter must advance step by step. Dear Hinze. Upon my word.

See. . Ah. I was lost in thought — See! I meant to say. bethink yourself. Did you hear that? He is going to run through fire. Schloss. with the fire and the water! Neighbor. Wiesener. Hinze. that's just what the author wants to make us understand. I wish somebody would tell me why I can no while. always goes wrong. But cats do not go into the water. otherwise the whole play will break in a thousand pieces. then content yourself. Gottlieb. beautifully the sun has risen.236 Gottlieb. come about mysteriously — happen Bottich. Well. Fischer. Gottlieb. even before the sun sets. I don't know. Do of course. [Exit. you see. Gottlieb. My intelligence is at a standstill too. here we get the scene from the Magic Flute too. So my fortune is yet to be determined today? Hinze. fine. I swear to you. Perhaps you'd like to become a prince. Do longer understand anything. Why so much the greater is the cat's love for master. The accursed prompter speaks so indistinctly. so many unexpected things in the world. I love you so much that I would run through fire for you and you doubt my sincerity? — Wiesener. Hinze. and how if it then you want to extemporize once in a Hinze (quietly). THE GERMAN CLASSICS Oh. Now what would you anyhow ? like to become in the world. Yes. [Exit.] notice the infinite refinement with which the cat always holds his cane. myself.] Gottlieb. dear Gottlieb. It would have still. Why not? If only I am once happy myself. Hinze. better than anything. his Hinze. And do you also feel the strength within you to make a nation happy ? Gottlieb. you shall mount the to throne. Oh. or a king? That.

I am disgusted with you. do not hear a single one singing.) Hinze (purrs). He with his talk about refinement! He always vexes me when he considers a connoisseur. She. . Hinze. It me that we be parted again. Botticher finds himself compelled to leave the theatre.PUSS IN BOOTS Fischer. She. I He. animals are getting more and more practice I have to hunting. A fine kind of love Wretched hypocrite. you You even add to the confusion in our heads. (Boxes Hinze on the Boor! (Also boxes Hinze on the ear. Muller. in being caught. if The hunt has never yet been so disturbed ! — you would be pleased to notice that this open field is clearly too confined for your sorrows. She. He. 237 You've been a bore to us for the longest while. She. She. He. Schloss. She. He. and the dear little ridges. [Enter the two lovers. Many Voices.] Go. Insolent wretch! and climb up some mountain. are even more tiresome than the play. Both. you bore me. himself An customed open field Hinze (with knapsack and bag).) seems best to ear. Schloss. become quite acEvery day I catch partrabbits and the like. He.) Fischer. Now (He spreads out his bag. how you have deceived me! What has become of vour infinite tenderness? ! And your faithfulness? Your rapture? Your infatuation? The devil has taken it That comes of marrying. You talk constantly and do not know what you want. Out! Out! He's a nuisance! (A crowd.) the season of the nightingales is over.

King. Now. Now I myself have no longer any desire to eat the partIt's probably thus. so often has the Count presented me with pretty and delicious gifts. human make beings. haste. Just off will carry them quickly. in the centre of the hall a cosily hat. two partridges.] am Hall in the Palace The King on his throne with the Princess. Princess. would your majesty not most graciously permit the learned disputation to begin? My heart yearns for this mental activity. fortune. Never yet has a person rendered such services to his country as this amiable Count of Carabas. Dearest father. through his My appreciation of his kindness is boundless and I desire nothing more earnestly than to find at some time the opportunity of hunter. I [Exit the lovers.] Nice people. so that you may have it always . decorated with gold and precious stones. habit. Yes. for this very reason have I had it set up here. am at your bidding. sometimes even twice a day. is fastened on a high pole. Court scholar both know that to the one who gains you — the victory in this disputation is allotted that costly hat. [Exit. King. by mere ridges. The entire court is present. Hinze. Leander in a lecturer's chair. discharging to some extent the great debt I owe him.238 THE GERMAN CLASSICS I He. we can implant in our nature every possible virtue. Our historian has already almost filled a thick volume. that. these so-called look. it fool — may court begin now. opposite him Jackpudding in another lecturer's chair. for I almost getting impatient.

That is just what I deny. wishes to assert in opposition to my opinion. The play. Prove that it is bad. The audience ? play. And you are a scholar what can you pretend to understand about wit? Several characters are well-sustained. 239 before your eyes and never be in want of [Leander and Jackpudding bow. Jackpud. Prove that it is good. are a fool. if not perfectly excellent. Leander. name that a recently of Puss in Boots Jackpud. What's this again? Why that's the very play I am not mistaken. Jackpud. am almost amazed at this boldness. Jackpud. I assert that it displays wit. even well I if I concede else. Why no audience appears in the . Fischer. open. is praised in several respects. The theme is of my assertion the is. Leander. Leutner MtJLLER. Leander. Jackpud. if SCHLOSS.PUSS IN BOOTS quick wit. Leander. Jackpud. drawn in An audience never has a character. Leander. how can you pretend to judge concerning wit? . published play by a good play. still to be Not one respect. Jackpud. Here we are. Leander. and he Isn't he a foolish fellow? Jackpud (to the pit). that at least the audience in Puss in Boots is well drawn. No other.] Leander. hand and glove with each other and sympathize in our views on taste. Leander. the audience is it. Then. Not a single one. Do tell me whether I am awake and have my eyes they are giving here. I assert that You it displays none.

a word! [Enter Hinze. have you brought. then takes the hat. is a wretched play. hunter? The Count of Carabas commends himself most respectfully to your majesty and sends you these two partridges. then puts his boots on again. I am not acquainted with at all. anyhow? What was your I asserted that a certain play. Now. unless he means the several Jackpud. which. Hinze.) If nothing more than that. King. Have my royal carriage still. Jackpudding disputation about. Why kinds of fools that appear. Muller. I eight horses in front prepared at once want to go driving with my daughter. climbs up the pole. Hinze. King. . they whisper. moreover. Sir Hunter. But what hat. Leander. Too much! too much! I am sinking under the burden of gratitude! Long since should I have done my duty and visited him. Jackpud. but I won't yield the victory to you. today I will delay no longer.] — — Hinze. then. Puss in Boots. Victory Victory The deuce How clever the hunter ! ! is ! I only regret that I fool.] (Hinze approaches. (He takes off his boots. jumps down. have been vanquished by a that learning must acknowledge foolishits ness as superior. he wanted the so again I see no difference. Hunter. no audience is in it at all? presented not a bit of it. King. What these gentlesee. Jackpud.240 THE GERMAN CLASSICS That's even better! So. scholar! there are saying must certainly be still Leander. Jackpud. I am getting confused. do you men down true. you wanted the hat. You. Keep Hinze. are to show us the way to the castle of the count. [Exit with retinue.) it 's ! Jackpud.

harvest were over. 241 So ? [Exit. the fool win a victory against a play in which Jackpud. Gottlieb on the throne. Schloss. important day has arrived on which I need you so Now do not desert particularly. No tragedy has. This is hard work! Well.] I'm all in the dumps. After all. [Exit.] Hinze. glasses. The king wishes to visit bad situation which I must clear up now the great. all must be determined today. I will gladly forget all Fischer. IV— 16 .PUSS IN BOOTS Hinze. [Enter Hinze. Whoever wants to hear something wonderful.] Do tell me what this is the play itself it ap- my other troubles. then clean now even reap. you boots. has ever affected me as this farce In front of the tavern The Host (reaping corn with a scythe). — — pears again as a play in the play. life consists of nothing but work now draw beer. Fate! Fate! Into what complications do you so often lead us mortals? But be that as it If I only succeed in putting my beloved may. because one does not live enough for one's time. listen to me now How I have been running . that is the enjoyment of art which you are said to have here? — Leutnek. Adieu. in their books. helped (alone). I. Sir Hunter. of course people cannot be deI only wish the serting every day either. Hinze I myself am taking the leading part. me. — — ! ! Vol. But I am a great friend of sleep. Without much ceremony. myself. the count? Now that is another . I am crazy didn't I say at once. as to try to put sleep out of fashion. then pour it out Life means work and here some learned folk are even so wicked.

I You must only want to say a few words to you. many servants behind. when one does work like mine. we are subject to the law. you must probably ! Hinze. Host. fourth I am now racing ahead of the king's coach like a courier and showing ! Host. third from there back again to the king. Host. But is no. Hinze. Hey good friend Who's that? Countryman. if you do not wish to die.] King and . Sir. him the way. Hinze. be a stranger. to attempt to disturb industrious people in their occupation. one must also fortify one's self. then be sure to answer: to the Count of Carabas. the Princess step out. [A fine carriage ivith eight horses. certainly be a regular idler. Just listen: the neighboring king will drive by here. for the people in this neighborhood know that I do not sell any beer about this time.242 THE GERMAN CLASSICS — first from the royal palace to Gottlieb. this region here belongs to the Count of Carabas. but. as I said. but I cannot help you. If your life is dear to you. Host. [Exit] Many thanks! Now this would be the finest kind of opportunity for me to get out of ever having to work again. I do not wish to disturb you. I never drink beer. I do not want any beer. it stops. But. idleness breeds vice: Ora et labora my motto. All I need do is to say to the king the country belongs to the Bug- — bear. I know that well enough. I need it for myself. if you do not wish to be hanged or burned. he will probably step out of his carriage and inquire to whom these villages belong. second with Gottlieb to the palace of the Bugbear where I left him. I am sorry.

and if it were not for those annoying mountains. innocent peasant. my 1 Oh. What King. they always got louis d 'ors or something like that if they spoke to a king or a prince. Farewell. drive ahead. He asks as though he were ready to have me hanged at once. if the chance is over even with kings? Innocent peasant! I ! wish to God I didn't owe anything that comes of the new sentimental descriptions of — . But get in. To whom do these villages here belong? Host (aside). ! . pray.) Princess. is one to make one's fortune unexpectedly.PUSS IN BOOTS Princess. Can you see far f are you doing. — To the Count of Carabas. Princess. Oh. my. into the carriage.) (They get in old Host. good. the tree is full of caterpillars (He climbs doivn again. Do help me a bit. That is because it is a scene in nature which has not yet been idealized imagination must first ennoble it. judging from the maps. my friend. But I always thought the must look altogether different if I country should cross the border. I 243 am somewhat curious to see the Count. A beautiful country. Good day. it drives on. my daughter. How the world has changed ! If you read books or listen to old people's stories. (He climbs up a tree quickly. King. yon would see even further. So am I. I wish you could take the caterpillars off me by King. we must Princess. But now How. royal father ? I like open views on beautiful landscapes. King.) Princess. King. means of imagination. Such a king would formerly never dare to open his mouth if he did not press gold pieces into your hand at once. yes. your majesty.

I must only thank God that he did not hang me. For the welfare of the public. Who's this fellow? The king will drive by here you to directly. life is how [The coach drives up and stops. all of us. For the welfare Your Kunz.] Another region Kunz {reaping corn). the law desires it thus. Well. Gottlieb. The strange hunter was our Bugbear himself after all. end. the edicts always sound.] probably dear to you. whom all this must answer be chopped into a thousand million pieces. doesn't matter. Such a king is powerful and envies people of our station. One must trust no innovation. if only no new taxes result from it.] Now it I have blisters on my soles already — well. Gottlieb must get the throne for it. of the public? for otherwise the play would never Naturally. At least it will now appear in the paper. the King and the Princess step out. [Exit. I suppose. you — to the Count of Carabas otherwise you will . but what need there is here of our Law who devours Hinze. That's just [Exit. Fischer Schloss Hinze. [Hinze comes running. that the king has spoken to me graciously. Hey.244 THE GERMAN CLASSICS country life. I don 't mind saying that. Of course they always say in this world for myself this ! — but ! if at least I were that laws are necessary to keep the people in order.] . I cannot understand. Bitter work And doing it compulsory villainage Here one must do nothing but sweat for the Bugbear and he does not even thank one. If he asks belongs. Hinze. good friend! Kunz.

Well. bread is baked of it! Who would ever think of such Kunz. 245 A have fine landscape. You embarrass me. What is your opinion? Princess. Here. after all. — the corn. baked from Pray.) If he wasn't a king. Do tell me. And he's not coming yet. great this land belong? We already seen a To whom does Kunz. Kunz King. the carriage drives away. it is warm today.PUSS IN BOOTS King. why do you cut down the straw like that? Kunz King. deal of very fine country. daughter. waiting for my friend. Mam'selle Corn? (laughing). ning [Hinze comes running. too. good friend. (laughing). Gottlieb. Now here I've been standing two hours already.] — Hinze. pray. [Exit. get a drink. King. Here he has given me a shining piece of gold and I'll fetch myself a can of good beer at once. And then jump into the water here . my father. stupid. daughter. Why. To He the Count of Carabas. There he is! But how he's runhe seems all out of breath. that must be true so near mine. tricks ! Nature is you learn new things every day. (He steps in again with the Princess. pray? that. beside a river Gottlieb. What do you use that for. What new things one sees while traveling. friend Gottlieb. take off your clothes My quickly? clothes? Hinze. something marvelous. though. for heaven's sake. Hinze. and has splendid estates. that seems to be a — good match for you. you'd almost think he was Doesn't know what corn is! Well. Queen Bread is this is the harvest. of course. good peasant.] Another part of the country.

serve the noble man. There Gottlieb. your majesty. Hinze. I'll do anything to please you. to take a little bath. Misfortune upon misfortune. And then you are provided for! Gottlieb. the Count is my King. give him some of Unstrap my trunk at once clothes. [Exit. Servant. coach door. I Hiistze. THE GERMAN CLASSICS Into the water? Hinze. the Count of Carabas drowned ! Drowned King. Gottlieb. Hinze. My daughter in a faint! The Count drowned! Hinze. I agree with you. Servants Try everything. Perhaps he can still be saved he is lying there . Gottlieb (in the king's clothing).] Your majesty . I am is no time for joking not joking at all. Cheer up. ! anything to pre- We have rescued him.246 Gottlieb.) Help! of the Help! Help! [The carriage. Undress Gottlieb. Princess (in the carriage).] Hunter? Why do you shout so? is ! Help. Carabas! King. you are only with Gottlieb. Is that what I had to wait here for? ! Hinze. Hinze. (Exit the Then he comes back with clothing -which he throws into a bush. Well. in the water. daughter. Come. if I am drowned and clothes gone. my king! The Count was bathing here in the clear water and a rogue stole his clothing. And then I will throw the clothing into the bush Into the bush? Hinze. King. I must hurry. your majesty. — rescued. The King looks out What is it. Hinze. King. my am well enough provided for.

you have lost the case. fine are asleep ! Palace of the Bugbear The Bugbear appears as a rhinoceros. — . times.] Bugbear (who is re-transformed into an ordinary bugbear). How many more ! appear? Wiesener. May Bugbear. Not at all — Why. Be still. consequently your land must be sold. Oh. quiver in your honor's formidable presence. the law demands money and your punishment. clothing! my I recognize him by my how are best friend — coachman Servant. bowing profusely. ! [The carriage drives off quickly. you a play. [An officer enters. pray. in matters I really came to beg you to take — — my part against my neighbor.] Officer. There is nothing else to be done and this is for the sake of justice. my friend. Officer. I please you. Bugbear. May it please your honor There must be justice. honored sir What's your trouble. Peasant.] None but now — the I hangman could come up so quickly on foot. this is far from my most terrible form. Bugbear. will the carriage Leutner. I tremble and Bugbear.PUSS IN BOOTS King. a poor peasant stands before him Peasant. These people would lose all respect if they were not compelled to fear in this way. I had also but the presence brought this purse with me of Lord Law is too frightful for me. Step you? Where do you get all the rabbits? I cannot compose myself for joy! Drive on. 247 Here is the Count! in. [Exit peasant. my friend? it — With your kindest permission. Neighbor Neighbor. have the pleasure of running behind and besides I'm just as wet as a cat. I cannot pay just now. Officer.

Why. a splendid thing afraid of such a mouse! his natural form). Yes. Hinze. where has the Bugbear gone? Bugbear Just put the money down (in a delicate voice). Permit me to make note of this marvel but now would you — please resume your natural charming form? Otherwise I shall die of fear. You are a mighty prince your love of justice is known all over the world. you an example of it at once. that Your Excellency can transform yourself into an elephant and a tiger. there on the table.] Bugbear (assumes HlNZE. .248 THE GERMAN CLASSICS into a Bugbear {suddenly changes corner). (He changes into a lion. you must pluck up courage — (aloud) Your Excellency! What do you I A pretty good purse Bugbear. also . Very well. Yes. — of course one must sympathize with human weakness. I don't doubt it. then. Hinze. money down. people always want something to talk about and so the reigning monarchs must be the first to be discussed. a scholar traveling through this region to take the liberty of making your excellency 's acquaintance.) Hinze (draws out a portfolio. I will give Bugbear. make my acquaintance. I will sit here to avoid frightening you. Bugbear. trembling). this jushow can one be — [Exit. Here. But still. there is one thing I cannot believe. mouse and sits in a Officer. Do sit down Hinze. They tell many wonderful things about Your ! Highness Bugbear. (He lays the tice is Officer. Hinze. [Enter Hinze. wish? am and wished Bugbear.) Oh.] With your permission — (aside) Hinze.

] Hinze (coming back). and the peacemaker must be somewhere behind the scenes — I look for him — I — he must find him save me! (Exit. that is even — — Bugbeae.] What am I to do? The play will be over directly everything would perhaps have run now just in this moral scene I had smoothly so much applause. he explained to me at the end of the second act all the — — fables of — but am I not a fool I became quite confused — why. [He changes into a mouse. turns again quickly. Sir Peacemaker! An empty echo mocks me — he Orpheus ? is will shall re- is . If this were expected only not so far away from the king's palace. The playwright is heard quarreling behind the scenes and then enters. far more incomprehensible to me for. do tell me. what becomes of your large body then? I will do that too. Why. Those are tricks.) He not there. Hinze after him. Hinze creeps into a corner and finally even leaves the stage. the Bugbear flees into room. I would fetch the peacemaker. Hinze leaps another after him. Wiesener and several others applaud. . this the theatre here. you surely shouldn't stamp! Playwr. Don 't you think so f Marvelous! But another thing they also say you can transform yourself into very small animals with your permission. Gottlieb will surely secure the government. (in 249 friend! his own form). is Freedom and Equality! The Law devoured! Now indeed the Tiers — Etat! Schloss.PUSS IN BOOTS Bugbear Hinze. [The stamping continues. a revolutionary play after all? Then for heaven's sake.

beneath Hell with Terkaleon. many lights.] the palace of the Count of Carabas. beautiful palace ! how this has changed! . For love guides back to duty The man who vice has sown. to a better land. above appears the open temple of the sun. you may take the responsisings. Why. cobalds and witches on the stage. the sky is clear and Jupiter sits within it. Gottlieb. the Princess. pray? No. [Enter the King.) (He plays on the bells and These sacred halls of beauty Revenge have never known. everypit begins to is scene Wiesener. I have already undressed. [The applaud. King. Now thing is astir.250 THE GERMAN CLASSICS has deserted me. Peacemak. meanwhile the changed. etc. (He pushes him forward by force. Playwr. Playwr. But why not. Glad and content.] the cat has only to go through fire and water and then the play is finished. Ha! there I see him he must come forward. That doesn't matter. I will not appear. Hinze. — [The pauses are always filled by stamping in the pit and the playwright delivers this monologue in recitative. bility. The audience applauds excessively. Ms playwright. Then he is led by friendly hand. This is Hinze and servants. in his ordinary dress. A the dickens. so that the is rather melodramatic] effect Peacemaker (behind the scenes). with the set Well.) Peacemaker (appearing of bells). the fire and water taken from the Magic Flute begin to play. Why.

How happy I. Gottlieb. Hinze.) . You have Princess. If cats be gods. In praise of cats The grateful anthem soars noblest of those creatures on all fours my — Who daily bring contentment to our doors. .Gottlieb {walks through fire and water to the sound of flute and drum. I would desire to reward my servant. you are altogether worthy of the government. Governing. kitchen. (He hangs an order about the cat's neck. the hand of my daughter. In Egypt cats were gods. is Our homes had household gods them. Hinze. Hinze. Gottlieb. And now To implore his Majesty's permission close with laudatory lines poetic This play so very wondrous and prophetic. And serve the man who this world's goods rich in.PUSS IN BOOTS Hinze. The curtain falls. my king.) What is his actual name ? Gottlieb. attic. By all means. nobility. By — Leander (quickly stepping forward). King. But. birth he is of but a lowly family but his merits exalt him. 251 As long as matters have gone thus far (taking Gottlieb by the hand) you must first walk through the fire here and then through the water there. stood the test now. is a curious matter. my prince. I am! King. then with the of yore to grace Lares place them! {Drumming. I herewith raise him to the likewise. They still protect our cellar. now. After the King I rode with due submission. and very nice is The Tom-cat who was cousin to Great Isis. Accept.] .

and thus a closer friendship developed between the two men with each succeeding year. scarcely of medium height. a man to whom Eckbert had become greatly attached. Frugality dwelt there. because he found in him very much his own way of thinking. He had a small income. and short. but he often spent more than half a year at a time in the vicinity of Eckbert 's castle. and Economy herself seemed to regulate everything. and was never implicated in the feuds of his neighbors people saw him but rarely outside the encircling wall of his little castle. and was therefore dependent upon no one. where he busied himself gathering herbs and stones and arranging them in order. Eckbert was then cheerful and gay only when he was alone one noticed in him a certain reserve. He lived very quietly unto himself. [252] . His wife loved solitude quite as much as he. almost no change on their account was made in the ordinary routine of his life. His home was really in Franconia. He was about forty years old. sunken face. Eckbert often accompanied him on his lonely rambles. Nobody came so often to the castle as did Philip Walther. and even when he was. a quiet distant . (1796) By Ludwig Tieck thomas [N a region of the Hartz Mountains there lived a knight whom people generally called simplyFair Eckbert. and both seemed to love each other from the heart. Very seldom was Eckbert visited by guests.FAIR ECKBERT translated by paul b. — melancholy. very fair hair fell thick and straight over his pale. only they were wont to complain because Heaven seemed unwilling to bless their marriage with children.

Walther accepted the proposal. and the servants had gone out. in order to make him so much the more a At these moments delicate souls disclose themfriend. After the dishes had been cleared off. but my hus' ' band says your thoughts are so noble that it is not right to conceal anything from you. which is indeed strange enough. ' ' all sat down again was now exactly midnight. and the trees outside were shivering in the damp cold. and Eckbert proposed that he remain there and spend half the night in familiar talk. which hitherto he has often taken great pains to conceal. and they It around the hearth. and then sleep until morning in one of the rooms of the castle. and the conversation of the two friends became more cheery and confidential. ' ' ' ' " Gladly. Eckbert took Walther 's hand and said: Friend. Bertha." replied Walther. " I was born in a village. One foggy evening in early autumn Eckbert was sitting with his friend and his wife. The flames threw a bright glow out into the room and played on the ceiling above. my parents plane — often they did not know where they were going to get their bread. no matter how strange it may sound. The night looked in darkly through the windows. began Bertha. and reveal its innermost self to the friend. and the ' ' moon shone intermittently through the passing clouds. The household economy of was on a humble But what grieved me far more than that . and it doubtless sometimes happens that the one shrinks back in fright from its acquaintance with the other. Only you must not regard my story as a fairy-tale. my father was a poor shepherd. you ought once to let my wife tell you the story of her youth. around the hearthfire. whereupon wine and supper were brought in. Walther was lamenting that he had so far to go to get back home. the fire was replenished with wood. You must forgive me. The soul then feels an irresistible impulse to impart itself completely. selves to each other.FAIR ECKBERT 253 There are hours in which it worries a man to keep from a friend a secret.



was the fact that my father and mother often quarreled over their poverty, and cast bitter reproaches at each other. Furthermore I was constantly hearing about myself, that I was a simple, stupid child, who could not perform even the most trifling task. And I was indeed extremely awkward and clumsy I let everything drop from my hands, I learned neither to sew nor to spin, I could do nothing to help about the house. The misery of my parents, however, I understood extremely well. I often used to sit in the corner and fill my head with notions how I would help them if I should suddenly become rich, how I would shower them with gold and silver and take delight in their astonishment.


I would see spirits


floating up,

who would


veal subterranean treasures to

afterward turned into gems. fantasies would occupy my mind, and when I had to get up to help or carry something, I would show myself far more awkward than ever, for the reason that my head would be giddy with all these strange notions. My father was always very cross with me, because I was such an absolutely useless burden on the household so he often treated me with great cruelty, and I seldom heard him say a kind word to me. Thus it went along until I was about eight years old, when serious steps were taken to get me to do and to learn something. My father believed that it was sheer obstinacy and indolence on my part, so that I might spend my days in idleness. Enough he threatened me unspeakably, and when this turned out to be of no avail, he chastised me most barbarously, adding that this punishment was to be repeated every day because I was an absolutely useless creature. "All night long I cried bitterly I felt so entirely forand I pitied myself so that I wanted to die. I saken, dreaded the break of day, and did not know what to do. I longed for any possible kind of ability, and could not understand at all why I was more stupid than the other children of my acquaintance. I was on the verge of despair.
' ' ;

or give me pebbles which In short, the most wonderful



realizing cabin. I



the day dawned, I got up, and, scarcely was doing, opened the door of our little

found myself in the open field, soon afterward in a forest, into which the daylight had hardly yet shone. I ran on without looking back I did not get tired, for I thought all the time that my father would surely overtake me and treat me even more cruelly on account of my running away. " When I emerged from the forest again the sun was already fairly high, and I saw, lying ahead of me, someOne thing dark, over which a thick mist was resting. moment I was obliged to scramble over hills, the next to follow a winding path between rocks. I now guessed that

in the neighboring mountains, and I began to For, living in the plain, I had never seen any mountains, and the mere word mountains,
feel afraid of the solitude.

must be

whenever I heard them talked about, had an exceedingly terrible sound to my childish ear. I hadn't the heart to turn back it was indeed precisely my fear which drove me onwards. I often looked around me in terror when the wind rustled through the leaves above me, or when a distant sound of chopping rang out through the quiet morning. Finally, when I began to meet colliers and miners and heard

a strange pronunciation, I nearly fainted with fright. You must forgive my prolixity. As often as I tell this story I involuntarily become garrulous, and Eckbert, the only person to whom I have told it, has spoiled me by his
' '


" I passed through several villages and begged, for I now felt hungry and thirsty. I helped myself along very well with the answers I gave to questions asked me. I had wandered along in this way for about four days, when I came to a small foot-path which led me farther from the highway. The rocks around me now assumed a different, far stranger shape. They were cliffs, and were piled up on one another in such a way that they looked as if the first gust of wind would hurl them all together into a heap. I did not know whether to go on or not. I had always slept



over night either in out-of-the-way shepherds huts, or else in the open woods, for it was just then the most beautiful season of the year. Here I came across no human habitations whatever, nor could I expect to meet with any in

— I often had to pass close by dizzy precipices, and finally
even the path under

this wilderness.

The rocks became more and more






an end.


was abso;

lutely wretched I wept and screamed, and my voice echoed horribly in the rocky glens. And now night set in I sought out a mossy spot to lie down on, but I could not sleep. All

night long I heard the most peculiar noises first I thought it was wild beasts, then the wind moaning through the rocks, then again strange birds. I prayed, and not until toward morning did I fall asleep. I woke up when the daylight shone in my face. In front
; 1 '


me there was a rock. I climbed up on it, hoping to find a way out of the wilderness, and perhaps to see some houses or people. But when I reached the top, everything, as far all overas my eye could see, was like night about me cast with a gloomy mist. The day was dark and dismal, and not a tree, not a meadow, not even a thicket could my eye discern, with the exception of a few bushes which, in

solitary sadness, had shot up through the crevices in the rocks. It is impossible to describe the longing I felt merely
to see a


being, even

looking person before


been the most strangeI should inevitably have taken



same time I was ravenously hungry. I sat down and resolved to die. But after a while the desire to live came off victorious I got up quickly and walked on all day long, occasionally crying out. At last I was scarcely conscious of what I was doing I was tired and exhausted, had hardly any desire to live, and yet was afraid to die. Toward evening the region around me began to assume a somewhat more friendly aspect. My thoughts and wishes took new life, and the desire to live awakened in all my
; ' '



now thought
I redoubled

I heard the swishing of a mill in the




and how






ous I felt when at last I actually reached the end of the Woods and meadows and, far ahead, pleasdreary rocks ant mountains lay before me again. I felt as if I had stepped out of hell into paradise the solitude and my helplessness did not seem to me at all terrible now. Instead of the hoped-for mill, I came upon a water-fall, which, to be sure, considerably diminished my joy. I dished up some water from the river with my hand and drank. Suddenly I thought I heard a low cough a short distance away. Never have I experienced so pleasant a surprise as at that moment I went nearer and saw, on the edge of the
! ;

' '



an old woman, apparently resting. She was dressed almost entirely in black; a black hood covered her head and a large part of her face. In her hand she held a walkingstick.


approached her and asked for help she had me sit beside her and gave me bread and some wine. While I was eating she sang a hymn in a shrill voice, and when
' '



she had finished she said that I might follow her. " I was delighted with this proposal, strange as the
voice and the personality of the old woman seemed to me. She walked rather fast with her cane, and at every step

she distorted her face, which at first made me laugh. The we crossed a pleaswild rocks steadily receded behind us ant meadow, and then passed through a fairly long forest.

When we emerged from
I shall

this, the sun was just setting, and never forget the view and the feelings of that evening. Everything was fused in the most delicate red and gold; the tree-tops stood forth in the red glow of evening, the charming light was spread out over the fields, the forest

and the leaves of the trees were motionless, the clear sky looked like an open paradise, and the evening bells of the villages rang out with a strange mournfulness across the






its first

presentment of the

world and spirit and
' '


and my guide my were wandering among golden clouds. my eyes now climbed a hill, which was planted with birchits events.

I forgot myself



— 17


and from

summit looked clown

into a little valley,

In the midst of the trees stood a little hut. lively barking came to our ears, and presently a spry little dog was dancing around the old woman and wagging his tail. Presently he came to me, examined me from all sides, and then returned with friendly actions to
likewise full of birches.


woman. When we were descending the hill I heard some wonderful singing, which seemed to come from the hut. It sounded like a bird, and ran
the old




Of lonely wood, Where none intrude, Thou bringest good
For every mood,

" These few words were repeated over and over; if I were to attempt to describe the effect, it was somewhat like the blended notes of a bugle and a shawm. My curiosity was strained to the utmost. Without waiting for the old woman's invitation, I walked into the hut with her. Dusk had already set in. Everything was in proper order; a few goblets stood in a cupboard, some strange-looking vessels lay on a table, and a bird was hanging in a small, shiny cage by the window. And he, indeed, it was that I had heard singing. The old woman gasped and coughed, seemingly as if she would never get over it. Now she stroked the little dog, now talked to the bird, which answered her only with its usual words. Furthermore, she acted in no way as if I were present. While I was thus
' '

watching her, a series of shudders passed through my body; for her face was constantly twitching and her head shaking, as if with age, and in such a way that it was impossible for one to tell how she really looked.
she finally ceased coughing she lighted a candle, very small table, and laid the supper on it. Then she looked around at me and told me to take one of the woven
set a
' '




cane chairs. I sat down directly opposite her, and the candle stood between us. She folded her bony hands and prayed aloud, all the time twitching her face in such a way that it almost made me laugh. I was very careful, however, not to do anything to make her angry. "After supper she prayed again, and then showed me to a bed in a tiny little side-room she herself slept in the main room. I did not stay awake long, for I was half dazed. I woke up several times during the night, however, and heard the old woman coughing and talking to the dog, and occasionally I heard the bird, which seemed to be dreaming

and sang only a few isolated words of its song.

These stray

notes, united with the rustling of the birches directly in front of my window, and also with the song of the far-off

nightingale, made such a strange combination that I felt all the time, not as if I were awake, but as if I were lapsing
still stranger, dream. " In the morning the old woman woke me up and soon afterward gave me some work to do; I had, namely, to spin, and I soon learned how to do it in addition I had to take care of the dog and the bird. I was not long in getting acquainted with the housekeeping, and came to know all the

into another,


objects around. I now began to feel that everything was as it should be I no longer thought that there was anything

strange about the old woman, or romantic about the location of her home, or that the bird was in any way extraordinary. To be sure, I was all the time struck by his beauty; for his feathers displayed every possible color, varying from a most beautiful light blue to a glowing red, and when he sang he puffed himself out proudly, so that his feathers shone even more gorgeously.
' '




evening. she would call


often went out and did not return until would go with the dog to meet her and me child and daughter. Finally I came to

her heartily; for our minds, especially in childhood, quickly accustom themselves to everything. In the evening hours she taught me to read; I soon learned the art, and


was a source of endless pleasure to me in my for she had a few old, hand-written books which


contained wonderful stories.

" The memory of the life I led at that time still gives me a strange feeling even now. I was never visited by any human being, and felt at home only in that little family circle for the dog and the bird made the same impression on me which ordinarily only old and intimate friends create. Often as I used it at that time, I have never been able to recall the dog's strange name. " In this way I had lived with the old woman for four and I must have been at any rate about twelve years years, old when she finally began to grow more confidential and

It was this every day the bird and in this egg there was always a pearl or a egg gem. I had already noticed that she often did something in the cage secretly, but had never particularly concerned myself about it. She now charged me with the* task of taking out these eggs during her absence, and of carefully preserving them in the vessels. She would leave food for me and stay away quite a long time weeks and months.

revealed a secret to me.


laid one



spinning-wheel hummed, the dog barked, the

wonderful bird sang, and meanwhile everything was so quiet in the region round about that I cannot recall a single high wind or a thunder-storm during the entire time. Not a human being strayed thither, not a wild animal came near our habitation. I was happy, and sang and worked away from one day to the next. Man would perhaps be right \ happy if he could thus spend his entire life, unseen by


reading that I did I formed quite wonderful impressions of the world and of mankind. They were all drawn from myself and the company I lived in; thus, if whimsical people were spoken of I could not imagine them other than the little dog, beautiful women always looked like the bird, and all old women were as my wonderful old friend. I had also read a little about love, and in

" From the



my imagination I figured in strange tales. I formed a mental picture of the most beautiful knight in the world and adorned him with all sorts of excellences, without really knowing, after all my trouble, what he looked like. But I could feel genuine pity for myself if he did not return my love, and then I would make long, emotional speeches to him, sometimes aloud, in order to win him. You smile

past this period of youth. it rather better when I was alone, for I was then myself mistress of the house. The dog was very fond of me and did everything I wanted him to do, the bird
' '






answered all my questions with his song, my wheel was always spinning merrily, and so in the bottom of my heart I never felt any desire for a change. When the old woman returned from her wanderings she would praise my diligence, and say that her household was conducted in a much more orderly manner since I belonged to it. She was delighted with my development and my healthy look. In short, she treated me in every way as if I were a daughter. You are a good child, she once said to me in a squeaky If you continue thus, it will always go well with voice. It never pays to swerve from the right course the you. is sure to follow, though it may be a long time penalty "While she was saying this I did not give a great coming. deal of heed to it, for I was very lively in all my movements. But in the night it occurred to me again, and I could not understand what she had meant by it. I thought her words over carefully I had read about riches, and it finally dawned on me that her pearls and gems might perhaps be something valuable. This idea presently became still clearer to me but what could she have meant by the right course? I was still unable to understand fully the meaning of her words. I was now fourteen years old. It is indeed a mis' '





' '

human beings acquire reason, only to lose, in so doing, the innocence of their souls. In other words I now began to realize the fact that it depended only upon me to
fortune that



take the bird and the gems in the old woman's absence, and go out into the world of which I had read. At the same time it was perhaps possible that I might meet my

wonderfully beautiful knight, who


held a place in



first this

thought went no further than any other,

when I would sit there spinning so constantly, it always came back against my will and I became so deeply absorbed in it that I already saw myself dressed up and

surrounded by knights and princes. And whenever I would thus lose myself, I easily grew very sad when I glanced up

and found myself in my little, narrow home. When I was about my business, the old woman paid no further attention
to me.

One day my hostess went away again and told me that she would be gone longer this time than usual I should pay strict attention to everything, and not let the time drag on my hands. I took leave of her with a certain uneasiness,
' '

should never see her again. I looked after her for a long time, and did not myself know
for I
felt that I


why I was so uneasy; it seemed almost as if my intention were already standing before me, without my being distinctly conscious of it. I had never taken such diligent care of the dog and the bird before heart than ever now. they lay closer to
1 '


several days when I arose with the firm purpose of abandoning the hut with the bird and going out into the so-called world. mind was narold


woman had been away


wanted again to remain there, and yet the thought was repugnant to me. A strange conflict took it was as if two contentious spirits were place in my soul struggling within me. One moment the quiet solitude would seem so beautiful to me, and then again I would be charmed by the vision of a new world with its manifold wonders. " I did not know what to do with myself. The dog was continually dancing around me with friendly advances, the
limited; I

row and



sunlight was spread out cheerfully over the fields, and the green birch- trees shone brightly. I had a feeling as if I had something to do requiring haste. Accordingly, I caught the
little dog, tied him fast in the room, and took the cage, with the bird in it, under my arm. The dog cringed and whined

over this unusual treatment he looked at me with imploring eyes but I was afraid to take him with me. I also took one of the vessels, which was filled with gems, and concealed it about me. The others I left there. The bird twisted its head around in a singular manner when I walked out of the door with him the dog strained hard to follow me, but was


obliged to remain behind. " I avoided the road leading toward the wild rocks, and walked in the opposite direction. The dog continued to bark

and whine, and


was deeply touched by


Several times

the bird started to sing, but, as he was being carried, it was necessarily rather difficult for him. As I walked along the

barking grew fainter and fainter, and, finally, ceased altogether. I cried and was on the point of turning back, but the longing to see something new drove me on. " I had already traversed mountains and several forests when evening came, and I was obliged to pass the night in a

I was very timid when I entered the public-house showed me to a room and a bed, and I slept fairly well, they except that I dreamt of the old woman, who was threatening


My journey was rather monotonous; but the further I went the more the picture of the old woman and the little dog worried me. I thought how he would probably starve to death without my help, and in the forest I often thought I would suddenly meet the old woman. Thus, crying and sighing, I wandered along, and as often as I rested and put the cage on the ground, the bird sang its wonderful song, and reminded me vividly of the beautiful home I had deserted.


that the journey I had

As human nature is prone made as a

to forget, I

now thought


was not as dismal

as the one I
* '


was now making, and I wished that I were back same situation. I had sold a few gems, and now, after wandering many days, I arrived in a village. Even as I was entering it, a I was frightened and did strange feeling came over me not know why. But I soon discovered why it was the same village in which I was born. How astonished I very was How the tears of joy ran down my cheeks as a thousand strange memories came back to me There were a new houses had been built, others, great many changes; which had then only recently been erected, were now in a state of dilapidation. I came across places where there had been a fire. Everything was a great deal smaller and more crowded than I had expected. I took infinite delight in the
in the



thought of seeing my parents again after so many years. the I found the little house and the well-known threshold handle on the door was just as it used to be. I felt as if I had only yesterday left it ajar. My heart throbbed vehebut faces entirely mently. I quickly opened the door strange to me stared at me from around the room. I inquired after the shepherd, Martin, and was told that both he and his wife had died three years before. I hurried out

and, crying aloud, left the village. I had looked forward with such pleasure to surprising them with my riches, and as a result of a remarkable acci' '

dent the dream of


me — the




really in vain — they could no longer rejoice with

my childhood





fondest hope of my life was lost to me forever. " I rented a small house with a garden in a pleasant city, and engaged a waiting-maid. The world did not appear to be such a wonderful place as I had expected, but the old woman and my former home dropped more and more out

my memory,

so that,

upon the whole,

I lived quite

contentedly. " The bird


had not sung for a long time, so that I was not frightened one night when he suddenly began again. it was: The song he sang, however, was different

— " You should have seen her then. her innocence. In absence rued. and his presence worried me. he was constantly staring at me. He never ceased singing now. and sang more loudly and shrilly than he used to. I had no property. I opened the cage. : my ' ' ." — ! her love I attained present condition of comfortable prosperity. seized him by the neck and I felt back my mind. and I thought that she too might rob me some day. A vanished O ' ' good In dreams pursued. Mr. my story ends. stuck my hand in. When and more than ever I got the sight of the bird squeezed dead. imploringly. night She rose to go to her room." began Bertha " the has grown late. Let us go to bed. and our union thus far has never brought us a single moment of remorse. Finally. We moved to this place. and how you fed the little Strohmi. adding " Noble woman. her beauty and quickly. and I relaxed I buried my grip — but he He looked at me was already him in the garden. The more I looked at him the more uneasiness I felt. but with the help of ' ' Walther. My own past came back to me. or perhaps even murder me. "And now I was often seized with fear of my waitingmaid. solitude! I could not sleep through the night to ." " But while I have been chattering. and I loved given her her inexpressibly. what an incomprehensible charm her solitary breeding had To me she seemed like a wonder." again. my fingers together forcibly. I can readily imagine you with the strange bird. For a long time I had known a young knight whom I liked very much I gave him my hand. and with that." broke in Eckbert Her youth.FAIR ECKBERT solitude 265 Of lonely wood. I thank you. up repugnant to me. Walther kissed her hand and wished her a good-night. everything came that I had done was positively wrong.

to be sure. and now I regret this confidence! Will he not perhaps misuse it? Will he not impart it to others? Will he not perhaps for it is human nature come to feel a miserable longing for our gems and devise plans to get them and dissemble his nature? " It occurred to him that Walther had not taken leave of him as cordially as would perhaps have been natural after so confidential a talk. it finds confirmations of its suspicions in every little thing. Bertha's sickness grew worse and worse. Walther seemed little concerned about it.266 THE GERMAN CLASSICS Without answering she left the room. Then again Eckbert reproached himself for his ignoble distrust of his loyal friend. Eckbert could not understand his conduct. his mind. and even when he did come he went away again after a few trivial words. and her eyes became more and more brilliant. you which has almost deprived me of my reason and something . Bertha was sick and could not appear for breakfast. Eckbert was exceedingly troubled by this behavior. he tried not to let either Bertha or Walther notice it. "Aren't human beings fools? " he finally asked himself. and furthermore he left the knight in a rather indifferent manner. The doctor shook his head the color in her cheeks had disappeared." she began. but both of them must surely have been aware of his inward uneasiness. All night long he tossed about with these thoughts and slept but little. One morning she summoned her husband to her bedside and told the maids to withdraw. Walther also lay down to sleep. After that evening Walther visited his friend's castle but rarely. When the soul is once led to suspect. but he was unable to get the notion entirely out of. but Eckbert continued to walk up and down the room. " I myself induced my wife to tell her story. — — — — " Dear " I must disclose to husband. He went in to see his wife she lay in a severe fever and said that her story the night before must have excited her in this manner.

however trivial it may seem to be. is this man's connection with my The idea has occurred to me now and then that I lot? but it is certain. and Walther fell headlong. despite all the efforts I have made. or did he mention it designedly? And what. It sent a feeling of horror through me to have a strange person like that assist my memory. Often as I have told my story to you. Was that an accident? Did he guess the name. He took his cross-bow with a view to distracting his thoughts •~^i)y going hunting. Suddenly he saw something move in the distance it was Walther gathering moss from the trees. What do you " say. to recall the name of the little dog with which I lived so long. then. Eckbert? Eckbert looked at his suffering wife with deep tenderness. In an isolated room he walked back and forth with indescribable ' : ' I told the story to Walther I can readily we separated — had been his sole male comrade. but was meditating. That evening when he suddenly said to me when imagine how you fed the little Strohmi. you will remember that I have never been able. It was a raw and stormy day in the winter deep snow lay on the mountains and bent down the branches of the trees. It seemed to him that his heart would be light and happy if restlessness — Walther for many years only this one person might be put out of the way. only too merely imagine this accident certain. — Walther Without knowing what he was doing he took aim looked around and motioned to him with a threatening gesture. and yet this man was now the only person in the world whose existence oppressed and harassed him. — Eckbert felt relieved and calm. Then he said a few comforting words to her and left the room. But as he did so the arrow sped. and that increased his ill-humor. He had a long distance to . down .FAIR ECKBERT 267 has ruined my health. with the sweat oozing from his forehead. He came across no game. and yet a feeling of horror drove him back to his castle. He wandered about. He kept silent.

Eckbert was. and he by mistake felt the same impulse again to unfold his soul to him in order to ascertain for sure how staunch a friend Hugo was. he occasionally betook himself to the nearest large city. before her death arrived home. Hugo von Wolfsberg. For a long time Eckbert lived in greatest seclusion. and then again. he had always lived in fear of an unfortunate event that might take place.268 go. for he felt quite sure that Hugo loved him only he did not know him. They were now frequently together. He wished to have a friend to fill the vacancy in his soul. scarcely ever did either of them ride out without the other. the stranger did Eckbert all sorts of favors. melancholy Eckbert. and now both of them had been so suddenly taken from him that his life seemed at times more like a strange fairy-tale than an actual mortal existence. In order to divert his thoughts. when he thought of Walther. the very word friend made him shudder. for THE GERMAN CLASSICS When he lie had wandered far into the forest. He had lived so long in beautiful harmony with Bertha. — inseparable. nevertheless. became attached to the quiet. where he attended parties — and banquets. happy only for short moments at a time. He had always been somewhat melancholy because the strange story of his wife rather worried him. A knight. but now he was completely at variance with himself. Bertha had already died she had spoken a great deal about Walther and the old — woman. he met the knight's friendly advances more quickly than the other expected. Then again doubts and the fear of being detested restrained — . they seemed to be other at all the parties fondness for him. He was convinced that he would necessarily be unhappy with all his friends. and Walther 's friendship had made him happy for so many years. The murhe spent der of his friend stood constantly before his eyes his life reproaching himself. and seemed to cherish a genuine Eckbert was strangely surprised. nor his history. they met each in short.

But he could not resist the impulse in the course of a long walk he revealed his entire history to his friend. of his 269 There were many hours in which he felt so convinced own unworthiness as to believe that no person. could hold him worthy of esteem. No thought could he hold fast. returned to his castle. knew him at all intimately. Like a restless spirit he hurried from room to room. There was an old knight in the com- pany who had always shown himself as Eckbert 's rival. Still looking. said very little to him. that he talked a great deal with the other people present. Then again he remembered Walther's . he suddenly saw Walther's head. he became convinced that it this a confirmation of his suspicions. and a terrible rage he believed that he the old man. He thought he detected a malicious smile. Hugo now approached this man. the pictures in his mind grew more and more terrible. was nobody but Walther himself who was talking with His terror was indescribable. had been betrayed. As he continued to stare in that direction. it seemed to be his damnation that his suspicions should awaken just at the time when he grew confidential for they had no more than entered the hall when the glow of the many lights revealed an expression in his . left the city that night. and he did not sleep a wink. However. and asked him if he could possibly love a murderer. he rushed out. and. Eckbert.FAIR ECKBERT him. Hugo. and it seemed to him that he. saw in overcame him. who . so familiar to him. He. and his entire figure. and had often inquired in a peculiar way about his riches and his wife. Eckbert followed him back to the city with a lighter heart. while every now and then they glanced toward Eckbert. Hugo was touched and tried to comfort him. The idea often occurred to him that he was crazy and that all these notions were merely the product of his nation. friend's features which he did not like. own imagifeatures. and they talked together a long time secretly. after losing his way many times. all his features. and seemed to pay absolutely no attention to him. completely beside himself.

He started to give him a few coins by way of thanks. coughing. An old crook-backed woman with a cane came creeping up the hill. Thou chiefest good. but the peasant refused them. he continued his journey on foot. He resolved go on a journey in order to compose his thoughts. Where thou dost brood Is joy renewed. solitude! up with Eckbert 's consciousness and his senses he could not solve the mystery whether he was now dreaming or had formerly dreamt of a woman Bertha. Unconcerned. he had long since given up the idea of a friend and the wish for a companion. After he had trotted along several days on his horse. Finally he met an old peasant who showed him a way out. nor did he pay much attention to the country that lay before him.270 THE GERMAN CLASSICS it was all more puzzling to him than ever. — — . I could that that man was no other than Walther. he set out. What can it mean ? " he said to himself. Dreamily he ascended a hill. There he seemed to hear a birch trees rustled about dog barking cheerily close by him he heard the notes of a wonderful song: — — solitude Of lonely wood. it collapsed beneath him. Without any definite destination in view. The most marvelous was confused with the most ordinary the world around him was bewitched no thought. he suddenly lost his way in a maze of rocks. it Now was all . completely exhausted. until." easily imagine He looked back once more it was indeed no one else but Walther! Eckbert spurred on his horse as fast as it could run and to ' ' ' ' — — through meadows and forests. leading past a waterfall. no memory was under his control. from which he was unable to discover any egress.

" Why did she desert me so deceitfully? Otherwise her probationeverything would have ended beautifully time was already over." In said Eckbert softly to himself. what terrible "And Bertha was your sister. the dog barking. daughter himself. my dog? itself. my pearls." Eckbert fell to the ground. and the bird repeating its song. 1 ' of them. ' ' 271 " Look ' ' ! — wrong punishes bird. God in Heaven solitude I have spent my life. Because in your early youth you heard your father tell On his wife's account he could not bring up this .FAIR ECKBERT "Are you bringing my cried out to him. " she I and ' ' no other was your friend Walther." Eckbert was delirious as he breathed his last dazed and confused he heard the old woman talking. for she was the child of another woman. who had a shepherd bring her up the daughter of your ' ' — — father. She was the daughter of a knight." 1 ' Why have I always had a presentiment of these facts ? ' ' cried Eckbert. your Hugo. .

[272] ." The mother went in. " said he. the wood frightens us. father and I are going to the fields. "they are so heedless. Their house lay upon a little green height. and turned toward the fields to look after their laborers and see their hayharvest in the meadow. Mary? playing out upon the green there. " I wish they may not run away and lose themselves. and ones. said the mother. They locked the door. and was living in contentment with his wife and only child. and the Count not illiberal." said the boy. and soon came out again with her husband. for he yearly saved some money. ' ' Mary eagerly reached out for the red cherries." replied the mother. and do not run too far from home. * Permission Porter & Coates. or into the wood.THE ELVES* (1811) By Ludwig Tieck TRANSLATED BY FREDERIC H. for the ground was productive. Martin rented the large farm from this nobleman." Little Andrew answered: "Never fear." The mother looked for the their evening luncheon. and on the other side lay the castle of the Count. 1 ' little " It is ' ' and brought them warm. we shall sit here by the house. children. which likewise inclosed their fruit and flower-garden. and had the prospect of becoming a man of substance by his industry. where there are people near us. encircled by a pretty ring of paling. The hamlet stretched somewhat deeper down. HEDGE HERE ' ' is our is She asked the father. Philadelphia. little " with our neighbor's boy. Have a care.

" said Brigitta. as they trade they follow. you have pleas. and the sky bluer and. ' i A ' ' ' ' . and said has. ' ' — ' ' . and keep themselves so separate from the rest of us. seemingly. which indeed seems altogether waste. and none knows how they live. from the place we lived in formerly! Here it is all so green. no mortal comes to Vol. 1 ' ' ' . " you are. wishing. in another world. "do but look back to it. IV — 18 what went along. that steal and cheat in other quarters. them. all the ground is full of beautiful herbs the houses are cheerful and cleanly. you grow disconsolate and sad. the only thing is.THE ELVES As he walked with : 273 his wife to the fields." "It is true." "And whenever you cross the stream. for. you know not why. replied the young farmer gipsies. all is so dreary and withered but every traveler declares that our village is the fairest in the country. but perhaps they may be poor people. the ruined stalls. the brook flowing past with a sluggish melancholy. What sort of people can they be that live there. Brigitta. "All but that fir-ground. and . the whole village is bedecked with thickspreading fruit-trees and flowers. ' ' " God knows. he * ' gazed cheer- What a different look this quarter fully round. inhabitants are at their ease: nay. have their hoard and hiding-place here. that they do not go to church. I could almost fancy that the woods are greener here than elsewhere. to conceal their poverty. far or near. how dark and dismal that solitary spot is the dingy fir-trees. out of shame. with the smoky lying in the gay scene huts behind them. cannot possibly support them and fields they have none. with an accent of pity. for the place ' ' ." said the wife. as it were. replied Brigitta " if you but approach that spot." said her husband. I wonder only that his lordship suffers them. for the little garden. after all. the . as if they had an evil conscience? " miserable crew. so far as the eye can reach. no one can say aught ill of them. ure and delight in beholding the bountiful Earth. ' ' said Martin. ' ' Who knows.

turning to the It is very silly. and began to run. though at times curious people. . The two little ones had eaten their fruit. let us try it for some length. a man of monstrous size was seen to cross the foot-bridge of the brook. round past the fir-ground thou canst try it by the right. 1 ' As thou ' ' wilt. a quarter of a mile from this. still more rarely did men appear there. ." " " No. cried Andrew at last fair. begirt with firs. left. and Mary. ruined huts. . said Mary ' i . then we shall see who wins. . in ragged clothes. moving like shadows round a This piece of ground. you might behold a hut and various dilapidated farm-houses rarely was smoke seen to mount from it. . the stately new-built castle. formed in truth a strange contrast with the bright green landscape. ' ' ' ' ' . various shapes were observed. it came into their heads to run races." Such conversation they pursued while walking to the That gloomy spot they spoke of lay apart from the hamlet. and then we shall see which of us is the swifter. and the fire in the open air. but there.274 THE GERMAN CLASSICS they live in is as if bewitched and excommunicated. venturing somewhat nearer." cried Mary." " for we shall " Done. said she right. stands the I shall by the run large pear-tree." Andrew had already started. in the darkness. and the little nimble Mary It is not always got the start of the less active Andrew. so that even our wildest fellows will not venture into it. and disappear in the hut and. had perceived upon the bench before the hut some hideous women. . dandling in their arms some children equally dirty and ill-favored black dogs were running up and down upon the boundary and." said Andrew. on the hill. and my father says it is as far to the hill by that side of the gipsies house as by this. over the fields so we do not meet till we get up. only to the brook we must not run. the white houses of the hamlet. not interfere with each other by the way. In a dell. could no longer see him." ' ' now ' ' ' ' . and fields. the firs. of an evening.

it seemed barking. . but instead of and a large fair house. ' ! its sprang along the foot-bridge. . and children in short white frocks." " Shall I? No it is too frightful. which ceased barking. and I shall cerShe was already standing by the brook tainly be first. on the contrary. and as it raised its head. some playing with lambkins. the dolt is gone half way by this The little dog kept time. 275 " I have only to take heart. they cannot eat me up alive in half a minute ' And with this. 1 ' ' ' ! ! ' ' ' ' ! through quick. and lilies. it had a red collar round its neck. and run along the bridge. and the black firs all round concealed from view her father's house and the rest of the landscape. not being bashful. again. and ruddy apricots." A little white dog was standing on the farther said she. or gathering flowers and giving them to one another some. with many-colored birds in them. and sprang back. the gay. Well. Mary thought Fie fie " said she. and shook itself in barking. lofty statues. some feeding the birds. and began to fawn on her. certainly to Heaven. quick. with a glittering bell. passed the dog. with flowing yellow hair and brilliant eyes. side. ries. roses. . and in a moment she was standing on the other bank. cages of shining wire were hung on the espaliers. while I stand here considering. as she looked at it more narrowly. were eating cherNo hut was to be seen. Mary was confounded with surprise. and knew not what to it. tulips. but. past the hut. the little " bell sounded with the finest tinkle. quite pretty.THE ELVES to herself. courageous little Mary : . . she went right up to the first . but. no longer frightful. were frolicking about. and barking with might and main. were glittering in the fairest colors blue and gold-red butterflies were wavering in the blossoms. singing beautiful songs. and through the yard. grapes. think . ! But what was her astonishment when here The loveliest. I must risk it " I will run for life I am cried she and the clump of firs. most variegated flower-garden lay round her. and. the dog some monster. In her terror. with a brazen door stood glancing in the middle of the space.

' ' came toward them. \ thou wilt like it well. and incited her to dance . I will stay here. that she can be here for but a little while. and store of berries and cherries to boot." Mary ate." said the little stranger. ' ' said the strange ' ' little girl ' . and the race. the other side it is not half so grand." . take and eat. that I might do it." On The gold-robed lady went away with a smile and many of the children now came bounding round the happy Mary in their mirth. visit us. There. and twitched her." said Zerina. " Thou wilt find thy comrade soon enough. and found the fruit more sweet than any she had ever tasted in her life before. said and asked about the stranger child.276 THE GERMAN CLASSICS little of the children." " for " No. and the prohibition of her parents. ' said the lady. and Andrew. " So you are not gipsies and rogues. were entirely for' ' gotten." exclaimed Mary. and now they Mary. here it is so beautiful. soon enough. and here I shall find the prettiest playthings. " asked the glittering running. and thou thyself hast taken She will have to leave us pleasure in her lively temper. . thou shouldst have * ' ' Thou ' ' " when I saw her admitted thought. playing on the other side. in a shining robe." "Art thou come to child " I saw thee . and talks of much he does not understand. but thou wert frightened for our little dog." art aware. asked " I my leave. as Andrew always told me He is a stupid thing. and wished the creature good evening. besides. then? ' ' 1 ' ! ' ' Stay with us. held out her hand. running wish to keep me. A stately woman. " I came hither by chance. we have often seen her running in the fields." But we are running a race. Zerina. across the bridge. ' ' Fairest lady.

She felt herself borne upward. the tall pines waved to and fro. they flew through the air. and you shall be my sisters at which the children all laughed. while the sweetest perfume filled the place. the flowers disappeared. . pushing up. ' ' said Zerina. and sank slowly and surely to the ground. and scattered some grains on the green earth. and the two children held each other fast embraced. She ran into the palace. for the trees were springing under them with the greatest speed. Two " green bushes stood before them. She kept. and budded all shall . or curious playthings. having scattered Mary it. by the playmate who had first met her. and the most variegated pinks. pushing and teasing one another with loud laughter when they met . after a few moments. like glittering dust. . They next went through the brazen door of the palace. as in waves and. however. At length Mary was beginning to be frightened. . and sang to it. while the rest were climbing up and down the trunks with quick dexterity. ' ' Now. swinging this way and that in the red clouds of the twilight. and returned with a little golden box.THE ELVES made music on 277 others brought her lambs. ' ' Now. She lifted a few with her little hand. Instantly the grass began to move. we ' ' at once." said she and Mary threw her arms about the slender form. At a signal from Zerina. and others rose in their room. any fell down in the press. and. ' ' . bright rose-bushes started from the ground. ' ' look for something greater. and embraced her. also took a little of the dust. in which lay a quantity of seeds. others instruments. she saw white lilies. Little Mary cried and cried again: " I will stay with you forever I will stay with you." She laid two pine-seeds in the ground. Grasp me fast. and kissed each other. for Zerina was the kindest and loveliest of them all. and stamped them in sharply with her foot. said Zerina. and the other little child sang a few loud tones. and the trees again sank down and set them on the ground as gently as they had lifted them if before to the clouds. shot rapidly up. have a royal sport.

and caught the rolling balls that were run away and it happened now and then that one looked askance. and putting them in the vessels others. so that both fell heavily and clumsily to the ground. were sitting in the round ball. They made angry faces. The gold was worked into tered with the friendliest red. Mary laughed Behind them sat an at their gestures and their old crumpled little man. little white teeth. and all the other hand. now these tints faded back in paleness. . whom Zerina reverently greeted. chamber. women. grave and wore a crown upon his brow. likely to in his eagerness upset another. dwarfs appeared to regard him as their master and obey his nod. shaking out the Then they darted awkwardly to gold-dust on the ground. the images altered and glowed with the most burning colors. and and left. many forms. Strange vessels stood along the walls. among which little figures of children were sporting and winding in every graceful posture. flowers. and glitMany little dwarfs were the right . and to draw breath and emit it through their ruby-colored lips so that up. and with the tones of the music. now the blue and green were sparkling like radiant light. under full sacks. partaking of the fairest fruits and listening In the vaulting of the ceiling. were tottering slowly along. hunch-backed and bandy-legged. busied in sorting the pieces from the heap. with long red noses. and all seemed filled with costly things. . by turns you could see the glance of their and the lighting up of their azure eyes. with much panting. palms. as ugliness. and precious stones of every hue shone out between them. . the purple flamed and the gold took fire. a stair of brass led down to a subterranean Here lay much gold and silver. to glorious invisible music. and then the naked children seemed to be alive among the flower-garlands. half-bent to the ground.278 THE GERMAN CLASSICS fair Here many elderly and young. and. and groves stood painted. From the hall. which they bore as millers do their grain. he thanked her with a He held a sceptre in his inclination of his head.

and this is why it blooms so freshly by the other side we get down into the great stream. All saluted the strangers. which grew narrower The At last the boat came aground. gentleman? " Our Metal-Prince. some had red stems of coral. with a surly voice. channels. they were only come to look about them in the chamber. the middle of the lake. into a little river. With kept his angry tones. out of all the . ' ' asked he. and often several of the children sprang about some one of them. ' . for they were standing by a lake. it diligently forward. " Still your old will there never be child-tricks replied the dwarf ' ' ' ' ! .THE ELVES << 279 What more wanted ? came a . and narrower. the children little Mary was afraid. " asked " Who is the Mary. ingots. "Are you all brisk here? " inassisted them to mount. and brooks were spreading from the little sea in every direction. This opened like a door. among the children might be seen the fairest women sporting in the waters. some wore garlands of sedge and water-lily. channels. the stranger saw that gaining multitudes of pipes. They seemed once more to reach the open air. came a crowd of little children swimming up. and a female form." said Zerina. some he sent away on errands. yon garden. " These waters to Zerina steered On " flow beneath the right. and they saw no sky above their heads. A little boat received them. an end to idleness? " he turned again to his people weighing and sorting the employment. and these steered onward through the revelry out of the lake. and It shot rapidly along. ." On a sudden. some he chid with this. others were blowing on crooked shells a tumultuous noise echoed merrily from the dark shores. as they walked along. and with kisses hung upon her neck and shoulders." replied Zerina. and from every quarter of the lake. as nearer. all red. replied the other. took their leave. ' ' They are ' just at work. and did not speak but her companion answered. quired Zerina. yet no sun appeared. and Zerina knocked against the strangers cliff.

' ' : day dawned. in abundant the talk." Mary. that nothing could be seen more graceful their bodies were as of red crystal. that. to the firs. did not feel fatigue. ' ' ' ' 1 ' ' ' ' ' . how they laugh and shout. . flowing and playing in its courses. and thereby the flowers." . . so that. and wine. they refreshed themselves on fruit and milk. replied the other. the heat is very pleasant. Zerina plucked her " Thou wilt burn sharply back. and fruits. Why do the pretty creatures not come out. In the garden. so that it appeared as if the blood were visible within them." They went up a winding stair. those down below spread out the fire-floods everywhere beneath the earth. are made to flourish. the birds were silent. however. and happy as they could wish indeed. in the tapestry. how glad they are. and thus the fiery creatures are kept ever busy and glad. in form so beautiful. my little for the whole of it is fire. They smiled on the and saluted her with various bows but as Mary stranger. to her astonishment.280 ' ' THE GERMAN CLASSICS . But for thee it is too hot here let us return to the garden. her eyes were dazzled by the radiance. The moonshine was lying on every flower. Look now. and Mary said Suppose we go. till morning. among the green groves. these red streams again are to run beside the brooks of water. there were figures moving up and down in dancing joyfulness. the stranger saw. and see how things look there? " When . Mary and her friend. asked she. and of so fair proportions. and play with us ? " As thou livest in the Air. and would faint and languish if they left it. was about approaching nearer them. and the children were asleep in complicated groups. and on a sudden Mary found herself in a most resplendent hall. the scene had changed since they left it. so are they obliged to stay continually in Fire. " Mary felt the heat. colored tapestry covered the walls with a purple glow and when her eye had grown a little used to it. crying: thyself. but walked about in the warm summer night. as she Flameentered. by way of change.

they . . they are The two standing up among the trees on the mound. or wind. . asked Mary. " These are our good trusty watchmen." cried Mary. ' ' We ' ' ' ' fair Bird is come to the hall. that cold and inexplicable fear may fall on every one that anxiety They are covered so. . or cold air." said her friend. as I have heard. and they waved and fanned themselves incessantly with large bat's wings. a haze seemed lying far and wide over the landscape. while again you. and a chill wind blew from without in their faces. which they cannot bear. the circuit is so narrow! " " but so it is. they were clad in folded cloaks of shaggy wool they held umbrellas of curious skins stretched out above them. ' ' How and the height which bounded the that we have does it come. ' ' replied Zerina . and they will surely please thee." proceeded through the flower-garden by pleasant groves. young and old were ' ' ! cried the children to : . They mounted to the dark firs. . at all?" " are called the Elves. because attempts to approach us. " I could out curiously beside the woolen roquelaures. never reaches down to us here is an everlasting spring and summer: yet if these poor people on the top were not frequently relieved. as they approached. which flared . laugh. would certainly perish. arrived at the firs domain. On the top were many strange forms standing." said her playmate they stand here and wave their fans. full of nightingales then they ascended a vine-hill and at last. when.THE ELVES ' ' 281 ' ' With all my heart. dusty faces." The They now perceived a mighty bustle on the green. replied the friendly child people talk about us on the Earth. too. without it is now cold and rainy. after long following the windings of a clear brook. with mealy. without." " " But who are inquired Mary. their misshapen heads not unlike those of white owls." " I know not. them all hastened Here. ' ' ' ' to walk so far here. thou wilt see our watchmen. But snow. then! " or have to the flowery fragrance you no name descending . yet I ' ' am frightened.

and then soon vanto tears of joy inquired Mary. by his This wise and glorious fair herald. and whithersoever he turns his face. The music sounded more gaily than before the colors and lights alternated more rapidly. were moved by it than and rapture. still rose the song. we have long looked 1 ' ' ' ' ' ! ished from their eyes. he again flew round the dome in circles. As he moved. on a tree . and streamed like floods of Light. His plumage was purple and green. . When he ceased. Why are ye all so glad ? 1 ' ' ' . Having entered. for him. they perceived the vast circuit filled with the most varied forms. At last the music ceased. — . and the eye was charmed with their radiance. and his legs of a flashing blue. and from within resounded a triumphant peal of music. that he is at hand. bending to her fair playmate. who seemed smaller than yesterday. in finer .282 THE GERMAN CLASSICS crowding over the threshold. said the little one The King is coming many of us have never seen him. and in its stately flight describing many a circle. . and the Bird. then darted through the door. and shining golden streaks played through it. But now he opened his glittering beak and sweetest melodies came pouring from his moved breast. with a rustling noise. the tints gleamed through each other. all bowed before him. is called Phoenix Bird. His bill was red. and soared into the light heaven. been sent to us by the King. there are happiness and mirth. on his head there waved a diadem of feathers. and all were looking upward to a large Bird with gleaming plumage. His size was as that of an eagle. more anxiously than you look for spring when winter lingers with you and now he has announced. floated down upon a glittering crown that hung hovering in air under the high window by which the hall was lighted from above. where he shone far up like a red point. the very children themselves. all shouting for joy. that was sweeping slowly round in the dome. so resplendent that they sparkled like jewels. stronger so that all. that has there is no other he dwells far off in Arabia. tones the lovesick nightingale gives forth.

Bielefeld and Leipzig Moritz von Schwind DANCE OF THE ELVES .Permission Velhagen & Klasing.


as in like manner there is When he feels himself grown old." said she "the King is to hold his court here for twenty years. Zerina wept. what wonders I have witnessed. were filling her with terror. my dear child." Then the lady with the golden robe came through the throng. It is seldom he so wings no second Phoenix. and as they went along. Take this ring. all the brooks become more bountiful. the shadows of the twilight.' she heard them say What a pretty girl Where can she have come from? " With quickened steps ' ' ' ' : ! . and rang will . led her into a seques" Thou must leave tered walk. and farewell. for the firs. . kindles it. and the woods more fresh and green a milder air will blow. his course that men behold him and when once in centuries . no hail shall hurt. and they parted. Two men passing by saluted her. and expect But now. us. my friend. as she stepped on the and I dare not tell them where I have been. but beware of telling any one of our existence or we must fly this land. . and fruitfulness and blessings will spread remarkable events. and dies singing and then from the fragrant ashes soars up the renewed Phoenix with unlessened beauty. and thou and all around will lose the happiness and blessing of our neighborhood. and beckoning Mary to her. he builds a pile of balm and incense. . . far over the land. Mary stooped to embrace her. my parents must have had on my account! " said she within herself. but chiefly here beside us . or green ' ' " What a night . no flood shall threaten. nor indeed would they believe me. kiss thy playmate. fertile. . Already she was on the narrow bridge the cold air was blowing on her back from the firs the little dog barked with all its might. Once more." They issued from the walk. they note it in their annals. the bleakness of the ruined huts. then hastened over.THE ELVES that resembles it 283 on Earth. the meadows more gardens richer. and think of us. and rivulets its little bell darkness of the she looked round. all the fields and the wine more generous. perhaps longer. this does occur. thou and I must part. for the sight of the King is not permitted thee.

with a forecasting tone. Yes. after seven long years? been! Why didst thou never send us tidings of thee? " " said " Seven years! Mary. In this perplexity she opened the door. where she could not give the people any notion of her parents' residence. and at length she had recollected her No matter how it is birthplace. Thy mother and sprang toward her Ha. How comest thou unexpectedly. dear. she had been taken up by a coach. only wept. by degrees. and . and so returned. sluggish creature. ' ' "It is Andrew. having lost her way. It was they themselves chiefly that. so Where hast thou " I have won the trustfully by the hand race. and loved her how they had lately died. Mary was astonished that she almost reached to her father's stature. art but just returned ' ' ! They again asked. laughing. between an unknown woman and a stranger youth. said Martin. " where is my mother? " said the woman. she asked the name of ' ' the stranger youth. indeed. as well as by her eyes and shape. cried she. ' ' ' ' ! . shaped a story for her How. and the parents Mary! " my lost. she approached the house but the trees which were hanging last night loaded with fruit were now standing dry and the house was differently painted. Mary was amazed. all were moved with joy. ' ' ' ' ! ' ' ' ' ! ' ' : — yes. I was at the pear-tree and back again seven years ago. Good God Father. and shaking her thou. yes. long-lost. they pressed her. she could answer nothing. and could not order her " Seven whole " ideas and recollections. and a new barn had been built beside it. thou surely canst not leafless .284 THE GERMAN CLASSICS . years? 1 ' our neighbor 's to us again. good Mary . how she was conducted to a distant town. and she could not understand how her mother had become so changed and faded. and behind the table sat her father. and carried to a strange remote part. and thought she must be dreaming. All embraced her. indeed thou art She had recognized her by a little brown mole beneath the chin. : . but remembering her instruction. where certain worthy persons brought her up. ' ' said Andrew.

for when she measured these halls and forms by the wonders and the high beauty she had seen with the Elves in their hidden abode.THE ELVES ! 285 exclaimed her mother. The trees were budding earlier It was now February. and the gold of it glittered strangely. this earthly splendor seemed but dim to her. but appeared quite foreign. The old Count and his Lady were surprised at her good breeding. active. she had now arranged her thoughts a little. she made answer courteously in good phrases to all their questions . inclosing a stone of burning red. The young lords were charmed with her beauty. which was clean and simple. the pastures and meadows the hills seemed heavirrigate . She was glad when the hour of sleep arrived. and Mary could not be at home in anything she saw. the fruit-trees blossomed as they had never done. little brooks gushed out to recollect it. than usual. The people of the had once more to castle likewise sent for tell Mary. but not embarrassed. To her father's question. could better stand the questions of the people in the village. and she Next morning she felt much more hastened to her bed. she looked at the ring on her finger. Andrew was there too with the earliest. my all Andrew waited supper. and collected. all of whom came in to bid her welcome. all fear of noble persons and their equipage had passed away from her. and she her story to them. The blooming maiden of fifteen had made a deep impression on him. the vines rose higher and higher. the spring rose fairer in the land than the oldest men could In every quarter. ing. The house seemed small and dark. glad. he had passed a sleepless night. my own. and a swelling fragrant blessedness hung suspended heavily in rosy clouds over . " my little daughter. and serviceable beyond all others. the nightingale had never come so soon. which was now grown quite familiar to her. she replied that the ring also was a present from her benefactors. the presence of men was almost mean. " enough that we have thee again. she felt astonished at her dress. she was modest.

she was solaced by a little daughter. In autumn. whom she named Elfrida. whom she knew to be . no tempest injured the fruits the wine flowed blushing in immense grapes and the inhabitants of the place felt astonThe next ished. the benefactors of the land. and in winter they were married. . Mary yielded to the pressing entreaties of Andrew and her parents she was betrothed to him. that all people regarded her with astonishment. She often thought with inward longing of her residence behind the fir-trees. Beautiful as all that lay around her was. or . and her mother could not banish the thought that her child resembled one of those shining little ones in the space behind the Firs. So passed this year. She would then retire into a corner of the garden. thinking of the designation of her friendly Elves. but seemed to avoid. The little Elfrida soon displayed peculiar faculties and gifts for she could walk at a very early age. and read. and from the remembrance of this a faint regret attuned her nature to soft melancholy. and could speak perfectly before she was a twelvemonth old. . especially to Andrew. . she knew of something yet more beautiful. their tumultuous amusements. who appeared to take delight in zealously abusing them. The young people lived with Martin and Brigitta. It smote her painfully when her father and mother talked about the gipsies and vagabonds that dwelt in the dark Often she was on the point of speaking spot of ground. and were captivated as in a sweet dream. yet still she repressed the word that was struggling to escape her bosom. and helped their parents in conducting their now extended husbandry. with a sort of horror. and liked best to be alone. out in defense of those good beings. and of such wondrous beauty. but men had now become accustomed to the marvelous. and after some few years she had become so wise and clever. in the next. All prospered beyond expectation no rude day. she continued serious and still. Elfrida cared not to be with other children.286 THE GERMAN CLASSICS : the scene. year was like its forerunner. the house being large enough for all.

which she directly recognized as one of the sort she had seen in such abundance in the subterranean vaults The little thing was greatly frightened." The little girl had this peculiarity. she washed herself carefully. as. Bri" gitta. often also you might see her sitting. on dressing her out for a visit to the castle. allowing no one. full of thoughts. or impetuously walking alleys. and. But what was her astonishment. not even her mother. when. and dressed without assistance. with an old arbor. speaking to herself. and. She was almost the earliest riser in the house. besides. In this solitude Elfrida delighted . from the new arrangement of the buildings. the child." her grandmother. l ' up and down the world. most. not thinking it of any consequence. ! . but endeavored to do everything herself. and at last confessed that she had found it in the garden. as she liked it much. many times observed. went out with her in silence to the castle.THE ELVES work 287 diligently with her needle. they are too good for this . for she readily was healthy. and it occurred to nobody to interrupt her here. Sideward from the farm-house lay some offices for the storing of produce and implements and behind these there was a little green. to meddle with her articles. now visited by no one. Her parents allowed her to have her will in these things. and will never find her proper place on Earth. had kept it carefully she at the same time prayed so earnestly and pressingly to have it back that Mary fastened it again in its former place. it lay too far from the garden. The mother humored her in this caprice. Such wise children do not grow to age. so . at night she was equally careful. that she was very loath to let herself be served by any one. she took special heed to pack up her clothes and belongings with her own hands. suspended by a string. she found upon her breast. is beautiful beyond nature. happening one holiday to insist. a piece of gold of a strange form. and waxed apace only her strange sagacious answers and observations often made them anxious. regardless of Elfrida's tears and screams. as if deep in thought.

often. or fly over to thee like a bird. . Ah! could glad in the least at growing to be a tall girl. but the wicked kernel is already there. is pretty and refreshing yet nothing to the blossom of spring. "Ah! dear little creature. The Elf embraced her beautiful companion. So is it also with us mortals. wert thou but to be a child as long as I! but they all said Elfrida Willingly would I do it. ! — ! ! . "it is quite impossible but I will come to thee. I will pass . for growing wise. ' ' ' ' ' ' . Ah and then I shall see thee no more. and arbor. " I but once visit vou! " Since the King is with us. in the kindliest unity. An apple. say I shall come to sense and give over playing altogether for I have great gifts. it happened that a stone was lying loose. often. One afternoon her mother chanced to be in these buildings. so that she obtained a view right into the Elfrida was sitting there on a little bench. and the buds come joyfully forth. in pain and waxing. and she noticed that a beam of light was coming in. invisible through the air. my darling. which pushes off and casts away the fair flower's dress. but must grow to fruit in harvest. it can do nothing more. and said mournin the wall. through a chink She took a thought of looking through this and seeing what her child was busied with. and could be pushed aside. and none shall see me either here or there. seeking for some lost article among the lumber.288 THE GERMAN CLASSICS that frequently her parents did not see her for half a day. . that passes under it so stately and broad. then the sun grows hot. and now. and aperture. I am not ." said Zerina. as they think. and every one thinks surely something great will come of it. beside her the well-known Zerina. as I sport with thee. so fully: have I sported with thy mother. and the children were playing and amusing each other. to be sure. thou dear Zerina Yet it how glorious the is with us as with the fruit-tree flowers It looks with its red bursting buds blossoming apple-tree. when she was a child but you mortals so soon grow tall and thoughtful! It is very " hard.

" as I will be ! we What can ' ' ' ' like thee in my heart. " it will continue fresh and it ' ' ' ' " Give blooming 1 ' till winter. this wonder of the Earth!" thrice me here. The mother. or in earnest conversation. till they hovered above the arbor. Mary clasped her child to her breast. ' ' were thyself. when he came to search for the child which for some time he was wont to do. I my room. giving back the rose. with two deep-red roses." Zerina took a well-known box from her bosom." ' ' ! ! . They embraced again. then breathed the budding rose. held up her finger. well replied Elf rida and the fairy her mortal playmate in her arms. said she. ' ' 289 little much. as her retiredness did not please him." ' ' I will keep will guard it in it. then . Vol. while thou art so I do to please thee I Thou must like me very dearly. and kiss it night and morn- ing as if it " The sun is " I must home. and kissed it thrice. yet smiled. and often calmed her husband. said Elf rida. and he feared that. in the end. and mounted with clasped her from the ground. and instantly a green bush stood before them. forgot herself. The mother often glided to the chink. She henceforth allowed the good little girl more liberty than formerly. IV— 19 . and threatened. In the evening. upon Now. in alarm. bending their heads as if to kiss each other. How well Oh. child. The children plucked them " that it would not smiling. or even pervert her understanding. when Zerina from the air." said the little Elf. and pushed out her head in terror to look after them. and the bush disappeared. " Wouldst thou like to " fly? inquired Zerina once." setting. it might make her silly. " said Elf " this red die so soon! rida. said Elf rida. threw two grains from it on the ground. much together. employed in sport. let us make another rose. and Zerina vanished." said the other. but come.THE ELVES Oh. " as an image of thee little . with a feeling of alarm and veneration. and almost always found the bright Elf beside her child.

Mary had said in her zeal Thou dost injustice to the poor people in the " But when Andrew hut! pressed her to explain why she differed in opinion from the whole village. or threatened. In the evening. and as Andrew at every word grew more incredulous. she still broke off embarrassed. and caressing her in the arbor. in anger.290 THE GERMAN CLASSICS descended with the child. : • • . and led him to the chink. he beheld the glittering Elf sporting with his child. the history of her youth. toward the firs. where. by one means or another. in the shape of a raven. and shook his head in mockery. It grew dark. when his wife. but with indignant looks. in disputing with her husband. said to him: Hush for they are benefactors to thee and to every One day. Andrew grew and maintained that. nay. the shining little creature shook her head." " Benefactors*! " cried the at last tempted to relate under promise of the strictest secrecy. as a nuisance to the country. Andrew scarcely spoke. After this. Mary felt depressed and frightened. 1 ' ! one of us. and why she could understand it better than the whole of them. Suddenly there . it happened more than once that Mary was observed by her and every time. she made the sign of threatening. . ' ' : and became silent. she kissed her rose with tears. the little one was very still. . an exclamation of astonishment escaped him. Often. and disappeared. ever. and then said to Elfrida Thou canst not help it. and trembled violently not with friendly. flew with hoarse cries over the garden. ment. embraced her. to his amazeto him. she took him by the hand. from his lordship himself." She embraced the little one with stormy haste and then. yet with friendly looks. wise as they believe themselves. and Zerina raised her eyes. " " These rogues and vagabonds! In her indignation. the crew must be packed away. He knew not what to say. On the instant she grew pale. she was now other. in astonishment. more insistent than after dinner. dearest heart but outsiders will never learn sense. .

and when you turned to the Firs. but the scene around them they could scarcely recognize. and all was the day. she said. silent when the sun. how these people must have left the place at last. and tones of lamentation moaned in the air. behind. 291 went a rustling through the trees birds flew to and fro with wild screaming. a stranger of large size had come to him. As it was growing dark. for all of them. the earth shook. with his cheerful light. and several inhabitants of the village came and told about the fearful night. for their huts were standing empty. and within had quite a common look. at thee. other trees." Mary forbade her to speak of this and now the ferryman came across the river. and with fear and trembling awaited Toward morning it grew calmer. since on thy account she had now to suffer the severest and most painful punishments. thunder was heard to roll. The freshness of the wood was gone the hills were shrunk. were very loath to leave this quarter. She had a traveling-pouch slung round her. the brooks were flowing languidly with scanty streams. the door. . I was praying from the bottom of my heart. they were standing there no darker or more dreary than the The huts behind were no longer frightful. just like the dwellings of other poor people some of their household gear was left . . Elf rida in secret said to her mother last night. and told them new wonders. and how they had been across the spot where the gipsies had lived. Andrew dressed himself. and a large staff in her hand. a hat on her She was very angry head. when the door suddenly opened.THE ELVES . rose over the wood. and my playmate entered to take leave of me. . the sun shone clear on their faces. : "I could not sleep and in my fright at the noise. and Mary now observed that the On opening stone of the ring upon her finger had become quite pale. . Andrew and his wife had not courage to rise they wrapped themselves in their bed clothes. as she had always been so fond of thee. the sky seemed gray.

men and women. a stately train. many heavy casks. they took along with them. so bright that. and the distant woods were rustling fearfully.292 THE GERMAN CLASSICS and had hired his boat till sunrise. it went forward to my boat. and spread itself along toward the river. mounted on ness. nearer and nearer. I slipped softly to the window. and all stepped into it. in waving brightgoblins. Then came. Many a time the boat landed. a bustling. were swimming many thousands of glittering forms in the air white clouds and lights were wavering. and gurgled between whiles. half In the morning all was still. and then suddenly there would be silence. continued the old man. sparkling proceeded forward from the dark Firground. Thus it went on all . by the boat. like many thousands it of falling stars. I perceived a white streaming light that grew broader and ' ' — l ' broader. and the tall stranger ferried them over. but the river is. half in joy. In the river. Heaven only knows. I saw nothing of the horse but its head for the rest of . . Great clouds were driving restlessly through the sky. and went back. a small white horse. that the boatman should remain quiet in his house " I was at least should not cross the threshold of his door. and leave their beloved The noise of the rudder and the water creaked dwelling. far away. night. and moans and lamentations glided round it. and all were crowding round him. and the strange barfrightened. and rushing. too. which multitudes of horrid-looking little fellows carried and rolled. and all lamented and bewailed that they must travel forth so far. I thought the sun was rising there and the redness of the dawn glimmering in my eyes. but with this condition. . it was as if my cottage shook. On a sudden. moved over the fields. as he came across. I at last fell asleep in the tumult. whether they were devils or and waving. it was covered with costly glittering cloths and trappings on his brow the old man had a crown. and children. as it seemed. Then I heard a trampling. and was again laden. a jingling. in terror. it seemed an old man. and looked toward the river. gain would not let me sleep.

that the Count." The same year there came a blight the woods died away. and the scene. which in time decayed and fell to ruins. scarcely showing here and there. returned to the quarter where he had lived before. with his people. . Mary . boat in . run it off. with his son-in-law. and I know not how I am to use my now. The fruit-trees all withered. a spot or two where grass. the little maiden had herself faded away. and bald. and thought of her kind playmate and as it drooped and withered. and wept for the that had departed. the vines faded and the aspect of the place became so melancholy away. upon the spot before the hut. so did she also hang her head. was in autumn standing waste. often stood Martin. which had once been the joy of every traveler. next year left the castle. and before the spring. and in a few years she too was gone. with a dingy greenness. still grew up. in the sea of sand. the springs ran dry. She wasted herself away happiness Old like her child.THE ELVES as it 293 were. Elfrida gazed on her rose day and night with deep longing. naked.

Ph. in the heart of Brandenburg. Heinrich von Kleist was born October 18. formal talent of Gottsched is an exemplary instance. died before their children had grown to maturity. The rigid and formal pines that grow in sombre military files from the sandy ground make a fit landscape for this race of fighting and ruling men. and the singularly and colorless mind of the greatest thinker of modern times. This first great literary artist of Prussia was descended from a representative Prussian family of soldiers. such as the Great Elector. Nollen. President of Lake Forest College [RANDENBURG has. as these. In the wider extent of Prussia as well. at the age of fourteen. where his father was stationed as a captain in the service of Frederick the Great. Immanuel Kant. [294] . a corporal in the regiment of guards at Pots. Even among the notable writers of this region. rather than poets and artists. been the stern mother of soldiers. The parents. Frederick the Great. seems eminently Prussian in Growing out of such traditions and antecedents quality. the genius of Heinrich von Kleist appears as a cold striking anomaly. which had numbered eighteen generals among its members. the greatest names have been those of generals and statesmen. both of gentle birth. intellectual power has usually predominated over gifts of feeling or of imagination. from olden times. Heinrich was predestined by all the traditions of the family to a military career after a private education he became. 1777. the arid. rearing her sons in a discipline that has seemed harsh to the gentler children of sunnier lands. at Frankfort-on-the-Oder.THE LIFE OF HEINRICH VON KLEIST By John S.D. and Bismarck.

Munich HEINRICH IN von KLEIST His TWENTY-FOURTH VRAK Made after a miniature presented by the poet to his bride .Permission Oskar Beck.


occupied his mind. with pedantic gravity. but was restlessly soon reaching out for a wider and deeper experience. 1795. and in June. as a step toward the solution of this problem. The humdrum life duties and the easy pleasures of garrison had no lasting charms for the future poet. his battalion had returned to Potsdam he was then an ensign. and all manner of vague plans. to is didactic turn. in which the ardent student found himself bereft of his fond hope of attaining to absolute truth. 1799. who was as yet unconscious of his latent power. Kleist returned to Berlin and secured a modest appointment in the customs department. Intensive study of Kant's philosophy brought on an intellectual crisis. to retail his newly won learning to his sisters and a group of their friends. and in his twentieth year was promoted to the rank of . Wilhelmina von Zenge. but the young soldier saw little actual fighting. in August. against the wishes of his family and his superior officers. in April. artistic. first heeded on a trip to Wiirzburg. 1801. second lieutenant. 295 The regiment was ordered south for the Rhine campaign against the French revolutionists. the The question of a career now daughter of an officer. crowded out his interest in study. Within the year he was betrothed to a member of this informal class. He found no more satisfaction in the civil than in his former military service. We find him preparing himself. by a devious route. and brought them. His sister Ulrica accompanied him on a journey that began in April. drew the dreamer irresistibly away from his desk. he obtained a discharge from the army and entered upon his brief course as a student in his native city.HEINRICH VON KLEIST dam. 1800. and the romantic lure of travel. and hastened. Meanwhile the romantic appeal of Nature. For the time being. the impulse of self-expression took this very prominent also in his correspondence. which . He applied himself with laborious zeal to the mastery of a wide range of subjects. by energetic private study. for the University. literary and academic.

amid the majestic scenery . as The Thierrez Family or The Ghonorez Family. By this time Kleist had become clearly conscious of his vocation the strong creative impulse that had hitherto bewildered him now found its proper vent in poetic expression. was given a This drama Gessner published for Kleist. He ambition. characteristic secretiveness he kept hidden. Kleist coldly severed relations with her. To these sympathetic friends he read his first tragedy. and Ludwig Wieland. The Broken Jug. the novelist Heinrich Zschokke. It had no sooner appeared than the author felt himself to have outgrown its youthful weaknesses of imitation and exaggeration. to put into literary German background. With even from his career. under the title The Schroffenstein Family. son of the famous author of Oberon.296 THE GERMAN CLASSICS Paris in July. form the story suggested by an engraving that hung in Zschokke 's room. but which. in the winter of 1802-03. his one comedy. Kleist realized his romantic dream by taking up his abode. 1801. Kleist found little in felt the need of solitude for the maturing of his plans. and in Bern became acquainted with a group of young authors. on their advice. Absorbed in his new Paris to interest him. on a wager. he proposed to his betrothed that she join him secretly in establishing a home upon a small farm in Switzerland. By common consent the prize was awarded to Kleist 's production. on a little island at the outlet of the Lake of Thun. and with the double object of seeking in idyllic pursuits the inspiration of Nature and of earning leisure for writing. 1802. Another dramatic production grew directly out of the discussions of this little circle. in its earlier draft. the publisher Heinrich Gessner. The friends agreed. had a Spanish setting. When Wilhelmina found it impossible to accept this plan. He journeyed to Switzerland all in December. the drama at which he was quietly working. sister. which. in rural seclusion. and he felt himself dedicated to a literary . In April.

and Shakespeare. In Dresden old friends sought to cheer him in his desperate attempts to seize the elusive ideal. he proposed a joint suicide. recasting his Schroffenstein Family. and his hopeless pursuit of the perfect ideal became an intolerable obsession to his ambitious and sensitive soul. the old poet was transported with enthusiasm. a friend accompanying him to Switzerland. Robert Gidscard. and he was convinced that Kleist had the power to fill the void in the history of the German drama that even Goethe and Schiller had not filled." hope to Two months of intense mental exertion in the seclusion of his island left Kleist exhausted. meditating historical dramas on Leopold of Austria and Peter the Hermit. When a political revolution drove Ludwig Wieland from Bern.HEINRICH VON KLEIST of the Bernese Oberland. received Kleist kindly. Again he was driven to seek solace and inspiration in travel. He could not remain in Weimar. where the poet Wieland. working out the Broken Jug. encouraged by the applause of his first confidants. the dean of the remarkable group of great authors gathered at Weimar. hastened to Bern to care for him. and expending the best of his untrained genius on the plan of a tragedy. But in spite of Wieland 's generous encouragement. they followed the latter to Weimar. 1803. on receiving belated news of his plight. he labored with joyous energy. in his despair. in scenes of his unfinished Gidscard. these fragments seemed to him worthy of the united genius of iEschylus. persuading his secretive visitor to reveal his literary plans and when Kleist recited from memory some of the . and he fell seriously ill whereupon Ulrica. in which he strove to create a drama of a new type. and made him his guest at his With great difficulty Wieland succeeded country estate. 297 In this retreat. combining the beauties of Greek classical art and of Shakespeare with his Gidscard the young poet even dared " snatch the laurel wreath from Goethe's brow. to more ' ' ' ' than one of them. . Arrived at Geneva in October. Kleist found it impossible to complete this masterpiece. . Kleist fell into the deepest . Sophocles.

burned his manuscript of Guiscard. with his friend. which. . from the French. and started him back on his homeward way. Napoleon's victorious troops pressed on to Berlin and the Prussian court retreated with the tide of fugitives to Konigsberg. and made secretly for Boulogne. Amphipoem. 1804. and his crushing defeat. by a small pension from Queen Louise. tryon — both so altered in the — . and in October. and of Moliere's comedy. Warned by the catastrophe of the earlier attempt to reach the heights at a single bound. Finally he attempted another great drama in verse. The poet's was broken. reappeared in Potsdam. tasks: interpretation that they seem more like originals than translations prose tales that are admirable examples of this form The Marquise of 0. Penthesilea. and he was glad to accept a petty civil post that took him to Konigsberg. Fortunately he fell in with an acquaintance who saved him from the risk of being arrested as a spy. hoping to find an honorable death in Napoleon's projected invasion of England. renunciation. Meanwhile the clouds were gathering about his beloved country. and the recasting of the unique comedy The Broken Jug. spirit He was detained at Mentz by serious illness. the thunderbolt fell in the rout of the Prussian army at Jena.. After a year of quiet work. and the first part of the masterly short story Michael Kohlhaas.298 THE GEEMAN CLASSICS despondency. to resign his office and again devote himself to literature. 1806. The two years spent in Konigsberg were years of remark- able development in Kleist's literary power. he now schooled himself with simpler adaptations. in June. The Earthquake in Chili. he was enabled. of La Fontaine's The two Pigeons. broke pride. who had again repelled a joint suicide. embodying in the old classical story the tragedy of his own desperate struggle for Guiscard. but finally. and wrote Ulrica a letter full of hopeless Half crazed by disappointment and wounded lie rushed madly through France to Paris. Kleist was overwhelmed by the misery of this cataclysm.

he had clearly foreseen and foretold. his talent was recognized by the leading men of the city. but was arrested as a spy at the gates of Berlin and held for months as a prisoner in French fortresses. drama.. In the stress of the times and in spite of the most strenuous efforts. The Marquise of 0. which included the issuing of a sumptuous literary and artistic monthly. This venture was foredoomed to failure by the inexperience of its projectors and by the unsettled condition of a time full of political upheaval and most unfavorable to any literary enterprise. and the new drama Kitty of Heilbronn. this brilliant unintelligent acting theatre was turned failed wretchedly. the Phoebus. 1807. where he remained until April. These were the happiest efforts of Ulrica and the most prolific months of his fragmentary life. Arminius {Die Hermannsschlacht) two tales. the first act of the ill-fated Robert Guiscard. hopes being realized. The Broken Jug. group of friends he started on foot for Dresden. With three friends he embarked on an ambitious publishing enterprise. 1809. Weimar comedy to bitterness when. before the energetic and others procured his release. and the publishing business was a total wreck. a laurel wreath was placed upon his brow by " the " at last he found all his prettiest hands in Dresden. Kleist's joy at the acceptance of The Broken Jug by Goethe for the . the disappointed author held Goethe responsible for this fiasco and foolishly attacked . The Betrothal in San Domingo and The Foundling. Late in July. because of and stage management. evidently reproduced from memory. Kleist's own contributions to this periodical were of the highest value here appeared first in print generous portions of Penthesilea. the Phoebus went under with the first volume. and part of Michael KohlIf we add to these works the great patriotic haas. . he finally arrived in Dresden. the production of the brief period in Dresden is seen to bulk very large. and lyric and narrative poems. The best literary and social circles of the Saxon capital were open to him.HEINRICH VON KLEIST 299 With a however.

Other disappointments came in rapid succession. and performed pri- vately at the palace of Prince Radziwill. he passed through Frankfort on the way to Berlin. raising funds. he came to Frankfort-on-the-Oder to disNovember. 1810. and reports of his death were current. Kleist then against the turned to lyric poetry and polemic tirades for the expression of his patriotic ardor. Again he turned to dramatic production. Kleist again fell seriously ill. ' ' ' ' Broken by these successive disasters. for which he immediately wrote a series of glowing articles. hiiu in a series of spiteful epigrams. had returned. 1809. to which the Prussian court. created his masterpiece. When Austria rose against Napoleon. and rede rich of Hamin the patriotic Prussian play. for four months his friends had no word In from him. his Arminius performed at Vienna. and again disappeared. before being given at the National Theatre. mostly in the form of political satires. Louise. in July. the Prince of Homburg to be dedicated to Queen Louise. 1810. 1809. he started for the seat of war and was soon the happy eye-witness of the Austrian victory at Aspern. Fortune seemed once more F was to be smiling upon the dramatist. in May. and now found it impossible to get a hearing for his drama. he planned a patriotic journal. This plan was wrecked by the decisive defeat of the Austrians at Wagram in July. He found many old friends in Berlin. as the brave and beautiful Queen Louise was very kindly disposed toward him. But again the cup of success was With the death of Queen dashed froni the poet's lips. Kitty .300 THE GERMAN CLASSICS He but longed to have the Austrian authorities were too timid to risk the production of a play that openly preached German unity and a war of revenge Roman tyranny of Napoleon. Prince burg. pose of his share in the family home as a last means of In January. he lost his only powerful friend at court. and even had prospects of recognition from the court. with the support of the commandant. In Prague. now subservient to Napoleon.



declined Two by Cotta. and aroused a great deal of interest. 1811. where he was looked upon as a ne'er-do-well and a disgrace to alive. worst of all. the new numbers in this collection were The Duel. including some masterpieces in this form. Brentano. The enterprise began well. with the assistance of the popular philosopher Adam Miiller and the well-known romantic authors Arnim.HEINRICH VON KLEIST of Heilbronn. the censorof a government that was at once timid and tyrannical ship limited the scope and destroyed the effectiveness of the paper. As a last the reputation of a fine old military family. and Kleist spent himself in vain efforts to keep it The poet now found himself in a desperate predicament. he published a politico-literary journal appearing times a week. financially ruined by the failure of all his enterprises. but was so displeased with it that he made no effort to sell the edition. 1811. The Beggar Woman of Locarno. he found himself without honor at home. while accepting all manner of commonplace works by inferior authors. it being a time when Prussia seemed to be girding herself for another struggle with Napoleon. and discredited with the government. and Iffland. The famous publisher Cotta did print Pen- thesilea. rejected this play. and . and Kitty of Heilbronn. From October. hardly fared better. the patriotic men who had been quietly preparing for the inevitable war of liberation were horrified by the movement of the Prussian government toward another alliance with Napoleon. volumes of tales. the popular dramatist and director of the Berlin Theatre. success. until March. however. and he found no sympathy or support on a final visit to his family in Frankfort. Gradually. 301 was not a performed after many delays at Vienna. fell flat when it was printed in Berlin. In October. But the attempt equipment to bor- row enough money for his military failed. 1810. Again the much-tried poet turned to journalism. and Saint Cecilia. resort he applied for reinstatement in the army. and five Fouque. from which he vainly sought some reparation for the violence done to his journal.

near Potsdam. had brought liberation to Germany it was on the thirty-sixth anniversary of Kleist 's birth that Napoleon's power was shaken by the decisive Battle of . here Kleist wrote a touching farewell letter to his sister. however. His acquaintance was largely with the authors who repreIn his own works. who was doomed by an incurable disease to a life of suffering. the first collection of Kleist 's works. and. Long before this time. Kleist was singularly independent of the romantic influence. Ten years passed after Kleist 's death before his last great dramas. Through Adam Miiller he had become acquainted with Henrietta Vogel. to support the that might at arch-enemy of his His case had become utterly hopeless. this juncture the unfortunate poet found what he had so often sought in his crises of despair a companion in At — suicide. the to mark the grave. after the November tions. though violent. Tieck and the Schlegels were a few years older. were published. half a century elapsed before a Prussian prince set up a simple granite monument of 21. in 1826. the patriotic uprising for which he had labored with desperate zeal in his later works. and Arnim and Brentano somewhat younger. an intelligent woman of romantic temperament. edited by the eminent poet and critic Ludwig Tieck. 1811. Fouque was of the same age as he. where Kleist took Henrietta's life and then his own. In the same lonely place his grave was dug. and here the greatest Prussian poet lay forgotten. Leipzig. who also brought out. sensation of his tragic end. Arminius and the Prince of Homburg. She listened eagerly to Kleist 's suggestions of an escape together from the intolerable ills of life. after the brief. . This sented this tendency. Heinrich von Kleist was born into a generation that was dominated by the spirit of Romanticism. on the afternoon most deliberate preparacompanions strolled into the silent pine woods.302 Kleist felt it THE GERMAN CLASSICS impossible to enter an army any moment be ordered country. The two drove from Berlin to a solitary inn on the shore of the Wannsee.

works give evidence of the finest artistic sanity and conHis acute sense of literary form sets him off science. his enthusiastic acceptance of Rousseau's gospel of Nature. are characteristically say. in drama or story. in plenty. his action grows naturally out . which deepened at times into black despair.*' That this judgment was unduly harsh is evident enough from the confidence and affection that Kleist inspired in many of the best his men of his time. is his passionate patriotism. author would not have destroyed the manuscrupulous script of Robert Guiscard because he could not keep throughout its action the splendid promise of the first act. He was his own severest critic. his love of travel. his exaggerated secretiveness so. as he did over his own education. from the whole generation of Romanticists. Whatever may have been Kleist's personal peculiarities. Seldom is there any interruption of the unity and simple directness of his actions by sub-plots or episodes. and most of whose important works were either medleys or fragments. there was something morbid in his excessive reserve. and said of the younger poet: " In spite of my honest desire to sympathize with him. as there surely was in his moroseness. His uncompromising individualism and overweening ambition.HEINRICH VON KLEIST is 303 the more remarkable inasmuch as his character traits in common with the ardent spirits of the had many Romantic group. and he scorned the easy theatrical devices by which Whether the successful playwrights of his day gained their effects. Romantic. Goethe was most unpleasantly impressed by this abnormal quality of Kleist's personality. and labored over his productions. who held the author's personal caprice to be the supreme law of poetry. I could not avoid a feeling of horror and loathing. as of a body beautifully endowed by nature. His works are usually marked by rare logical and artistic consistency. and we may Eccentricities he had about the most important interests of his life. but infected with an incurable disease. A less with untiring energy and intense concentration.

lacked the practical experience by which most of the characters dramatists learn the technique of their art. while lative exposition.304 THE GERMAN CLASSICS fact that his and the situations. idolized by his as stricken with the plague when the crowning glory troops. The style. is variety and freedom of tone. there is very The Schroffenstein little that is mediocre or negligible. too. but it can bear comparison with the first plays of the greatest dramatists. and the comic efforts of the arch-rascal to squirm out of the inevitable discovery only serve to make his guilt the surer. The opening chorus of the people. He describes and characterizes with careful. his artistic restraint in care. one modern realism. though the author. himself the culprit in the case at trial in his court. beginning on the verge of the catastrophe. of the first forerunners of But. and the conciseness of his expression. Hence the marvelous dramas can be performed with hardly an alteration. the formal balanced speeches. nephew presages an irrepressible family conflict. he was an innovator. On the other hand. a day when caprice was the ruling fashion. often microscopic detail. there is much realistic characterization and a Shakespearian The Broken Jug. In all the varied volume of Kleist's works. analvtical in its conduct. are traits borrowed from Greek tragedy. Family. is prentice work. the village judge. the discord between Guiscard 's son and Almost from the is first it is evi- dent that Adam. as Wieland felt when he listened with rapture to the author's recital. to be sure. the analytical action. of his military career seems to be within his grasp. In this comedy the . never having seen any of them on the stage. is a blend of classical and Elizabethan art. better serves his purpose. Kleist evidently studied the models of classical art with His unerring sense of form. The fragment of Robert Guiscard is masterly in its rapid cumurepresenting the hero. at the same time. are doubtless due to classical influence. his psychological analysis is remarkably exact and incisive and he fearlessly uses the ugly or the trivial when either .

is far freer and more expansive. almost savage. too. it was his deepest of verse The last Vol. The form. the fate of this work on the stage has depended upon finding an actor capable of bringing out all the possibilities in the part of Adam. with an unconventional mingling and prose. In them Kleist gave undying expression to his ardent patriotism. makes a successful performance difficult. IV — 20 . The slowly moving action. in it he uttered all the yearning and frenzy of his that transcend the drama Yet there first passion for the unattainable and ruined masterpiece Guiscard. It was written with his heart's blood. and the effect of the Dutch genre-paintings of Teniers or Jan Steen is admirably reproduced in dramatic form. colorful life of the age of chivalry. and emotional melody in this tragedy beyond anything in Kleist 's other works. Instead of the fabled scenes of Homeric combat. Kitty of Eeilbronn stands almost at the opposite pole The pathos of Griselda's unquestioning self-abnegation is her portion. between whom love breaks forth in the midst of mortal combat. we have here as a setting the richly romantic and from Penthesilea. who is a masterpiece of comic selfcharacterization. Passionate. constantly reverting to past incidents. yet wonderfully sweet in its gentler moods and glorified with the golden glow of high poetry.HEINRICH VON KLEIST 305 blank verse adapts itself to all the turns of familiar humorous dialogue. headlong. Penthesilea is a work apart. is the character of the queen of the Amazons. she is the extreme expression of the docile quality that Kleist sought in his betrothed. two plays were born of the spirit that brought forth the War of Liberation. Nothing could be further removed from the pseudo-classical manner of the eighteenth century than this modern and individual interpretation of the old mythical story of Penthesilea and Achilles. this The clash of passions creates scenes in is humanly and dramatically a wealth of imaginative beauty permissible.

with effective use of retardation and climax. Never has there been a more sympathetic literary exposition of the soldierly character than this last tribute of a devoted patriot to his beloved Brandenburg.306 THE GERMAN CLASSICS grief that these martial dramas were not permitted to sound their trumpet-call to a humbled nation yearning to be free. all the necessary elements are given place. Arminius is a great dramatized philippic. of Kleist maintain the same high Michael Kohlhaas is a good example of this excellent narrative art. ' ' : The narrative works The action develops logicconcisely in the first sentences. The descriptive element is realistic. to cast off the hateful . . level as his dramas. in Germans may stand together against the Prince Frederick of Homburg is a dramatic glorification of the Prussian virtues of discipline and obedience. a murderer. are animated by one common patriotic impulse. to forget the central theme." or situation. characterization is skilfully indirect. while the action moves on. rising far above their mutual rivalries. ally. The often in parentheses. but without disturbing episodes and the reader is never permitted . They are largely. each of these strong chiefs is ready in devoted self-denial to yield the primacy to the other. confessing the right of feeling as well as reason to direct the will. representing in Kleist 's intention the Austria and Prussia of his day. But the finely drawn characters of this play are by no means rigid martinets. . and oppressive yoke of Rome and after the decisive victory over Varus in the Teutoburg Forest. such as the formula for this story. for which Kleist found no models in German literature. given expressly on its first page His sense of justice made him a robber and There is no leisurely exposition of time. with only pertinent details swiftly presented. The ancient Germanic chiefs Marbod and Arminius. Unity is a striking characteristic the action can usually be summed up in a few words. genorder that all common foe. erously human. frankly. through unconscious The author does not shun the trivial action and speech.

nor does he fear the most He is scrupulously objective. its Two generations day. a patriot expending his genius with lavish unselfishness for the service of his country in her darkest days. Now that a full century has elapsed since his tragic death. is comment. passed before he began to come into his heritage of legitimate fame. he has also found few imitators. but never lax. and.HEINRICH VON KLEIST 307 or even the repulsive in detail. an age of expansive lyric expression. he is most chary of The sentence structure. he has been found worthy by posterity to stand as the most famous son of a faithful Prussian family of soldiers. A brave man struggling desperately against hopeless odds. as in the dramas. parts is firmly and finely Kleist has remained a solitary figure in German literature. his place is well assured among the greatest dramatic and narrative authors of Germany. Owing little to the dominant literary influences of his The whole work in all forged by a master workman. . often intricate. in tragic catastrophes.

nor was there one among his neighbors who had not enjoyed the benefit of his kindness or his justice. situated on Saxon territory. KING [OWARD the middle of the sixteenth century there lived on the banks of the river Havel a horse-dealer by the name of Michael Kohl- haas. he came upon a toll-bar which he had never found on this road before. In a village which still bears his name. Up to his thirtieth year man would have been considered the model of a good citizen. he owned a farmstead on which he quietly supported himself by plying his trade. rode abroad once with a string of young horses. the world would have had every reason to bless his memory if he had not carried to excess one virtue — his sense of justice. at the same time. the son of a school-master. Just in the midst of a heavy shower he halted with [308] . In short. one of the most terrible this extraordinary men of his day. all and was turning over in his mind how he would employ the profit that he hoped to make from them at the fairs part of it. well fed and glossy-coated. near a stately castle. He he would also spend part of it in the enjoyment of the While thus engaged he reached the Elbe. which made of him a robber and a murderer. as is the way with good managers. and present. one of the most upright and. he would use to gain future profits. The children with whom his wife presented him were brought up in the fear of God. but .HEINRICH VON KLEIST MICHAEL KOHLHAAS A (1808) Tale from an Old Chronicle TRANSLATED BY FRANCES H. and taught to be industrious and honest.

the glittering batgazed tlements of which looked out over the field. He had hardly passed under the toll-bar. finally came out of ' ' toll-gatherer. the castellan came up to him and. " My passport? " queried Kohlhaas. quick if this tree had remained standing in the forest it would have been better for me and for you. With this he gave him the money. Buttoning another waistcoat over his ample body. horse-dealer! window and come hurrying down to him. as he raised the toll-bar. The horse-dealer told him to open the gate. when a new voice cried out from the tower behind him. What new arrangement is this? " he when the after some ' ' asked. Yes. He once had a causeway built because a mare of mine had broken her leg out there on the road leading to the village. who soon after showed his surly face at the window. "An estimable who liked to watch people come and and helped along trade and traffic wherever he could. Somewhat disconcerted. but old gentleman he was." answered the gate keeper. and started to ride on. " Is the old " gentleman dead? " Died of apoplexy. 1 ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ! . go.MICHAEL KOHLHAAS his horses 309 and called to the toll-gate keeper. time. so far as he knew. however." " Is that so? " il the Squire's name is queried Kohlhaas." he added. answered the latter. " and now Wenzel? at the castle. Too bad !" rejoined Kohlhaas. " Stop " and he saw the castellan close a there. I wonder what he wants Kohlhaas asked himself. conferred by the sovereign upon Squire Wenzel " " Tronka. Well. ' ' "Hum! ' ' ' ' ! . demanded his passport. which was fluttering in the wind. " he Well. the house. unlocking Seignorial privilege the gate. old man. standing with his back to the storm. he replied that he had none. picking up the leading reins as the latter muttered and cursed the weather Quick. and with some trouble out the few groschen demanded by the gate keeper from got under his cloak. how much is it? asked. and halted with his horses.

perhaps he might accidentally happen to have one about him. He really did walk toward the castle. that he was well acquainted with all the official regulations which applied to his trade. if THE GERMAN CLASSICS some one would just describe to him what in the of goodness this was. and said that he would speak to Squire Tronka himself on the subject. window to look at them. . they all followed the suggestion of the Squire and flew down into the courtyard. since he had a long day's journey before him. The horse-dealer assured him that seventeen times in his life he had crossed the border without such a permit. After a moment 's reflection. got down from his horse. the two entered the castlehall. muttering something about niggardly money-grubbers.310 that. the horsedealer. eying him name askance. turned it over to a groom. The rain had ceased the castellan. and the servant gathered round them and all . that the ordinance concerning this matter had been only recently issued. measuring each other with their glances. . and a joke had caused them all to break into uproarious laughter just as Kohlhaas approached him to make his complaint. When they saw the glossy string. who was beginning to feel bitter. but no sooner had the latter broached his request concerning the horses. that this would probably prove to be only a mistake. not detain him here unnecessarily any longer. retorted that without an official permit no horsedealer was allowed to cross the border with horses. the castellan followed him. became silent. But the castellan answered that he was not going to slip through the eighteenth time. The Squire asked what he wanted the young nobles. and. and that he must either procure the passport here or go back to the place from which he had come. The castellan. the castellan would please consider the matter and. It happened that the Squire was sitting over his wine with some merry friends. than the whole group cried " and hurried over to the " Horses! Where are they? out. the steward. at sight of the stranger. and what a good thing it was to bleed them.

The Squire. you must get a passport. " Yes. which meant inquired the ruin of his whole trade. I bought those black horses six months ago for twenty-five gold gulden give me He . as they were short of horses. and prepared to go in. who eagerly desired the big bay stallion. and. another preferred a chestnut. a third patted the dappled horse with tawny spots and all were of the opinion that the horses were like deer. Whereupon Kohlhaas. as he went off. saying that the next time he came that way with his horses they might perhaps strike a bargain. and the Squire said that Kohlhaas would have to ride in search of the Round Table and King Arthur if he put such a high value on his horses. took leave of the Squire and. seizing the reins of his horse. moved by a vague presentiment." Two of the young noblemen who were standing beside the Squire declared quite audibly that the horses were probably worth that much. which he thought he could use on the farm. Kohlhaas turned around and of the Squire whether this statement.MICHAEL KOHLHAAS 311 scanned the horses. were raised in the country. One praised a bright bay with a white star on its forehead. At this moment the castellan stepped forth from the crowd and reminded him that he would not be allowed to leave without a passport. went so far as to ask its price. Kohlhaas. made every effort to sell them the horses. The Squire. were indeed correct. Speak to the . but the Squire said that while he might be willing to pay out money for the bay stallion he really should hardly care to do so for the pair of blacks. started to ride away. Kohlhaas noticed that the castellan and the steward were whispering together and casting significant glances at the black horses the while. and that no finer . But when the horse-dealer had named his price the young knights thought it too high. Kohlhaas answered cheerily that the horses were no better than the knights who were to ride them. and the steward urged him to buy a pair of black horses. answered with an embarrassed air. " said to the Squire. and invited the men to buy. thirty and you shall have them. Sir.

young knights. made up his mind to comply with the demand. Well ' ' ' ' ! said the Squire. that what he wanted to do was to sell the blacks . provided him with money." castellan. warned him to take good care of the horses until he came a back. turning around. The steward muttered in his beard that he might just as well leave the blacks themselves. facing ! Come " he added to the must at least leave behind some pledge as security that he would obtain the passport. where he purposed to go to the fair. started toward the door. about toward the Squire. He promised that when he went through Dresden he would take out the passport at the chancery. but as a gust of wind just then blew a torrent of rain and hail through the gate. who was holding the skirts of his doublet about him for warmth. and go your way. Kohlhaas asked how much security for the black horses in money or in articles of value he would be expected to leave. as he had known nothing whatever about this requirement. amazed at such a shameless demand. as the storm at that moment began to rage again and the wind blustered about his scrawny legs "let . in order to put an end to the matter. He groom in charge of them. told the Squire. this time. and with the rest of the string continued his journey to Leipzig. throw him back again over and with that he went off." Kohlhaas assured him that he had not the least intention of evading the ordinances which might be in force concerning the exportation of horses. into a stable left which the castellan pointed out to him. called out. said that Kohlhaas tellan. the wretch go. The Squire stopped again under the castle gate. as soon as he has taken out the passport he can come and get them again at any time. He unhitched the black horses and led them the toll-bar ' ' . since there really was no other way out of it. the Squire. Kohlhaas.312 THE GERMAN CLASSICS castellan about it. The casand. The horse-dealer. plan. " To be " that is the best said the ' ' sure. " If he won 't give up the horses. As he . who saw clearly that on this occasion he would have to yield to superior force. and begged to be allowed to go on.

although he did not quite see what purpose he could have had in view. Of the boy who informed him of this he inquired what in the world the groom had done. and who had taken care of the horses in the mean time to this the boy answered that he did not know. A few weeks later. On his arrival in Dresden. well-fed blacks. worn-out jades. and the horse-dealer smiled at the lean Squire's joke. made no comment upon it. to whom he showed the certificate. though. in one of the suburbs this being the of the city. And here he learned from the councilors. he owned a house and stable — headquarters from which he usually conducted his business at the smaller fairs around the country — he went immediately to the chancery. having sold to his satisfac- tion the string of horses he had with him. At Kohlhaas's request. How great. and whether he could now need only go down to the stable and get them. that indeed. to the horse-dealer's question as to have his horses back. the door of the stable in which the horses stood.MICHAEL KOHLHAAS 313 rode along he wondered. instead of his two glossy. and then opened to the horse-dealer. in half uncertainty. whose heart was already full of misgivings. he spied a pair of lean. replied that he — . some of whom he knew. The castellan. and with mane and hair matted in short. as his first instinct had already told him. the annoyed councilors gave him a written certificate of its baselessness. the story of the passport was only made up. with bones on which one could have hung things as if on pegs. whether after all such a law might not have been passed in Saxony for the protection of the newly started industry of horseraising. Kohlhaas learned with dismay that for alleged insolence his groom had been cudgeled and dismissed in disgrace a few days after being left behind at Tronka Castle. the together from lack of care and attention . Kohlhaas returned to Tronka Castle harboring no other resentment save that caused by the general misery of the world. But even while crossing the courtyard. where. was his astonishment when.

" What's the matter? " echoed Kohlhaas. as no other course lay open to him. was preparing to leave this den of . after he had watched him for ' ' He a while with jades an expression of defiance. they had been used a bit in the fields because there weren't draught animals enough. the exhausted nags with a switch. The castellan. appeared and asked what was the matter. was extremely indignant. which was as delicate as a gold-balance. he showed him that they did not move. thieves again with his horses when the castellan. Squire Tronka and ' ' " Who gave his people permission to use for in the fields the black horses that I left behind with work him? Do you call that humane ? and trying to rouse added. and. potbellied scoundrel into the mud and set his foot on his copper-colored face. but. preconcerted outrage but realizing that he was powerless he suppressed his rage. Kohlhaas cursed over the shameful. broke out. who was standing beside him. at the sight of whom the horses neighed and moved feebly. " Look at the ruffian! Ought not the churl to thank God that the are still alive? " He asked who would have been expected to take care of them when the groom had run away. and whether it were not just that the horses should have worked in the fields for their feed. answered that they had not suffered any harm. swallowing the abusive words and going over to the horses. He concluded by saying that Kohlhaas had better not make a rumpus or he call the dogs and with them would manage to restore order in the courtyard. attracted by the altercation.314 THE GERMAN CLASSICS ! very picture of utter misery in the animal kingdom Kohlhaas. And so. and asked what had hap- pened to his horses. He felt a strong desire to throw the good-for-nothing. and that they had had proper feed too. still wavered. he was not yet quite sure before the bar of his own conscience whether his adversary were really guilty of a crime. The boy. The horse-dealer's heart thumped against his doublet. he would . as it had been harvest time. But his sense of justice.

and Squire Wenzel Tronka. scornful laugh. those are not my horses. and wondering what could be done in the situation in which he found himself. and clogs. Hans. " he " " He brushed called. he gave the Squire a maliciously garbled account of the turmoil the horse-dealer was making because He said. on the one hand. wTho . called Bring " and strode into the house.MICHAEL KOHLHAAS silently 315 pondered the circumstances while arranging their manes. when suddenly the scene changed. " Your worship. and asked in a subdued voice for what fault the groom had been turned out of the castle. grooms. and. immediately began to speak. that the horse-dealer refused to recognize the horses as his own. dashed into the courtyard. with a his black horses had been used a little. returning from harehunting. The castellan. the dogs set up a murderous howl at the sight of the stranger. for the sake of his nags. let him leave them here. Those are not the horses which were worth thirty gold I want my well-fed. when asked what had happened. followed by a swarm of knights. sound horses back again gulden The Squire. Kohlhaas cried. just as he " reached the door with the young knights. wine! Kohlhaas said that he would rather call the knacker and have his horses thrown into the carrion pit than lead them ' ' ! ! . straightening the tangled manes of the black horses. be left out on the open high-road over night. and while. should. " If the d want to take the horses back. came to the castle. The castellan " Because the rascal was insolent in the courtreplied. on the other. whose face grew momentarily pale. Kohlhaas would have given the value of the horses if ' ' he could have had the groom at hand to compare his statement with that of this thick-lipped castellan. come! Come. yard because he opposed a necessary change of stables and demanded that the horses of two young noblemen. got down d scoundrel doesn't from his horse and said. Grunther! the dust off his breeches with his hand and. the knights sought to quiet them. He was still standing.

hearing at every stop of the outrages perpetrated daily upon travelers at Tronka Castle. and after repeated questions we heard a story that no one could understand. to hear first what the groom had to say. in order. Lisbeth answered. to his stable at Kohlhaasenbriick. He told us that — . and.316 THE GERMAN CLASSICS back. the head groom. an equally admirable feeling took deeper and deeper root the farther he rode. On the other hand. he was so battered that he couldn't even breathe freely. For in spite of the injuries he had suffered. yes. already familiar with the imperfect organization of the world. He was already galloping at full speed on the road to Dresden when. it was his duty world to make every effort to obtain for himself satisfaction for the injury suffered. The poor that Herse! Just think! Michael dearest fellow arrived here about a fortnight ago. at the thought of the groom and of the complaint which had been made against him at the castle. this instinct told him that if. he asked at once after Herse. the whole to the incident proved to be a preconcerted plot. most pitifully bruised and beaten. as seemed probable. where he kept coughing up blood. turned his horse around again and took the road toward Kohlhaasenbriick. declaring that he should know how to get his rights. he left them standing where they were. who were shouting joyfully about his knees. mounted his bay horse and rode away. inclined him to put up with the loss of the horses and to regard it as a just consequence of the groom 's misconduct in case there really could be imputed to the latter any such fault as the castellan charged. and. and whether anything " Oh had been heard from him. and for his fellow-countrymen a guarantee against similar injuries in the future. We put him to bed. as seemed to him wise and just. before he had gone a thousand paces farther. he slowed down to a walk. a correct instinct. in that condition. On his arrival at Kohlhaasenbriick. Without bothering himself further about the nags. really. as soon as he had embraced his faithful wife Lisbeth and had kissed his children.

incident is ' ' investigate that. " that it's all true and that this she ' ' ' ' self. Really " 11 1 suppose he has recovered before this? she Pretty well. Sir for a sulphur cord. went and fetched the groom. I am not very well as Lisbeth entered the room with him. " He's been going about in the yard again for several In short. words. you will see for yourshe answered. especially when confirmed by so many bruises." abed? " asked Kohlhaas." ' ' With him in here. however. these words he sat down in the arm-chair delighted at his calmness. groom at once to Tronka Castle so as to have the horses taken care of until you got back there for as Herse has always shown himself truthful and. that by the most shameful maltreatment he had been forced to leave the castle. and his wife. if he is up and about. to sacrifice a man's still "And is he life for them. the will of Providence I set fire to was carrying in my pocket so as to the robber's nest from which I had been driven. exclaimed Kohlhaas. He implored me. except that he still coughs blood. Lisbeth. quite merely another one of those outrages that have been committed of late against strangers at Tronka Castle. not to require any one to go to that robber's nest." On the groom's pale face spots of red appeared at these then he answered. He was silent for a while You are right there. " I must first answered Kohlhaas. but to give the animals up if I didn't wish ' ' ' ' ! ' ' ' ' ' ' . which by — 1 ' . or to think that perhaps he had lost the horses in some other way. indeed. more faithful to us than any other has ever been. taking off his neckcloth. ." asked Kohlhaas. taking off Ms cloak." continued. Call ' ' ' ' pleased with you.MICHAEL KOHLHAAS 317 you had left him at Tronka Castle in charge of some horses which they would not allow to pass through there. I felt I had no right to doubt his statement. " What did you do at Tronka Castle. " I wanted to send another answered. and that it had been impossible for him to bring the horses with him. days now.

turned around. when the castellan and the steward offered to give me free fodder if I would do it. "I wasn't disobliging save in my refusal to harness up the horses again when they had hardly eaten their fill at midday. looked down at the ground and said. as long as they looked so sulky about it. I wouldn't let the horses be worked to death in the fields. you really might have been obliging once or twice whenever they happened not to have horses enough to get the crops in as fast as they wished." said Kohlhaas." said Herse. " What is done. you driven from the castle? To this Herse answered. " But for what cause were " he asked. " cried the It was because of a Mercy. answered that he had not spring. as the horses had been in harness for a little while in the early part of the previous a sort of guest at the castle. that it wouldn't hurt the blacks for once. I answered that I would do something they didn't bargain for. then too. telling me to pocket the money that you had left with me to pay for feed. whose heart was thumping. and so I said that they were still young and had never been in harness. Sir." "I did so. no groom." Kohlhaas. it when down I will not ' ' ! Kohlhaas was disconcerted. " They told me nothing about that. however. But surely it was not for that disobliging act that you were driven away from the castle." Kohlhaas. " Something very wrong. " Let God's lightning burn I . and so on the third afternoon I hitched "As you were " Herse! " Herse assured him that it was so. Sir. told the exact truth." he continued. wicked crime! For the horses of two knights who very ' ' ' ' ' ' ! ." and wiped the perspiration from his forehead. trying to hide his perplexity. "I thought. and " left them! them in front of the others and brought in three wagonloads of grain from the fields. I threw into the Elbe castle. can't be undone.318 THE GERMAN CLASSICS heard a child crying inside the and I thought to myself.

day passed and they did not go. I said I would try to rent a stable in the village. you would have had the horses moved closer together. that it was such a poor shelter for horses that it was more like a pigsty than a stable? " " It was a " pigsty. it was not so bad. as it seemed to you when you first stuck your nose into it. I couldn't stand upright in it. the knights' horses had the right to better quarters." some weeks longer "After all. ' ' What did you ' ' said the gentlemen were going to stay at the castle. it wasn't so bad! I gave a groschen to the maid to have her put the pigs somewhere else and by taking the boards from the roof-bars at dawn ." answered Herse. I led the two horses into the pigsty." answered the groom. he showed me a pigsty built of laths and boards " You " mean. " That's "After I had true. And when I took the blacks from the castellan.MICHAEL KOHLHAAS 319 came to the castle were put into the stable for the night and mine were tied to the stable door. in the pigsty. seven knights lodging at the castle. ." a There wasn't much room. Sir." 1 ' against the castle wall. but the castellan objected that he had to keep the horses under his own eyes and told me not to dare to take them away from the courtyard. drop" his voice. really and truly a pigsty. swept the place out a little. there were. and asked where my animals were to go." interrupted Kohlhaas. and on the third it was ! < < Hum ' ' said Kohlhaas." say to that ? "As the steward said the two guests were only going to spend the night and continue on their way the next mornBut the following ing. " and of course. said ' ' Kohlhaas." Perhaps there was no other shelter to be found for the blacks. in a way. ping Counting these two. If it had been you. with the pigs running in and out. who was putting the knights' horses into my stable. in all. Herse." answered the groom." Kohlhaas rejoined.

and stuck their briick or ' . When I reached the castle-gate and was just about to turn. and started to ride them down to the horse-pond. I took the horses. vicious jerk he and the steward. I'll teach you. and possessed.320 THE GERMAN CLASSICS I and laying them on again at night. hurled me down from the horse so that I measured my full length in the mud. which had become dirty in spite of my efforts. rushing out of the servants hall after me and calling. since. they made faces at me. as long as I was there.' they picked a quarrel and threw me out of the courtyard. who had caught me by the leg. I'll tell ' ' " away? " "But what provoked them?" cried Kohlhaas. Everywhere. said Kohlhaas. when I asked him and the raving crowd that was running What's the at me. "they must have had some sort of provocation " " the best Oh. looking around for Kohlhaasensome other place where they would be better off. it managed to arrange so that the horses could stand upright in the daytime. to be sure. down to the horse-pond. dogs and cudgels. why in the world did they ' ' ' ' drive you " you. with servants. Do riding * and lightning! you think that I ' — — ' I am ? * To the horse-pond! to ' ' cried the castellan." answered Herse." answered the groom. seizing my two black ' ' ! ! ' ' ' ' ' — ' ' ! horses by the bridle. and seized me by the chest. Stop thief! Stop gallows-bird! as if they were The gate-keeper stepped in front of me. heads through the roof. and because I thought to myself. You can draw your jaws down until you dislocate them. they could not work the horses to death. imaginable On the evening of the second day spent in the pigsty. the highroad back to Kohlwith a spiteful. in the yard. haasenbriick! swim along And ." Sir. I heard the castellan and the steward. ' ' ' Thunder I going?' I repeated. for all I care. So there they stood like geese in a coop." Well then. What in the world is the matter? matter answered the castellan. Where are you going with the Where am horses? he asked. it was because they wanted to get rid of me. in the servants hall. you swindler.

I believe it word for word. and stretched something But when I had to give out three dogs dead beside me! way because I was suffering from fearful wounds and bites. Sick him. and when the matter comes up. pigsty. Caesar Sick you he called. and a Sick him. And when ' ! I cried. you would rather be in the " stable at Kohlhaasenbruck. pack from the fence. go back to bed. and a bundle of linen I left behind in the pigsty. ' The thieves! and got to my feet Out of the courtyard with screamed the castellan. Spitz him. Herse. the castellan and servants fell upon me with their feet and whips and cudgels. after all Od 's thunder cried Herse breast strap and blankets I tell you. Have them bring you a bottle of wine and make yourself comfortable you shall have justice Vol. What vou have said see here. Hunter and. possibly a picket. I am ' ' There. said with forced jocularity. so that I sank down behind ' the castle-gate half dead. the gates were swung shut and the bolt shot into position. looked down at the ground " You didn't like it in the " Confess to me! " said he. Wouldn't I have taken along three gold gulden that I had wrapped in a red silk neckcloth and hidden away behind the manger? When Blazes. white in the face. Go. there ' ' ' ' ! — sorry that you have not fared better in my service. " And as the " Didn't you really want to escape. I really meant no harm. Then I tore of more than twelve dogs rushed at me. I heard a shrill whistle. IV — 21 . . you thought to yourself.' But while the steward led the horses away. I am ready to take the Holy Communion myself as to its truth. Herse? latter. said the horse-dealer.MICHAEL KOHLHAAS 1 321 breast straps and blankets and a bundle of linen belonging to me are in the stable. I'd like to relight at once the sulphur cord I threw away! " ! ' ' ' ' ' ' — ! . and the devil! you talk like that. the dogs scurried into the yard. and I sank down on the highroad unconscious. ! Murder Help ' ! I cried ' . with a deep blush. hell." horses? ' — Where are they taking my ' ! ' ' ' ! ! Kohlhaas.

he drew up a complaint. Here. While looking about him in the capital. He had the satisfaction of finding that she heartily approved his purpose. made out a list of the which the head groom had left behind in the pigsty.322 ' ' ! THE GERMAN CLASSICS done you With that he stood up. would pass by the castle. His extensive trade in horses had secured him the acquaintance of the . spent day and the next very happily with her and the children. asked him how high he estimated the cost of his medical treatment. most important men of the country. Thereupon he recounted to Lisbeth. she said. The fact that the horses had been detained contrary to law threw a decisive light on everything else and even had one been willing to assume that they had sickened by sheer accident. the whole course of the affair. in which. who promised to give his case lively support. things jotted down the value of each. the demand of the horse-dealer to have them returned to him in sound condition would still have been just. as soon as his business would at all permit it. and sent him from the room after shaking hands with him once more. . and the honesty with which he conducted his business had won him their good will. either. perhaps less patient than he. set out for Dresden in order to lay his suit before the court. he petitioned for the lawful punishment of the former. after giving a detailed account of the outrage which Squire Wenzel Tronka had committed against him and against his groom Herse. his wife. for. explained the true relation of events. and compensation for the damages which he and his groom had sustained. restoration of the horses to their original condition. with the help of a lawyer whom he knew. and. and declared to her that he was determined to demand public justice for himself. many other travelers. Kohlhaas called her his brave wife. His case was indeed perfectly clear. Kohlhaas had no lack of friends. and it was doing God's work to disorders such as these to put a stop She added that she would manage that to get together the money to pay the expenses of the lawsuit.

who was himself


Kohlhaas dined cheerfully several times with his lawyer,
a man of consequence, left a sum of money with him to defray the costs of the lawsuit and, fully reassured by the latter as to the outcome of the case, returned, after the lapse of some weeks, to his wife Lisbeth in Kohl-


Nevertheless months passed, and the year was nearing before he received even a statement from Saxony concerning the suit which he had instituted there, let alone the final decree itself. After he had applied several times more to the court, he sent a confidential letter to his lawyer asking what was the cause of such undue delay. He was told in reply that the suit had been dismissed in the Dresden courts at the instance of an influential person. To the astonished reply of the horse-dealer asking what was the reason of this, the lawyer informed him that Squire Wenzel Tronka
its close


related to two

young noblemen, Hinz and Kunz Tronka,

one of

whom was

Cup-bearer to the person of the sovereign,

and the other actually Chamberlain. He also advised Kohlhaas not to make any further appeal to the court of law, but to try to regain possession of his horses which were still at Tronka Castle, giving him to understand that the Squire, who was then stopping in the capital, seemed to have ordered his people to deliver them to him. He closed with a request to excuse him from executing any further commissions in the matter, in case Kohlhaas refused to be
content with

At this time Kohlhaas happened to be in Brandenburg, where the City Governor, Heinrich von Geusau, to whose jurisdiction Kohlhaasenbriick belonged, was busy establishing several charitable institutions for the sick and the poor out of a considerable fund which had fallen to the city. He was especially interested in fitting up, for the benefit of invalids, a mineral spring which rose in one of the villages in the vicinity, and which was thought to have greater
powers than it subsequently proved to possess. As Kohlhaas had had numerous dealings with him at the time of

his sojourn at


Court and was therefore known to him, he allowed Herse, the head groom, who, ever since that unlucky day in Tronka Castle, had suffered pains in the chest when he breathed, to try the effect of the little healing spring, which had been inclosed and roofed over.
It so happened that the City Governor was just giving some directions, as he stood beside the depression in which Kohlhaas had placed Herse, when a messenger, whom the horse-dealer's wife had sent on after him, put in his hands the disheartening letter from his lawyer in Dresden. The

City Governor, who, while speaking with the doctor, noticed that Kohlhaas let a tear fall on the letter he had just read, approached him and, in a friendly, cordial way, asked

him what misfortune had befallen him. The horse-dealer handed him the letter without answering. The worthy Governor, knowing the abominable injustice done him at Tronka Castle as a result of which Herse was lying there before him sick, perhaps never to recover, clapped Kohlhaas on the shoulder and told him not to lose courage, for he would help him secure justice. In the evening, when the horse-dealer, acting upon his orders, came to the palace to see him, Kohlhaas was told that what he should do was to draw up a petition to the Elector of Brandenburg, with
a short account of the incident, to inclose the lawyer's letter, and, on account of the violence which had been committed against him on Saxon territory, solicit the protecpetition

He promised him to see that the would be delivered into the hands of the Elector together with another packet that was all ready to be distion of the sovereign.

patched if circumstances permitted, the latter would, without fail, approach the Elector of Saxony on his behalf. Such a step would be quite sufficient to secure Kohlhaas
justice at the hand of the tribunal at Dresden, in spite of the arts of the Squire and his partisans. Kohlhaas, much delighted, thanked the Governor very heartily for this new

proof of his good will, and said he was only sorry that he had not instituted proceedings at once in Berlin without



taking any steps in the matter at Dresden. After he had out the complaint in due form at the office of the municipal court and delivered it to the Governor, he returned to Kohlhaasenbriick, more encouraged than ever

about the outcome of his affair. After only a few weeks, however, he was grieved to learn from a magistrate who had gone to Potsdam on business for the City Governor, that the Elector had handed the petition over to his Chancellor, Count Kallheim, and that the latter, instead of taking the course most likely to produce results and petitioning the Court at Dresden directly
for investigation and punishment of the outrage, had, as a preliminary, applied to the Squire Tronka for further


The magistrate, who had stopped in his carriage outside of Kohlhaas' house and seemed to have been instructed to
message to the horse-dealer, could give the latno satisfactory answer to his perplexed question as to why this step had been taken. He was apparently in a hurry to continue his journey, and merely added that the Governor sent Kohlhaas word to be patient. Not until the very end of the short interview did the horse-dealer divine from some casual words he let fall, that Count Kallheim was related by marriage to the house of Tronka. Kohlhaas, who no longer took any pleasure either in his horse-breeding, or his house or his farm, scarcely even in his wife and children, waited all the next month, full of gloomy forebodings as to the future. And, just as he had
deliver this

expected at the expiration of this time, Herse, somewhat

by the baths, came back from Brandenburg bringing a rather lengthy decree and a letter from the City Governor. The latter ran as follows: He was sorry that he could do nothing in Kohlhaas' behalf; he was sending him a decision from the Chancery of State and he advised him to fetch away the horses that he had left behind at the Tronka Castle, and then to let the matter drop. The decree read as follows: "According to the report



of the tribunal at Dresden, he was a good-for-nothing, quarrelsome person; the Squire with whom he had left the

horses was not keeping them from him in any way let him send to the castle and take them away, or at least inform the Squire where to send them to him in any case he should not trouble the Chancery of the State with such petty quar" rels and mischief -making.

Kohlhaas, who was not concerned about the horses themhe would have felt just as much pain if it had been a question of a couple of dogs Kohlhaas foamed with when he received this letter. As often as he heard rage a noise in the courtyard he looked toward the gateway with the most revolting feelings of anticipation that had ever agitated his breast, to see whether the servants of the Squire had come to restore to him, perhaps even with an This was the apology, the starved and worn-out horses. only situation which he felt that his soul, well disciplined though it had been by the world, was not prepared to meet. short time after, however, he heard from an acquaintance who had traveled that road, that at Tronka Castle his horses were still being used for work in the fields exactly like the Squire's other horses. Through the midst of the pain caused by beholding the world in a state of such monstrous disorder, shot the inward satisfaction of knowing that from henceforth he would be at peace with himself.



invited a bailiff,

who was

his neighbor, to


to see

latter had long cherished the idea of enlarging by purchasing the property which adjoined it. "When he had seated himself Kohlhaas asked him how much he would give for his possessions on Brandenburg and Saxon territory, for house and farm, in a lump, immovable


his estate

or not.

grew pale when she heard his words. She turned around and picked up her youngest child who was playing on the floor behind her. While the child pulled
Lisbeth, his wife,
at her kerchief, she darted glances of mortal terror past little one's red cheeks, at the horse-dealer, and at a

paper which he held in his hand.



The bailiff stared at his neighbor in astonishment and asked him what had suddenly given him such strange ideas to which the horse-dealer, with as much gaiety as he could muster, replied that the idea of selling his farm on the banks of the Havel was not an entirely new one, but that they had often before discussed the subject together. As for his house in the outskirts of Dresden in comparison with the farm it was only a tag end and need not be taken into consideration. In short, if the bailiff would do as he wished and take over both pieces of property, he was ready to close the contract with him. He added with rather forced pleasantry that Kohlhaasenbriick was not the world that there might be objects in life compared with which that


home and family as a father is supwould be a secondary and unworthy one. In a posed word, he must tell him that his soul was intent upon accomplishing great things, of which, perhaps, he would hear The bailiff, reassured by these words, said jokshortly. to Kohlhaas' wife, who was kissing her child repeatingly " edly, Surely he will not insist upon being paid immeThen he laid his hat and cane, which he had diately been holding between his knees, on the table, and taking the paper, which the horse-dealer was holding in his hand,
of taking care of his
' ' !


to read.

Kohlhaas, moving closer to him, explained was a contingent contract to purchase, drawn up by


himself, his right to cancel the contract expiring in four He showed the bailiff that nothing was wanting but

the signatures, the insertion of the purchase-price itself, and the amount of the forfeit that he, Kohlhaas, would agree to


in case he should withdraw from the contract within the four weeks' time. Again Kohlhaas gaily urged his friend

make an offer, assuring him that he would be reasonable and would make the conditions easy for him. His wife was walking up and down the room she breathed so hard that the kerchief, at which the boy had been pulling, threatened

to fall clear off her shoulder. The bailiff said that he really had no way of judging the value of the property in Dres-



den whereupon Kohlkaas, shoving toward him some letters which had been exchanged at the time of its purchase, answered that he estimated it at one hundred gold gulden, although the letters would show that it had cost him almost half as much again. The bailiff who, on reading the deed of sale, found that, strangely enough, he too was guaranteed
the privilege of withdrawing from the bargain, had already half made up his mind but he said that, of course, he could

make no use

of the stud-horses which were in the stables.

replied that he wasn't at all inclined to part with the horses either, and that he also desired to keep for himself some weapons which were hanging in the

When Kohlhaas

armory, the bailiff still continued to hesitate for some time. At last he repeated an offer that, once before, when they were out walking together, he had made him, half in jest and half in earnest a trifling offer indeed, in comparison with the value of the property. Kohlhaas pushed the pen and ink over for him to sign, and when the bailiff, who could not believe his senses, again inquired if he were really in


and the horse-dealer asked, a



whether he thought that he was only jesting with him, then took up the pen, though with a very serious face, and wrote. However, he crossed out the clause concerning the sum to
be forfeited in case the seller should repent of the transaction, bound himself to a loan of one hundred gold gulden on a mortgage on the Dresden property, which he absolutely refused to buy outright, and allowed Kohlhaas full liberty to withdraw from the transaction at any time within

two months.

The horse-dealer, touched by this conduct, shook his hand with great cordiality, and after they had furthermore agreed on the principal conditions, to the effect that a fourth part of the purchase-price should without fail be paid immediately in cash, and the balance paid into the
in three months' time, Kohlhaas called for wine in order to celebrate such a happy conclusion of the He told the maid-servant who entered with the bargain.

Hamburg bank

bottles, to


order Sternbald, the groom, to saddle the chestnut horse for him, as he had to ride to the capital, where he had some business to attend to. He gave them to understand that, in a short time, when he returned, he would talk more frankly concerning what he must for the present conAs he poured out the wine into tinue to keep to himself. the glasses, he asked about the Poles and the Turks who were just then at war, and involved the bailiff in many

conjectures on the subject; then, after finally drinking once more to the success of their business, he allowed the latter to depart. When the bailiff had left the room, Lisbeth fell down on
' '

If you have any affection " and for the children whom I have for me," she cried, borne you if you have not already, for what reason I know not, cast us out from your heart, then tell me what these

her knees before her husband.


Kohlhaas answered, " Dearest wife, they mean nothing which need cause you any alarm, as matters stand at presI have received a decree in which I am told that my ent. complaint against the Squire Wenzel Tronka is a piece of impertinent mischief-making. As there must exist some misunderstanding in this matter, I have made up my mind
present my complaint once more, this time in person, to the sovereign himself." she cried, rising But why will you sell your house 1 with a look of despair. The horse-dealer, clasping her tenderly to his breast, Because, dear Lisbeth, I do not care to remain answered, in a country where they will not protect me in my rights. If I am to be kicked I would rather be a dog than a man ! " I am sure that my wife thinks about this just as I do. How do you know, she asked wildly, that they will not protect you in your rights? If, as is becoming, you the Elector humbly with your petition, how do approach you know that it will be thrown aside or answered by a
' ' ' ' ' '
' '

horrible preparations


' '


' '

' '

refusal to listen to you?


' '

' ' !

answered Kohlhaas " if my fears on the subject are unfounded, my house isn't sold yet, either. The Elector himself is just, I know, and if I can only succeed in getting past those who surround him and in reaching his person, I do not doubt that I shall secure justice, and that, before the week is out, I shall return joyfully home again In that case I would gladly stay to you and my old trade. until the end of my life with you, he added, kissing her, But it is advisable, he continued, " to be prepared for any ejnergency, and for that reason I should like you, if it is
' ' ' '
! ' '

possible, to go away for a while with the children to aunt in Schwerin, whom, moreover, you have, for

your some

time, been intending to visit What ' ' cried the housewife

' '

' '

' ' ;



am to go to Schwerin —

go across the frontier with the children to my aunt in Schwerin! " Terror choked her words. " " and, if possible, Certainly," answered Kohlhaas, so that I may not be hindered by any family right away,

considerations in the steps I intend to take in my suit. You now need she cried. Oh, I understand you
1 ' ' ' ' ' !

' '

nothing but weapons and horses; whoever will may take " With this she turned away and, in tears, everything else flung herself down on a chair. Kohlhaas exclaimed in alarm, " Dearest Lisbeth, what are you doing ? God has blessed me with wife and children and worldly goods; am I today for the first time to wish " He sat down that it were otherwise? gently beside his who at these words had flushed up and fallen on Ins wife,


' '



' '

her forehead.


said he, smoothing the curls away from What shall I do? Shall I give up my

Do you wish me

back home? " She Lisbeth did not dare to cry out, Yes, yes, yes shook her head, weeping, and, clasping him close, kissed
i l ' ' !

knight to restore the horses to

go to Tronka Castle, beg the me, mount and ride them

him passionately.
1 '
' '

Well, then,

cried Kohlhaas,

' '



feel that, in case




to continue

deny me


my trade, justice must be done me, do not the liberty which I must have in order to pro-

With that he stood up and said to the groom who had come to tell him that the chestnut horse was saddled, " Tomorrow the bay horses must be harnessed up to take my wife to Schwerin." Lisbeth said that she had an idea! She rose, wiped the tears from her eyes, and, going over to the desk where he had seated himself, asked him if he would give her the petition and let her go to Berlin in his For more reasons than stead and hand it to the Elector. one Kohlhaas was deeply moved by this change of attitude. He drew her down on his lap, and said, Dearest wife, that is hardly practicable. The sovereign is surrounded by a great many people; whoever wishes to approach him is
' '

exposed to

many annoyances."

Lisbeth rejoined that, in a thousand cases, it was easier for a woman to approach him than it was for a man. Give me the petition, she repeated, and if all that you wish is the assurance that it shall reach his hands, 1 vouch for it he shall receive it
' ' ' ' ' '




Kohlhaas, who had had many proofs of her courage as well as of her wisdom, asked her how she intended to go about it. To this she answered, looking shamefacedly at
the ground, that the castellan of the Elector's palace had paid court to her in former days, when he had been in
service in Schwerin that, to be sure, he was married now and had several children, but that she was not yet entirely forgotten, and, in short, her husband should leave it to

her to take advantage of this circumstance as well as of many others which it would require too much time to enumerate. Kohlhaas kissed her joyfully, said that he her proposal, and informed her that for her to accepted lodge with the wife of the castellan would be all that was necessary to enable her to approach the sovereign inside the palace itself. Then he gave her the petition, had the horses harnessed, and sent her off, well bundled up, bay

accompanied by Sternbald, his faithful groom.



all the unsuccessful steps, however, which he had in regard to his suit, this journey was the most unfortaken For only a few days later Sternbald entered the tunate.


courtyard again, leading the horses at a walk before the wagon, in which lay his wife, stretched out, with a dangerous contusion of the chest. Kohlhaas, who approached the wagon with a white face, could learn nothing coherent concerning the cause of the accident. The castellan, the groom said, had not been at home they had therefore been obliged Lisbeth to put up at an inn that stood near the palace.

left this inn on the following morning, ordering the servant to stay behind with the horses; not until evening had she returned, and then only in this condition. It seemed she had pressed forward too boldly toward the person of the sovereign, and without any fault of his, but merely through the rough zeal of a body-guard which surrounded him, she had received a blow on the chest with the shaft of


a lance.

the people said who, toward evening, had brought her back unconscious to the inn for she herself could talk but little for the blood which flowed

At least this was what

had been taken from her afterward by a knight. Sternbald said that it had been his wish to jump on a horse at once and bring the news of

from her mouth.



the unfortunate accident to his master, but, in spite of the remonstrances of the surgeon who had been called in, she

had insisted on being taken back to her husband at Kohlhaasenbriick without previously sending him word. She was completely exhausted by the journey and Kohlhaas put her to bed, where she lived a few days longer, struggling
painfully to




tried in vain to restore her to consciousness in order

to learn the particulars of

what had occurred she lay with fixed, already glassy eyes, and gave no answer. Once only, shortly before her death, did she recover conA minister of the Lutheran church (which sciousness. then in its infancy, she had embraced, following religion, the example of her husband) was standing beside her bed,



reading in a loud solemn voice, full of emotion, a chapter of the Bible, when she suddenly looked up at him with a stern expression, and, taking the Bible out of his hand, as though there were no need to read to her from it, turned over the leaves for some time and seemed to be searching for some special passage. At last, with her fore-finger she pointed out to Kohlhaas, who was sitting beside her bed, " the verse: Forgive your enemies; do good to them that hate you," As she did so she pressed his hand with a look full of deep and tender feeling, and passed away. Kohlhaas thought, " May God never forgive me the way Then he kissed her amid freely I forgive the Squire! " flowing tears, closed her eyes, and left the chamber. He took the hundred gold gulden which the bailiff had already sent him for the stables in Dresden, and ordered a funeral ceremony that seemed more suitable for a princess an oaken coffin heavily trimmed with metal, than for her cushions of silk with gold and silver tassels, and a grave eight yards deep lined with stones and mortar. He himself stood beside the vault with his youngest child in his arms On the day of the funeral the and watched the work. white as snow, was placed in a room which he had corpse, had draped with black cloth. The minister had just completed a touching address by

when the sovereign's answer to the which the dead woman had presented was delivered petition to Kohlhaas. By this decree he was ordered to fetch the horses from Tronka Castle and, under pain of imprisonment, not to bring any further action in the matter. Kohlhaas put the letter in his pocket and had the coffin carried
the side of the bier

out to the hearse. As soon as the mound had been raised, the cross planted on it, and the guests who had been present at the interment

had taken their departure, Kohlhaas flung himself down once more before his wife's empty bed, and then set about
the business of revenge. He sat down and made out a decree in which,

by virtue of

After this Kohlhaas sold the house. with this little troop he rode down the toll-gatherer and the gate-keeper who were standing in conversation in the arched gateway. Kohlhaas called Herse and informed him of what he had ordered the Squire to do in regard to fattening them. half dressed. he was going to have a thong with ten knots he cried that ! — as plaited in order to teach the Squire how to curry-comb. Kohlhaas at the same time . packed the children into a wagon. As the three days went by without the horses being returned. seven in number. in case he should be remiss in carrying out the conditions of the decree. he condemned the Squire Wenzel within the space of three days after sight to lead Tronka back to Kohlhaasenbruck the two black horses which he had taken from him and over-worked in the fields. fetch the Squire and. They set fire to all the outbuildings in the castle inclosure. whether Herse would be willing to apply the whip to the young gentleman after he had been brought to the stables at Kohlhaasenbruck. and sent them over the border. secondly. and every one of them true as gold to him. At night-fall of the third day. When darkness fell he called the other servants together. and. ' ' ' ' As soon Herse understood what was meant he shouted joyfully Sir. while. amid the outburst of the flames. This decree he sent off to the Squire by a mounted messenger. and attacked the castle. armed them and provided them with mounts and set out for the Tronka Castle. this very day and.334 his THE GERMAN CLASSICS own innate authority. throwing his hat into the air. whether he would . over the cards. and with blows and stabs fell upon the castellan and the steward who were sitting. Then he asked Herse two questions ride with him to Tronka Castle and : first. and with his own hands to feed the horses in Kohlhaas stables ' until they were fat again. and instructed the latter to return to Kohlhaasenbruck as soon as he had delivered the document. Herse hurried up the winding staircase into the tower of the castellan's quarters.

turning suddenly pale as death. He knocked over altars and . with their wives and children. in order to place guards at the exits. to the accompaniment of immoderate laughter. As Kohlhaas entered the room he seized by the shoulders . after search- ing in every direction throughout the rambling building and finding no one. While the other who had drawn powered and scattered by the Squire Wenzel Tronka was. save yourselves!" and disappeared. the gouty old housekeeper who managed the Squire's establishment threw herself at his feet. and flung into the corner of the room with such force that his floor. Kohlhaas asked where Realizing the ignorance of the stunned men. he cried out»to the gentlemen " Brothers. from the castle and the wings. brains spurted out over the stone knights. — him a certain Squire. In the meantime. he went down. were flung down into the courtyard amid the joyful shouts of Herse. he asked her where the Squire Wenzel Tronka was. As Kohlhaas descended the steps of the castle. which had caught fire from the out -buildings. While Sternbald and three busy grooms were gathering together everything in the castle that was not fastened securely and throwing it down among the horses as fair spoils. their weapons. Pausing on the step. he had the door broken open with crowbars and axes. thick columns of smoke were rising heavenward. were being overthe grooms. was just reading aloud to a crowd of young friends the decree which the horse-dealer had sent to him. who came at him. from the open windows of the castellan's quarters the corpses of the castellan and the steward. since they had no keys. who. Kohlhaas then called two men with torches. he kicked open the doors of two apartments leading into the wings of the castle and. Hans Tronka. cursing. into the castle yard. Thus that the angel of judgment descends from heaven the Squire. and. She answered in a faint voice that she thought he had taken refuge in trembling the chapel.MICHAEL KOHLHAAS it is 335 dashed into the castle in search of the Squire Wenzel. had no sooner heard the sound of his voice in the courtyard than.

no one was left in it but Kohlhaas and his seven men. Kohlhaas. what he was to do with the animals now. and. When the morning dawned the entire castle had burned down and only the walls remained standing. had it landed. . and. sticking the key in the stable-door. Kohlhaas tore the key violently from the stable-door. He dismounted from his horse and. threw it over the wall. pews nevertheless. silently awaited the break of day. amid the horrible laughter of the bystanders. he asked the horse-dealer. would have meant death then. The latter. one of the retainers of the castle.336 THE GERMAN CLASSICS . that the expedition against the castle had failed. while his men continued their work of destruction. to his anger and grief. who several times turned his back on him. he did not find It happened that. once more searched the inclosure. who at that very moment spied his two blacks in a little shed roofed with straw. came hurrying upon his way to get the Squire 's chargers out of a large stone stable which was threatened by the flames. pale with fright. at the moment when Kohlhaas came out of the chapel. When he had to admit. answered that he surely must see that the shed was already in flames. hard though it was for him to do so. drove him into the burning shed and. Kohlhaas suddenly raised his foot with such terrible force that the kick. only a few moments before the shed fell in behind him. without answering. the Squire. Nevertheless. he mounted his bay horse. when the man. he no longer found Kohlhaas. forced him to rescue the black horses. raining blows as thick as hail on the man with the flat of his sword. reappeared with the horses. Betaking himself to the men gathered in the castle inclosure. a young servant. in the bright sunlight which illuminated every crack and corner. asked the man why he did not rescue the two blacks. stationed himself under the gateway of the castle. with a heart full of pain and grief he sent Herse and some of the other men to gather news of the direction in which the .

instead. Toward midday Herse came and confirmed what Kohlhaas' heart. taught them how to mount behind the men on horseback. to sur- render him under penalty of death and the inevitable burning down of everything that might be called property. wished to enter the horse-dealer's serv. which was nunnery situated on the shores of the Mulde. An- tonia Tronka. and after he had turned into money everything that the company had collected and had distributed it among them. The unhappy Kohlhaas was it only too probable that the Squire. that the forebodings. manner of foot-soldiers. furthermore. Kohlhaas ascended the tower of the castellan's quarters in the interior of which there was still a habitable " Kohlhaas manroom. was celebrated in the neighborhood as a pious. against whom he was waging ' ' just warfare. stripped as he of all necessities. and saintly woman. This declaration he scattered broadcast in the surrounding country through travelers and strangers he even went so far as to give Waldmann. and whose abbess.MICHAEL KOHLHAAS Squire had 337 fled. since the abbess was his o. with definite instructions to carry it to Erlabrunn and place it in the hands of Lady Antonia. relatives and friends not excepted. his servant. Erlabrunn by name. which was always filled with the most gloomy namely. He felt especially troubled about a rich for ladies of rank. had taken refuge in this nunnery. IV — 22 .wn aunt and had been his govern- thought ess in his early childhood. charitable. had already told him Squire was then in the nunnery of Erlabrunn with the old — Vol. Thereupon he had a talk with some of the servants of Tronka Castle who were dissatisfied with the Squire and. and. ice. resting after his sorry labor. After informing himself of these particulars. a copy of it. commanded every inhabitant. and there he drew up a so-called in which he warned the country not to offer assistdate ance to Squire Wenzel Tronka. attracted by the prospect of plunder. with cross-bows and daggers. he spent some hours in the gateafter the He armed them way of the castle.

wheeled his Set fire to the buildings horse and was about to cry. in a shaking voice. Amid the rumbling of a distant storm on the horizon. while Kohlhaas asked the abbess where Squire Wenzel Tronka was. came forward to announce that the mandate had been duly delivered. seemed that. he asked whether had been fed. was having his armor put on and. white as a sheet. At least. and in three hours' time he was the horses at the gates of Erlabrunn. engaged in agi- man While the chapter-warden. with all her nuns. Herse and Sternbald overpowered the chapter-warden. his servant. and do no wrong! into the hell of unsatisfied thirst for revenge. through a door in the rear wall behind the castle. She unfastened from her In Wittenberg. leading into the open air. ' ' ' ' ! — ' ' ' ' ! . ran down to a few boats on the Elbe. descended the sloping driveway and. a little old with snow-white hair. the abbess. Just as Waldmann. and led him off as a prisoner among the horses. protected by a little roof. and answered. who had no sword in his hand. plunged back God. flung herself down before Kohlhaas' horse. in a bold voice. Kohlhaas saw the abbess and the chapter-warden step out under the portal of the nunnery. and holding the silver image of the Crucified One in her hand. Kohlhaas sighed deeply at this news. called to the men-servants surrounding him to ring the storm-bell. man adding. girdle a large ring of keys. It Lady Antonia Tronka. and when they answered " Yes. shooting furious glances at Kohlhaas. Kohlhaas. he and his troop entered the courtyard of the convent with torches which they had lighted before reaching the spot. to the great astonishment of the inhabitants who were assembled on account of the fire at Tronka Castle and that he had gone on toward Erlabrunn in a village cart.338 THE GERMAN CLASSICS his aunt. Herse reported that at midnight the Squire in a skiff without rudder or oars had arrived at a village on the Elbe. worthy " " Fear Kohlhaas. he had escaped down a narrow stone stairway which." he had his men mount. tated conversation.

had prevented his arriving until a few moments ago. A sudden. calling ." as he expressed it. sweeping across the pavement of the courtyard and extinguishing the torches. scarcely audible voice ago!" "When?" "Two hours after the Squire. nevertheless. As he clearly saw that with a troop of ten men (for his company numbered that many now) he * ' . in which. The lady answered " Just a few moments in a weak. procured him a crowd of recruits from among the rabble. and had to rest here for a day because the horses were so exhausted. the groom. to whom he solemnly promised bounty-money and other perquisites of war. Follow me. subject only " an example of morbid and misplaced fanatito God cism which. dug in his spurs. he had thirty-odd men when he crossed back to the right side of the Elbe. my nephew. tering his horse — ' ' ! rible downpour of rain. swollen by the rain. he drew up a second mandate." In another mandate which " a free appeared shortly after this he called himself gentleman of the Empire and of the World. with the sound of his money and the prospect of plunder. saying that the waters of the Mulde. and left the nunnery. to whom Kohlhaas help turned with a lowering glance. my brothers the Squire is in Wittenberg. stammered out a confirmation of this fact. relaxed the tension of the unhappy man 's grief doffing his hat curtly to the abbess. to take up his quarrel against Squire Tronka as the common enemy of all Christians. after a short account of what had " every good happened to him in the land. had taken his departure. The night having set in. In fact. whom the peace with Poland had deprived of a livelihood. as truly as God is my When Waldmann. bent — upon reducing Wittenberg to ashes. ' ' could not defy a place like Wittenberg. 339 Turnaround again toward the abbess he asked her whether she had received his mandate.MICHAEL KOHLHAAS when a terrific thunder-bolt struck close beside him. . he wheeled his horse. Kohlhaas came to his senses. he stopped at an inn on the highroad. he summoned " Christian.

For the captain separated his men into several divisions. than He encamped he set out with his troop on the eve of Whitsuntide. as it was fortunately a rather calm summer night. and if the Squire were not bum down ' ' that.340 THE GERMAN CLASSICS with horses and men in an old tumble-down brick-kiln. At the same time. instead of subduing Kohlhaas. however. who had lost some of his men in these fights. bore himself so badly. brought him word that it was already known there. while his men were plundering the suburbs. though. and his murderous measures were so well taken that once more a number of houses and almost all the barns in the suburbs were burned down. the city so completely " he would not need to look The terror of the citizens at such an unheard-of outrage was indescribable. with the intention of surrounding and crushing Kohlhaas. the flames had not destroyed more than nineteen buildings. remained in the field against him. behind any wall to find him. Toward daybreak. not a single man of the whole company in which the hopes of the country were centred. the aged Governor of the province. rather helped him to a most dangerous military reputation. in the solitude of a dense forest which surrounded the town at that time." as he expressed it. Kohl' ' haas. No sooner had Sternbald. he fastened a paper to the door-post of a church to the effect that he. holding his troop together. among which. Gerstenberg by name. however. as soon as the fire had been partially extinguished. he set the town on fire at several points simultaneously. but the latter. and while the citizens lay sound asleep. The captain in command of the company. that the whole expedition. again set fire to the city on the morning of the next day. whom he had sent in disguise into the city with the mandate. so that by the evening of the following day. Kohlhaas. had set the city on delivered to him he would fire. At the same time he again posted the well-known . attacked and beat him at isolated points. sent out immediately a company of fifty men to capture the bloodthirsty madman. was a church. Otto von Gorgas.

furthermore. highly incensed at this defiance. returned by forced marches when informed of what had happened. who were present in their official dress . placed himself with several knights at the head of a troop of one hundred and fifty men. several convents and schools. he himself set out on Saint Gervaise 's day to capture the dragon who was devastating the land. on the corners of the city hall itself. The people were massed by thousands around the Squire's house. By skilfully executed marches he enticed the Governor five leagues away from the city. and by means of various manoeuvres he gave the other the mistaken notion that. he made a forced ride back to Wittenberg. and found the city in a general uproar. who flatly insisted that he must be removed from the city. Jenkens and Otto by name. The horse-dealer was clever enough to keep out of the way of this troop. two churches. and for the third time set fire to the city. carried out this horrible feat of daring. Herse. he was going to throw himThen. At a written request The Governor he gave Squire Wenzel Tronka a guard to protect him from the violence of the people. who crept into the self into Brandenburg. The Governor who. of the province. and the very residence of the electoral governor of the province were reduced to ruins and ashes.MICHAEL KOHLHAAS 341 mandate. and also had sentinels stationed on the city walls to prevent a surprise. Two burgomasters. town in disguise. and he added a notice concerning the fate of Captain von Gerstenberg who had been sent against him by the Governor. and whom he had overwhelmingly defeated. and with wild cries they demanded his expulsion from the city. when the third night closed in. this time. After the Governor had had guards placed in all the villages in the vicinity. which was barricaded with heavy timbers and posts. when the day broke. and because of a sharp north wind that was blowing. believed his adversary to be in Brandenburg. hard pressed by superior numbers. the fire proved so destructive and spread so rapidly that in less than three hours forty-two houses.

accompanied by some knights. He dismounted from his horse and. these reassuring circumstances he succeeded By in allaying the fears of the assembled crowd and in partially reconciling them to the presence of the Squire until the return of the courier from Dresden. he made a clever speech to the city councilors. As Sir Otto von Gorgas realized that this was not the moment to exchange any words with him on the subject of the behavior of which he had been guilty. cared nothing for these words. in the own safety. with chest half bare on account of the . While the prisoners were being loaded with chains before the eyes of the people. right in front of the gates of the city. tried in vain to explain must await the return of a courier who had been dispatched to the President of the Chancery of State for permission to send the Squire to Dresden. armed with pikes and staves. for many reasons. After handling rather roughly some councilors who were insisting upon the adoption of vigorous measures. who was wont by his troopers. the mob was about to storm the house where the Squire was and level it to the ground. He found another. he merely told him. that they absolutely mere presence to inspire people to respectful obedience. succeeded in taking prisoner three stray members of the incendiary's band. to dress himself. when the Governor. for his the Squire. entered the house after the posts and stockades had been cleared away. Otto von Gorgas. and. him to the apartments of the knight's They put a doublet and a helmet on the Squire difficulty and when. wished to go. with a look of quiet contempt.342 at the THE GERMAN CLASSICS head of the entire city council. who with essences and stimulants were trying to restore him to consciousness. assuring them that he was on Kohlhaas' track and thought that he would soon be able force of all to bring the incendiary himself in chains. who was falling from one faint into hands of two doctors. dition from which he was returning. as though in compensation for the failure of the expehad. The unreasoning crowd. whither he himself. appeared in the city at the head of his This worthy gentleman. to follow prison.

After reflecting a short time. and the ruin of Saxony. clearly that a decree of this kind was wholly inadequate to pacify the people. in the course of which the Squire's helmet fell off several times without his missing it and had to be replaced on his head by the who was behind him. For not only had several small advantages gained by the horse-dealer in The Governor saw skirmishes outside the city sufficed to spread extremely disquieting rumors as to the size to which his band had grown his way of waging warfare with ruffians in disguise who slunk about under cover of darkness with pitch. . unheard of and quite without precedent as it was. the curse of the After a city of Wittenberg. the Gov : . refused to permit the Squire to sojourn in the electoral capital before the incendiary had been captured. Meanwhile the return of the courier with the decree of the Elector had aroused fresh alarm in the city. The mob. but in order to pacify the good city of Wittenberg. a miserable public pest and a tormentor of men. and sulphur. The Governor was instructed rather to use all the power at his command to protect the Squire just where he was. would have rendered ineffectual an even larger protecting force than the one which was advancing under the Prince of Meissen. he appeared in the street on the of the 343 arm Governor and his brother-in-law. since he had to stay somewhere. straw. wretched march through the devastated city. the inhabitants were informed that a force of five hundred men under the command of Prince Friedrich of Meissen was already on the way to protect them from further molestation on the part of Kohlhaas. called him a bloodsucker. For the Saxon government.MICHAEL KOHLHAAS he had in breathing. to which the citizens of Dresden had made direct application in an knight urgent petition. blasphemous and horrible curses against him rose to heaven. the Count of Gerschau. they reached the prison at where he disappeared into a tower under the proteclast. tion of a strong guard. whom the lansquenets found it very difficult to restrain.

to lose Herse. In this fight. thanks to the strange position which he had assumed in the world. had numbers of his band to one hundred and nine men. At daybreak a covered wagon left the courtyard of the knight's prison and took the road to Leipzig. announcing his arrival. made foolhardy by this victory. panied by four heavily armed troopers who. who had thrown himself into the churchyard at . In the mean time Kohlhaas. Indeed. When informed of the two tempests that were sweeping down upon him. turned back to attack the Governor before the latter could learn of it. Governor. to be sure. in an indefinite sort of way. fell upon h\m at midday in the open countiy near the with village of Damerow. let it be understood that they were bound for the Pleissenburg. that at break of day the latter was obliged to take the road back to Dresden. and he had also collected in Jessen a store of weapons with which he had fully armed them. who was unable to collect his forces in the town. whose existence seemed identified with fire and sword. but with corresponding sucmurderous losses. in a three-hour battle he so roughly handled the Prince of Meissen. who was struck down at his side by the first shots but.344 THE GERMAN CLASSICS ernor determined therefore to suppress altogether the decree he had received he merely posted at all the street corners a letter from the Prince of Meissen. surprising him near Miihlberg. he decided to go to meet them with the in truth increased the speed of the hurricane before they should join to overIn accordance with this plan he attacked the Prince of Meissen the very next night. The people having thus been satisfied on the subject of the ill-starred Squire. the next morning he would certainly with the remnant of his band have renewed the attack on the thrown. the Governor himself set out with a force of three hundred men to join Prince Friedrich of Meissen. and fought him until nightfall. embittered by this loss. accom. cess. he was greatly grieved whelm him. owing to several severe wounds which he had received and the complete disorder into which his troops had been Kohlhaas. to be sure.

and his erroneous impression that the Squire was in Leipzig." At the same himself in time. punishment by fire and sword for the villainy into which the whole world was plunged. if the latter had not received through spies the news of the defeat of the Prince at Miihlberg and therefore deemed it wiser to return to Wittenberg to await a more propitious moment. insisted that he was in the Pleissenburg and declared that if the Squire were not there. in similar manifestos. with the positive assurance that the Squire was not in the Pleissenburg. owing to a steady rain which was falling.MICHAEL KOHLHAAS 345 Damerow. caused unspeakable consternation in the city. ' ' " Done at the seat of our provisional world government. thanks to the rapid action of the at hand for extinguishing fires. scattered broadcast on this occasion he called himself " a vicegerent of the archangel Michael who had come to visit upon all who. should take the part of the Squire. When a troop of one hundred and eighty men at arms that had been sent against him returned defeated. Kohlhaas. he. With a sort of insane fanaticism the mandate was signed: Liitzen. who did not wish to jeopardize the wealth of the place. the fire. nevertheless the presence of the desperate incendiary. Five days after the dispersion of these two bodies of troops. As means did not spread. so that. In vain the city council had declarations posted in the villages of the surrounding country. our ancient castle at the good fortune of the inhabitants of Leipzig would have it. would at any rate proceed as though he . only a few small which lay around the Pleissenburg went up in flames shops . but to bar the gates completely and set the citizens to keep watch day and night outside the walls. The horse-dealer. he summoned the people to join him and help establish a better order of things. nothing else remained for the city councilors. in this controversy. Kohlhaas arrived before Leipzig and set fire to the In the mandate which he city on three different sides. having surprised the castle at Liitzen and fortified it.

supported by the authority which his position in the world gave him. when it was learned there that in all the villages near Leipzig a declaration addressed to Kohlhaas had been placarded. Nor can any one describe the confusion which seized all Saxony. notified by courier of the straits to which the city of Leipzig was reduced. sinner. who misleadest men with this declaration full of untruthfulness and therewith in guile. presumptuous man.towns of the Electorate a placard haas. Thou. the Squire. and especially the electoral capital. to satisfy God — — that future day which shall shine into the recesses of every heart? How denied thee — thou. no one knew by whom. The Elector. Building upon an element of good in the breast of the incendiary. has denied thee thy rights thy rights in the struggle thou arisest. undertook the task of forcing Kohlthe effect that ' ' by the power of kindly words. and like a wolf of the wilderness dost burst upon the peaceful community which he protects." It was under these circumstances that Doctor Martin Luther. declared that he was already gathering a force of two thousand men and would put himself at their head in order to capture Kohlhaas. art making bold to attempt in the madness of thy stonethou who art filled from head to foot with blind passion injustice? Because the sovereign. back within the limits set by the social order of the day. what is it that thou. addressed to him. thou who claimest to be sent to wield the : sword of justice. with fire and for a paltry trifle sword. which read as follows " Kohlhaas. he had posted in all the cities and market. to Wenzel. dost thou think. He administered to Sir Otto von Gorgas a severe rebuke for the misleading and illconsidered artifice to which he had resorted to rid the vicinity of Wittenberg of the incendiary. godless man.346 THE GERMAN CLASSICS were until lie should have been told the name of the place where his enemy was to be found. animated by the . to whom thou art sub- — ject. was with his cousins Hinz and Kunz in Dresden. whose canst thou say that thy rights have been savage breast.

in the evening. For several days the two men hoped in vain that Kohlhaas would perceive Luther's placard. and he noticed nothing. Lord. for my soul is ignorant of his existence. let alone by the municipal council. "When Sternbald and Waldmann. completely gave up the endeavor to procure justice after the first half-hearted stables attempts. is a judgment that they should deliver this thy supreme authority? And must I tell thee. Gloomy and absorbed in thought. so that when thou shalt one day come before the throne of God thinking to accuse him. impious man. Kohlhaas within the castle was just revolving in his distracted for he placed for the burning of Leipzig no faith in the notices posted in the villages announcing that a mind new plan — Squire Wenzel was in Dresden. in the life to come. etc. ' .MICHAEL KOHLHAAS 347 inordinate desire for base revenge. and no warrior of the righteous God wheel and gallows are thy goal on earth gallows and. for they did not care to approach him on the subject. that the supreme authority of the land knows nothing or who withhold — whatever about thine affair nay. I have done no wrong to this ' — — man. A rebel art thou." Wittenberg. he will be able to say with a serene countenance. discovered the placard which had been affixed to the gateway of the castle at Liitzen during the night. appear. Martin Luther. he did indeed. that the sovwhom thou art rebelling does not even know ereign against thy name. to their great consternation. when he was about to have two of his followers strung up for plundering in the vicinity against his express orders. With the pomp which he had . Finally one morning. as he had required. more. damnation which is ordained for crime and godlessness. which came to naught? Is a bench full of conand beadles who suppress a letter that is presented. but only to give his brief commands. Sternbald and Waldmann determined to call his attention to it. since they were not signed by any one. Know that the sword which thou wieldest is the sword of robbery and bloodthirstiness.

Waldmann have read it through once again. ornamented with golden tassels. When Kohlhaas. But who can describe the storm of emotion in his soul when he beheld there the paper accusing him of injustice. and cried. wrapped in his cloak and provided with a brace of pistols which he had taken at the sack of Tronka of Martin Luther! off his ' ' ! — ! ' ' ' ' ! . sunk in thought and with his hands folded behind his back. around the pillar to which the placard was attached. helmet he read the document through twice taking from beginning to end. He put up at an inn under an assumed name. he departed for Wittenberg. In the presence of some of his most trustworthy men he turned over to Sternbald the command of the band remaining in Liitzen. yet said nothing. walked. and as the two men at sight of him drew back respectfully. and at nightfall. signed the name by the most beloved and honored name he knew — A dark flush spread over his face. " follow me into the horse saddled Sternbald. and with the assurance that he would be back in three days. At that moment the two men. with their swords under their arms. and twelve men with burning Kohlhaas was just returning from torches following him the place of execution. came under the portal. during which time no attack was to be feared.348 THE GERMAN CLASSICS a large cherubim's adopted since his last manifesto sword on a red leather cushion. He threw on the disguise of a Thuringian farmer and told Sternbald that a matter of the greatest importance obliged him to go to Wittenberg. he raised his eyes and started back in surprise. then. in a way that could not fail to excite his surprise. borne before him. he advanced with — — rapid steps to the pillar. my castle and with that he disappeared. It had needed but these few words of that godly man to disarm him suddenly in the midst of all the dire destruction that he was plotting. watching them absent-mindedly. while the people on both sides timidly made way for him. then walked back among his men with irresolute glances as though he were about to speak. He unfastened the paper from the pillar.

than Luther cried out. " Stand far back from me!" and rising from the desk as he hurried toward a bell. lence. if you touch the bell this Sit down and pistol will stretch me lifeless at your feet hear me. he asked who he was and what he wanted. than you are with me. at his desk with a mass of books and papers before sitting him. procure me a safe-conduct and I will go to Dresden and lay it before him. Impious and terrible man at the same time. that I am an unjust man You told me in your placard that my sovereign knows nothing about my case. You are not safer among the angels. whose psalms you are writing down. who was holding his hat respectfully in his hand. Information which I received from Dresden deceived and misled me The war which I am waging against society is a crime. Very well." cried Luther. had no sooner. " Reverend Sir. as long as states have existed. Luther sat down and asked. entered Luther's room." 11 " What mad Cast out " cried at him. " What do you want? " Kohlhaas answered.MICHAEL KOHLHAAS 349 When Luther. so long as I haven't been cast out and you have assured me that I have not. to visit with fire and sword the whole community which protects him ? " Kohlhaas answered. " Most reverend Sir. no one. the horse-dealer. " I wish to refute the opinion you have of me. The man. " Your breath is pestiadded. ! ' ' ! Michael Kohlhaas. has . who was Castle. henceforth. saw the extraordinary stranger enter his room and bolt the door behind him. puzzled and. ' ' ' ' ! ' ' 1 ! — Luther. and. made answer that he was " your presence destruction! Without stirring from the spot Kohlhaas drew his pistol and said. reassured by these words. looking thoughts have taken possession of you? ! Who could have cast you out from the community of the state in which you lived? Indeed where. when you did not find him in his castle. with a diffident presentiment of the terror that he would cause. Who gave the right to attack Squire Tronka in pursuance of a you decree issued on your own authority.

does not cast me out I will return again to the community which he protects. if my peaceable business is to prosI take per. trated upon us. " entitled to judge him therefor? if the sovereign answered Kohlhaas. Procure for me. " who is places in my hand — how can you try to deny ' ' it? — the club with which to protect myself. and reflecting upon the judgment which Kohlhaas had issued at Kohlhaasenbriick against the Squire. have suffered from the outrage perpe. no matter who. Luther tossed in a heap the papers that were lying on his desk. which was rejected. I repeat it. clench- ing his denied the protection of the laws. he fist. For I need this protection. who but God has the right to call him to account choosing such servants. it is for this that. . with all my possessions. and he who denies me this prorefuge tection casts me out among the savages of the desert. safeconduct to Dresden. to whom you addressed your complaint. before the 1 ' ' ' ' ' courts of the land. " " Who has denied you the protection of the laws? cried Luther. Very well. he asked what it was that he demanded Kohlhaas answered.350 THE GERMAN CLASSICS there ever been a case of any one. and are you. lost and terrible man." answered Kohlhaas." With an expression of vexation. The attitude of defiance which this singular man had assumed toward the state irritated him. in this community. who fell at Muhlberg. has never heard of it? If state-servants behind his back suppress lawsuits or otherwise trifle with his sacred name without his knowlfor edge. punishment of the Squire according to the law restoration of the horses to their former condition and compensation for the damages which I. " Did I not write you that your sovereign. as well as my groom Herse. being cast " out of such a community"? " I call that man cast out. " The of the tribunal at Dresden. and was silent. then I will disperse the band of men that I have collected in the castle at Liitzen and I will once again lay my complaint. Yes. ) ) .

would it not have been better for you to pardon the Squire for your Redeemer's sake. will and let the that may Do you. on notes and securities. when it is finally " pronounced. ! 1 ' ' ' ' * ! more than the expenses of my wife's funeral! Herse's old mother will present the bill for her son's medical treatment. Luther " See here. any cried. But. in all other points be contested I will yield to you. as he gazed at him. indeed the circumstances are such as is commonly reported and if you had only succeeded in having your suit decided by the sovereign before you arbitrarily proceeded to avenge yourself. Perhaps not. " Mad. and mount and ride home to Kohlhaasenbriick to fatten them in your own stable 1 Kohlhaas answered. thin and worn-out as they were. will fall so lightly upon him? Kohlhaas answered.MICHAEL KOHLHAAS Luther ' ' 351 ! Compensation for damages Money by the thousands. " Perhaps " Then. stepping to the window. in these particulars. as well as a list of those things which he lost at Tronka Castle. what impels you to insist upon a judgment against him. and the loss which I suffered on account of not selling the black horses the government may have estimated by an expert. and amazing man! After your sword has taken the most ferocious revenge upon the Squire which could well be imagined. " Most reverend Sir! It has cost me my wife. the severity of which. God forbid House and farm and the means that I possessed I do not demand back. yield to my court of justice speak. you have borrowed to defray the expenses of Shall you put that amount also on the your wild revenge " bill when it comes to reckoning up the costs? answered Kohlhaas. incomprehensible. point for point. I do not doubt that your demands would have been granted. either Had I known that I should ' ' ! ' ' ! . while a tear rolled down his cheek. what you demand is just. from Jews and Christians. take back the black horses." said. if . Kohlhaas intends to prove to the world that she did not perish in an unjust quarrel." Luther exclaimed. all things considered.

I might. and have the Squire fatten my horses for me." he added. . after reflecting a short time. in exchange. scanned his face. as Kohlhaas bent to kiss his hand. If the sovereign would consent to accord him free-conduct. he had failed to go to church on account of this warlike expedition of his. that at Whitsuntide. Kohlhaas. say I. thev would make the fact known to him by posting it publicly. perhaps have done as you say and not have considered a bushel of oats! But since they have now cost me so dear. he got up from his chair prepart pared to dismiss him. for I have heard that he has collected an army and is about to start out to apprehend you in the castle at Liitzen however. reverend Sir. Will you likewise. whereupon Luther bowed to him with a sweep of his hand. "To be sure. Kohlhaas declared that Luther's intercession completely reassured him on that point. I do not know. forgave his enemy. Kohlhaas. " Yes. and said. as I have already told you. whose body you desire. mount your black horses. I will do so. as he spoke. administer to him the blessed Holy Sacrament? Luther. the Elector will be lenient. — — But the Lord. ride them back to Kohlhaasenbriick and fatten them there? " ' ' Your Reverence hand ' ' ! his — said Kohlhaas flushing. however. and seized "Well! " ." Turning back to his papers with conflicting thoughts. Luther said that he would enter into negotiations with the Elector on his behalf. there shall be no lack of effort on my " and. as the other looked at him " disconcerted. have judgment be pronounced as is due me. Would Luther have the goodness to receive his confession without further preparation and. when it was his custom to receive the Holy Communion. suddenly sank down on one knee before him and said he had still another favor to ask of him the fact was.352 THE GERMAN CLASSICS be obliged to set them on their feet again with blood from the heart of my dear wife." he " whether continued. in the mean time let him remain quietly in the castle at Liitzen. let the matter run its course. forgive the Squire who has offended you? Will you go to Tronka Castle.

and rang the bell. without further delay. after a bitter allusion to the lords. took down from the wall the key to the outside door and stepped back to the half-opened door of the room. with the candor that was peculiar to him. the lords Hinz and Kunz. IV — 23 . into the . and Luther had sat down again to his papers. "And so. my black horses again for me. as was generally known. somewhat surprised at the sight of whereupon the visitor." these words Luther turned his back on him. said. I camiot partake of the benefit of recon- which I solicited of you ? Reconciliation with your Luther answered shortly. anteroom with a light. most reverend Sir. which was bolted. and disappeared after the man who was ciliation. Kohlhaas. and Kohlhaas. and whoever else Even may At have injured suffer me me in this affair. but. ' ' ' ' — ! — lighting him down the stairs. Kohlhaas opened the door for the man. that under such notorious circumstances there was nothing to do but to accept the Vol. ' ' ' ' ! summons an amanuensis came waiting for the stranger to take his departure. Light the way the latter. With the sovereign that depends upon the Savior no success of the attempt which I promised you to make. Hinz and Kunz Tronka. the command he had given him. had sup- pressed the petition. if to force the Squire to fatten it is possible. rose from his knees disconcerted and since the amanuensis was working in vain at the door. with a In answer to the displeased glance. Luther glanced for an instant over his shoulder at the stranger. who. wiping his eyes. On the next morning Luther dispatched a message to the Elector of Saxony in which." And then he motioned to the amanuensis to carry out. he informed the sovereign.MICHAEL KOHLHAAS 1 ' 353 the Lord did not forgive all his enemies. and said to the amanuensis. Chamberlain and Cup-bearer to his Highness. my two gentlemen the castellan and forgive the steward. holding his hat nervously in both hands. Let me the Elector. Kohlhaas laid both hands on his heart with an expression of painful emotion.

in short. he really might. in this extraordinary case. Count Kallheim. since he was not a Saxon subject. Luther remarked. on his own authority. scruples about entering into negotiations with a subject who had taken up arms must be passed over. Count Wrede. if his offer were refused. and the two lords. which had three times been burnt down by him. And since. also the Grand Chancellor of the Tribunal. even in Wittenberg. He once more explained in detail that never. he should be regarded rather as a foreign power which had attacked the land (and. by the conduct which had been observed toward him. Public opinion. than as a rebel in revolt against the throne. Luther concluded that. misled by false . The Chamberlain. in order to put an end to the matter. would he have suppressed the complaint which the horse-dealer Squire. be regarded as such). Kohlhaas would undoubtedly bring it to the knowledge of the people. Sir Kunz. accompanied by malicious comments. who in his capacity of privy councilor. at- tended to the private correspondence of his master and had the right to use his name and seal. Generalissimo of the Empire. the latter Chamberlain — tial friends of the sovereign from his youth. was on the side of this man to a very dangerous so much so that. there was a voice extent — raised in his favor. as a matter of fact. the latter. in a way. had it had lodged in court against his cousin the not been for the fact that. and. When the Elector received this letter there were present at the palace Prince Christiern of Meissen. was the first to speak. had in a sense been cast out of the body politic. and the populace might easily be so far misled that nothing further could be done against him by the authorities of the state. the all confidenformer Cup-bearer. Hinz and Kunz Tronka.354 THE GERMAN CLASSICS proposition of the horse-dealer and to grant him an amnesty for what had occurred so that he might have opportunity to renew his lawsuit. uncle of that Prince Friedrich of Meissen who had been defeated at Muhlberg and was still laid up with his wounds. President of the Chancery of State. that.

turning half way round toward him.MICHAEL KOHLHAAS 355 statements. and declared that the only way to sunder it and extricate the government happily from that ugly quarrel was to act with plain honesty and to make good. carried away by the fire of his eloquence. he had believed it an absolutely unfounded and worthless piece of mischief-making. The Chamber- lain then proceeded to describe the glory that would fall upon the damnable head of the latter if they should negoti- him as with a recognized military power. when asked by the Elector to express his opinion. directly and without respect of person. accepted. that the thread of the crime threatened in this way to be spun out indefinitely. see the judgment of the mad rebel carried out and his cousin. in the first instance. Luther had been Justice. been inspired with such tender solicitude for the reputation of the sovereign as he was displaying in the solution of this undoubtedly delicate affair. than made by Dr. The Lord High Chancellor of the Tribunal of Count Wrede. He thinking naturally inspired in him the greatest respect. led ate with off to know that the proposition Kohlhaasenbriick to fatten the black horses. but. turned deferentially toward the Grand Chancellor and declared that the latter 's way of power of the ure. After this he passed on to consider the present state of affairs. Prince Christiern of Meissen. and the ignominy which would thereby be reflected upon the sacred person of the Elector seemed to him so intolerable that. the mistake which they had been guilty of committing. he declared he would rather let worst come to worst. expressed regret that the Chamberlain had not. He represented to the Elector his hesitation about employing the state to carry out a manifestly unjust measremarked. with a significant allusion to the great numbers which the horse-dealer was continually recruiting in the country. . He remarked that by neither divine nor human laws had the horse-dealer been warranted in wreaking such horrible vengeance as he had allowed himself to take for this mistake. the Squire.

The order of the state was so disturbed in its relation to this man that it would be difficult to set it right by an axiom taken from the science of law. The Chamberlain brought over two chairs from the wall and obligingly placed them together in the middle of the room for the Elector and the Prince. The Prince. as was well known. that he was delighted to find man of the latter 's uprightness and acumen agreed with him about the means to be employed in settling an affair of such varied aspect. For if necessity required that the veil be drawn before the throne of justice over a series of crimes. the Chancellor failed to consider that he was wronging Wittenberg. and no end First and original offense which had given birth to them. his whole face flushing. who had planted himself in the castle at Liitzen. and walked over to the window. Therefore. that a — whose case. Count Kallheim said that this was not the way .356 THE GERMAN CLASSICS in wishing to aid Kolilhaas to secure justice. must be tried for his life if foremost. who turned away. Leipzig. looked at him. the Chamberlain. as he did so. The discomfited Chamberlain at these words gazed at the Elector. saying. and in whose hand they had placed the sword that he was wielding. he was in favor of employing the means that is to say. placing his hand on the chair without sitting down. which finally would be unable to find room before the bar of judgment. since each led to this at least did not apply to the another. in accord with the opinion of the Chamberlain. to be followed by a suit for misuse of the sovereign's name. After an embarrassing silence on all sides. in depriving them of their just claim for indemnity or at least for punishment of the culprit. and assured him that he had little cause to rejoice on that account since the first step connected with this course would be the issuing of a warrant for his arrest. he. the state was to be authorized to crush the horse-dealer. was exceedingly just. and the entire country that had been injured by him. there should be appointed for such cases — gathered a force large enough to enable them either to capture or to crush the horse-dealer.

That would be a diplomatic solution of the affair. His nephew. how the governmental decree which was to be passed could escape men of The horse-dealer. cepts seemed to have confounded. nothing prevents us from imprisoning Kohlhaas on the ground of his incendiarism and robberies. such wisdom as were here assembled. the Cup-bearer. as well as the 'council of state. in return for mere safe-conduct to Dresden and a renewed investigation of his case." The Prince. as well as the Lord Chancellor. He did not understand. that he must be granted an amnesty for the wanton revenge he had taken These were two different legal coninto his own hands. stepped his instructions in many ways if one were to inquire about the whole long list of those who had caused the embarrassment in which they now found themselves. for in the peculiar expedition which he had undertaken against Kohlhaas he had overso much so that. It did not follow from this. he said. the various opinions which had been expressed before him. which Dr. he too would have to be named among them and called to account by the sovereign for what had occurred at Miihlberg. no matter what it may be. as the discussion accordingly seemed at an end. Luther. however. Prince Friedrich. with doubtful glances.MICHAEL KOHLHAAS to extricate themselves 357 from the magic circle in which they were captive. lay' ' ' ' — " the judgment concerning ing his finger beside his nose. walked up to his table. When. began to speak in his turn. which would unite the advantages of the opinion of both statesmen and would be sure to win the applause of the world and of posterity. he continued. answered this speech of Sir Hinz with a mere glance. the Elector said that he would turn over in his until the next sitting of the State Council. . While the Elector. and. might be put upon trial with equal justice. had promised to disband the force with which he had attacked the land. so far as he knew. the black horses has been pronounced by the Tribunal at Dresden. Sir Hinz Tronka. It seemed as if the preliminary measure mentioned by the own mind.

Chancellor. terminate otherwise. Count Wrede. the essence of which we give as follows " Elector of in . on consideration of the intercession made the condition that. The latter showed him letters from which it appeared that. whose opinion appeared to him the most expedient. to remain after the others left. and a complete amnesty shall be accorded him for the acts of violence which he has committed in Saxony.. he immediately . we will show mercy to him and his whole band." Kohlhaas had no sooner received through Dr. he shall be prosecuted with all the severity of the law for arbitrarily undertaking to procure justice for himself. all the preparations for which were completed at least he bade the Lord . he might reckon on doubling or even tripling this number in a short time. horse-dealer from the territory of Brandenburg. as a matter of fact. . Only a few days later a placard appeared. that in the unlikely event of Kohlhaas' suit concerning the black horses being rejected by the Tribunal at Dresden. which was very sensitive where friendship was concerned. Saxony. : We. the horse-dealer's forces had already come to number four hundred men indeed. Luther accordingly he handed over to Count Wrede the entire management of the Kohlhaas affair. in view of the general discontent which prevailed all over the country on account of the misdemeanors of the Chamberlain. of the desire to proceed with the campaign against Kohlhaas. Should his suit. Without further hesitation the Elector decided to accept the advice given him by Dr.358 THE GERMAN CLASSICS Prince had deprived the Elector's heart. etc. Luther a copy of this placard. especially gracious to us by Doctor Martin Luther. It is to be under- stood. do grant to Michael Kohlhaas. than. he lay down arms to which he has had recourse. instead of inflicting deserved punishment. in spite of the condiwhich it was couched. safe-conduct to Dresden for the purpose of a renewed investigation of his case. etc. however. within three days after sight. which had been posted in all the public tional language in squares throughout the land. however..

without being recognized. he found an immense crowd of people already gathered in the streets leading to Kohlhaas' dwelling. the city as well as the suburbs. in the Government Office. and had sent Sternbald to Schwerin for his children whom he wished to have with him again. and the boys climbed up to the windows in order to get a peep at the word that eating his breakfast inside. thanks to the honesty of the bailiff. whatever he had taken in the way of money. to be held as the property of the Elector. who on opening the door was charge surprised and startled to see his master. if that were still possible. with the courts at Liitzen. belonged to him. who punished the oppressors of the people with fire and sword. on hearing this news.MICHAEL KOHLHAAS 359 dispersed his whole band of followers with presents. the old porter. exHe pressions of gratitude. in of the establishment. to Dresden. the horse-dealer. drawing from his belt a wallet containing several papers concerning his . carrying with him in bonds the remnant of his little property. he left the castle at Liitzen and went. Day was just breaking and the whole city was still asleep when he knocked at the door of the little dwelling situated in the suburb of Pirna. and appropriate admonitions. which still. who was standing half undressed before a table. he asked the latter. had pushed into the house and incendiary. and chattels. When. Thomas. he appeared with a retinue of knights and servants. The news that the destroying angel was there. deposited weapons. and after he had dispatched Waldmann to the bailiff at Kohlhaasenbriick with letters about repurchasing his farm. shortly afterward. Kohlhaas. Kohlhaas the horse-dealer had arrived. As soon as the Prince. deemed it expedient to inform himself immediately of the relation in which they stood to this man. was told to take to the Prince of Meissen. They were obliged to bolt the door of the house against the press of curious people. had aroused all Dresden. who was entered Kohlhaas' room. with the help of the guard who cleared the way for him. The Prince of Meissen. whether he was Kohlhaas.

answered. you will be obliged to consent to a guard for of ' ' ' ' the first when you go out! " Kohlhaas looked down disconcerted. and had concluded that in every respect they might set their minds at rest about him. that. to protect you in your house as well as blame for it. Count Wrede himself." and with that he turned again toward the door with the intention of leaving the house. and that. Prince. in conformity with the immunity granted him by the sovereign. that the man in whose house they were to remain was free. Kohlhaas. " Well. and that it was merely for his protection that they were to follow him when he went out. " That is understood. he had come to Dresden. said the Prince after a pause. in order to institute it. in order to find out what kind The man he was. who were appointed for this purpose. and the sort of life he intended to lead in the future. few days. he gave him back the documents and said that nothing now stood in the way of his lawsuit. and was silent. no matter. of course. leavwhatever happens. after a hasty glance which took Kohlhaas in from head to foot." and added respectfully to the Prince." The Prince answered." He informed the three foot-soldiers. I have no objection to this measure. in order to institute proceedings against Squire Wenzel Tronka on account of the black horses." said the Prince. looked through the papers in the wallet and had him explain the nature of a certificate which he found there executed by the court at Liitzen. do as you like If you will give me your word that the guard will be withdrawn as soon as I wish it. his wealth. concerning the deposit made in favor of the treasury of the Electorate. you have yourself ing the window ' ' . who had reflected. after disbanding his force. he then to ' ' ! .360 affairs THE GERMAN CLASSICS it " and handing Yes. said My lord. the Tribunal. he should just apply directly to the Lord High Chancellor of In the meantime. crossing over to the window and gazing in amazement at the people gathered in front of " the house. After he had further tested him with various questions about his children.

In the mean time the Squire had been released from his imprisonment in Wittenberg. he was escorted by his three foot-soldiers and followed by an innumerable crowd. and after he had had the entire course of the affair related to him from beginning to end. had been summoned by the Supreme Court in peremptory terms to present himself in Dresden to answer the suit instituted against him by the horsedealer. who had . and took his leave. firmly resolved in his mind not to leave the house again unless called away by impor- tant business. cousins of the Squire. did not try to harm him in any way. and compensation for the damages he had sustained as well as for those suffered by his groom. who. Herse. The Tronka brothers. at whose house he alighted. The Chancellor received him in his ante- chamber with benignity and kindness. referred to a celebrated lawyer in the city who was a member of the Tribunal. Kohlhaas punishment of the Squire according to law. who had fallen at Miihlberg in behalf of the latter 's old mother. without further delay. When this was done Kohlhaas returned home. Lord High Chancellor of the Tribunal. 361 wave of the Toward midday Kohlhaas went to Count Wrede. so that he might have the complaint drawn up and presented immediately. betook himself to the lawyer's house and had the suit drawn up exactly like the He demanded the original one which had been quashed. the restoration of the horses to their former condition. They called him a miserable good-for-nothing. with regard to a pair of black horses which had been unlawfully taken from him and worked to death. conversed with him for two whole hours. having been warned by the police. Kohlhaas. accompanied by the crowd that — still continued to gape at him.MICHAEL KOHLHAAS saluted the horse-dealer with a condescending hand. and after recovering from a dangerous attack of erysipelas which had caused inflammation of his foot. Kohlhaas. received him with the greatest bitterness and contempt. the Chamberlain and the Cupbearer.

and called upon him to prepare at once to produce the black horses. to the question. but all inquiries which were made there proved vain. wrote to their stewards and to the farmers living there for information about the black horses which had been lost on that unfortunate day and not heard of since. in reply to his written inquiry. But on account of the complete destruction of the castle and the massacre of most Tronka of the inhabitants. assured the latter. had used the horses in getting in the crops and. had rendered them unfit for further use. driven by blows dealt with the flat of the incendiary's sword. told him that he would inevitably lose his suit. where he should take them and what he should do with them. and that the castellan and the steward were to blame that he The Squire answered was more deserving in a of pity than for everything. partly in their own fields. which had been burned down. who possessed estates in the neighborhood of Castle. who had Meissen. Since there was nothing else to be done. and some error seemed to lie at the bottom of this fled to information. that on the morning after that horrible night the servant had gone off with the horses toward the Brandenburg border.362 THE GERMAN CLASSICS brought shame and disgrace on the whole family. the lords Hinz and Kunz. the Squire. The Squire's gouty old housekeeper. because they. but that afterward. weak and trembling voice any other man known but little about He swore that he had on earth. the whole cursed affair which had plunged him into misfortune. at the request of their cousin. He sat down as he said this and begged them not to mortify and insult him and thus wantonly cause a relapse of the illness from which he had but recently recovered. the next day. which he would be condemned to fatten to the scornful laughter of the world. by overworking them. as the Squire had no servant whose home was . had rescued them from the burning shed in all which they were standing. he had been answered by a kick from the savage madman. without his knowledge or consent. that they could learn was that a servant.

as can be easily understood. in which. and. which. as he said. no one knew to whom and a third rumor. was the to the lords Hinz and Kunz. most pleasing and admonish the owner. in Dresden. and led them to the market-place in Dresden. thin and staggering. to verify this circumstance. This turn of affairs. the man happened to be the knacker from Dobeln. however. Sir Kunz. as the animals were very sick and could go no further. For a variety of reasons it seemed very probable that these were the black horses for which search was being made. as they were thus relieved of the necessity of fattening the blacks in their stables. declared that. and be generously reimbursed for all costs. with the right of judicature. addressed a letter to the magistrates at Wilsdruf. the originator of which could not be discovered. Sir Wenzel in his capacity as hereditary feudal lord Tronka.MICHAEL KOHLHAAS 363 in Brandenburg or even on the road thither. Accordingly. however. tied to the tailboard of his As the cart. bad luck of Sir Wenzel and still more of honest Kohlhaas would have it. the Squire. them at the stables of the Chamberlain. for the sake of absolute security. he begged them to be so obliging as to ascertain their present whereabouts. in the carrion pit at Wilsdruf. They wished. Some men from Dresden. no longer having any stables of his own. but persons coming from Wilsdruf declared that the shepherd had already traded them off again. leading two horses by the halter. their cousin. after a minute description of the black horses. the man to whom the shepherd in Wilsdruf had sold them did actually appear with the horses. therefore. a few clays later. whoever he might be. who had been in Wilsdruf a few days after the burning of Tronka Castle. a groom had arrived in that place. had been intrusted to his care and lost through an accident. even asserted that the two horses had in the mean time passed peacefully away and been buried . and to urge to deliver . at the time named. he had left them in the cow-stable of a shepherd who had offered to restore them to good condition.

364 THE GERMAN CLASSICS as Sir Wenzel. to make good the expenses the man had incurred and take the horses home with them. would have clashed him to pieces. which seemed every moment about to expire. and for which Squire Wenzel Tronka. taking up the pail again told. was busy watering a fat. But how disconcerted were the knights to see a momentarily attracted by the around the two-wheeled cart spectacle." and propping it between the pole of the cart and his knee — — — . said in an embarrassed way that those were not the horses which he had taken from ! increasing crowd of people. both gentlemen. on account of which the whole state was tottering. to whom they belonged. and explained that the black horses which were tied to the tailboard of the cart had been sold to him by the swineherd in Hainichen. in the presence of the Chamber- As soon lain. already standing to which the horses were fastened! Amid uninterrupted laughter they were calling to one another that the horses. where the latter had obtained them and whether they came from the shepherd at Wilsdruf that he did not know. went to the palace square where the man had stopped. had it been of iron. casting at him a look of speechless rage which. The knacker who. learned from an indefinite rnmor that a man had arrived in the city with two black horses which had escaped from the burning of Tronka Castle. and throwing back his cloak to disclose his orders and chain. who had been Kohlhaas. but Sir Kunz. " He had been he continued. the Chamberlain. with a pail of water in his hand. if the two animals proved to be those belonging to Kohlhaas. intending. stepped up to the knacker and asked if those were the black horses which the shepherd at Wilsdruf had gained possession of. his cousin. had made requisition through the magistrate of that place. already The Squire who had gone around belonged to the knacker the cart and gazed at the miserable animals. accompanied by a few servants hurriedly collected in the house. took the bit out of the horse's mouth. sturdy horse that was drawing his " The blacks? " Then he cart asked put down the pail.

had to be those however. who was attending to his business with phlegmatic zeal. pulling up his trousers. unless they were those on which the devil was riding through Saxony. who was standing there with his legs apart. who in turn had bought them . his cousin. The black horses." With these words he turned around with the rest of the water which the horse had left in the pail. perhaps purchased these horses from the shepherd at Wilsdruf. they must be the two horses that originally had belonged to the horse-dealer Kohlhaas. he went on. or from a third person. to look at him. Had not the swineherd of Hainichen. The knacker replied that he had been ordered to go with the black horses to Dresden and was to receive the money He did not underfor them in the house of the Tronkas. ' .MICHAEL KOHLHAAS 365 " he had been told by the messenger of the court at Wilsdruf to take the horses to the house of the Tronkas in Dresden. stand what the Squire was talking about. who for the life of him didn't know what he should do with the horses which the swineherd of Hainichen had sold to the knacker of Dobeln. or the shepherd in Wilsdruf. He asked the fellow. jeering crowd and could not induce the fellow. whether he did not know something about all this. with the intention of getting some breakfast. as he was very hungry. latter? from the — for The Chamberlain. The Chamberlain. was all one to him so long as they had not been stolen. said that he was the Chamberlain Kunz Tronka. everything depended on this circumstance. and whether it was Peter or Paul. belonging to the Squire. they must have been given to the shepherd at Wilsdruf by a stable-man who had run away from Tronka Castle at the time of the fire moreover. who had owned them before the swineherd in Hainichen. to a public house which stood in the square. which he was to get possession of. and with this he went off. with his whip across his broad back. who was beset by the stares of the laughing. and emptied it out on the pavement. but the Squire to whom he had been directed was named Kunz.

it so happened that Kohlhaas was just then present. absolutely at a loss to know what he should do or leave undone. with an annoyed look. He explained that the knacker from Dobeln. but when the latter with white. Defiantly determined not to leave the square just because the rabble were staring at him derisively and with their handkerchiefs pressed tight over their mouths seemed to be waiting only for him to depart before bursting out into laughter. have Kohlhaas brought there to When the Baron. entered the chamber of the Lord High Chancellor. acting on a defective requisition from the court at Wilsdruf. trembling lips replied that it would be advisable to buy the black horses whether they belonged to Kohlhaas or not. you " to have a therefore have the goodness. and through the latter 's instrumentality to look at the black horses. intent upon this errand. whose person was un- known latter to the Baron. and begged him to stop at the house of the Lord High Chancellor. having been summoned by a messenger of the court to give certain explanations of which they stood in need concerning the deposit in Liitzen. the informed him of the dilemma in which the lords Tronka found themselves." he concluded. Count Wrede. stepped aside out of the crowd and threw back his cloak. guard fetch the horse-dealer from his house and conduct . the Chamberlain. cursing the father and mother who had given birth to the Squire. he called to Baron Wenk. and an attempt made to restore them to good condition in the stables of the knights. In case they were to be taken from the knacker notwithstanding. to step to one side with his papers. an acquaintance who happened to be riding by.366 THE GERMAN CLASSICS asked the Squire to say something. While the Chancellor. rose from his chair and asked the horse-dealer. an ocular inspection by Kohlhaas would first be necessary in order to establish " Will the aforesaid circumstance beyond doubt. had appeared with horses whose condition was so frightful that Squire Wenzel could not help hesitating to pronounce them the ones belonging to Kohlhaas.

who had walked over to the window. took their way to the Palace square attended by a great crowd of people. Kohlhaas stepped up to the table of the Chancellor. As the disconcerted Baron faced around toward him. The Baron. The animals were standing there on unsteady legs. whose expression gave no hint of what was going on in his mind. Kohlhaas. said that he was ready to follow the Baron to the market-place and inspect the black horses which the knacker had brought to the city. holding his sword proudly and ostentatiously under his arm. with the help of the papers in his wallet. in spite of the protests of several friends who had joined him. his face suffused with a deep blush. and. he walked toward the knacker's cart. in imagining that he. and sitting down and putting on his glasses again. with heads bowed down to the ground. Sir Kunz. took his leave. stood his ground among the people.MICHAEL KOHLHAAS 367 him to the market-place where the horses are standing? " The Lord High Chancellor. As soon as the Baron and the horse-dealer appeared he went up to the latter and. taking his glasses from his nose. said that the Baron was laboring under a double delusion first. With this he presented to him Kohlhaas who was standing behind him. and then. the Chancellor. several matters concerning the deposit in Liitzen. escorted by the three foot-soldiers assigned by the Prince of Meissen. begged him apply to the horse-dealer himself in the matter. had adieux. making no attempt to eat . likewise made his to and both. opposite the knacker of Dobeln. without answering. In the mean time the Chamberlain. The horse-dealer. touched his hat. then. in thinking that the fact in question could be ascertained only by means of an ocular inspection by Kohlhaas. turning modestly toward the gentleman who had asked him the question and who was unknown to him. asked if the horses standing behind the wagon were his. surrounded by all the knights. pos- — sessed the authority to have Kohlhaas taken by a guard wherever the Squire happened to wish. after taking time to explain to him.

foaming with rage. the horses As he spoke he looked around to his cart belong tome!" at the whole circle of knights. seized him by the arm. had he taken of his friends and relatives summons of among his the hold of the halter to untie them. And while left the square. left a group crowd. at his orders. My lord. At these words the Chamberlain. an officer with some of the Elector's bodyguards had arrived from the palace. but he did. in obedience to the orders of Baron Wenk. strode up to the knacker and threw him a purse full of money. then turned about and. combed the hair back from his forehead with a leaden comb and stared at the money. ' ' and accompanied by his guard. who was standing there. his " You cousin. under arrest. and after a hasty glance turned back again to the Chamberlain. the Chamberlain accused him of having maltreated and thrust away from the cart the groom who. which are fastened the knacker is quite right. Kohlhaas stopped a dozen feet away. and added that he must get a knacker's man to do him such a service as that. than Master Himboldt. No sooner. and with the words. over the heads of the knights who surrounded him. " hurled him shan't touch the knacker's jades! away from back unsteadily over the puddle. Sir Kunz gave him a short account of the shameful way in which the burghers of the city permitted themselves to instigate revolt. Sir Kunz ordered a groom to untie the horses and lead them home. saying. his face flushed slightly. holding the purse in his hand. go up to the horses. the latter. called for the guard. nevertheless. speechless with astonishment at this incident. was place the ringleader.368 the THE GERMAN CLASSICS hay which the knacker had placed before them. The Chamberlain. with a hasty step that made the plume of his helmet tremble. stared at Master Himboldt for a moment. however. The groom. the Then. Master Seizing the Master by the chest. touched his hat once more. cart. . at the master. stepping over a big puddle that had formed at their feet. and called upon the officer to Himboldt. stepping the Master turned toward the Chamberlain. When.

he may to and decent. drew his sword and with furious blows drove the groom instantly from the square and from his service. the Chamberlain followed him. tore from the young man's head the hat which was decorated with the badge of his house. flay and skin them now. they had been so scattered by the rush of the mob that the Chamberlain. When the groom. and. even before they had started to rescue him. The Master. and whom the officer of the Elector's body-guards called to his assistance. answered timidly that the horses must be made honorable once more before that could be expected of him. showing a boy of twenty what he ought to do is not instigating him to revolt ! Ask him whether. and helmet. Master Himboldt cried. cried. outraged at this crowded together and forced back the guard. In vain did the Squire Wenzel. wrenched the sword from his hand. what I have said. seized the furious Master Vol. The only thing that saved him was the appearance of a troop of mounted soldiers who chanced to be crossing the square. " Down with the bloodthirsty mad" And while the man. call to the knights to go to his cousin's aid. tore off his cloak." At these words the Chamberlain turned round to the groom and asked him if he had any scruples about fulfilling his command to untie the horses which belonged to Kohlhaas and lead them home. after dispersing the crowd. he came scene. " My lord. The officer. and dashed it with a furious fling far away across the square. after trampling it under his feet. IV 24 Him- — . was exposed to the full wrath of the crowd. as he worked his way out of the crowd.MICHAEL KOHLHAAS 369 unhitching the black horses. up behind the Chamberlain and threw him down. freeing himself from the Chamberlain's grasp with a skilful twist which forced the latter to step back. he cares horses that are tied to the cart. friends! citizens. collar. contrary to all that is customary have anything to do with those If he wants to do it after well and good. For all I care. stepping back among the citizens. who in falling had injured his head.

who helped It was highly strengthen and spread this sentiment. and. to accord him in so trivial a matter justice which he had wrung from them by deeds of To complete the ruin of poor Kohlhaas. would ever be restored to the condition they were in when they left the stables at Kohlhaasenbriick. This incident. while two friends picked up the unfortunate Chamberlain. since the crowd was beginning to scatter.370 THE GERMAN CLASSICS some of the troopers bore him off to prison. and there they remained the whole day through without any one's bothering about them. Such was the unfortunate outcome of the well-meant and honest attempt to procure the horse-dealer satisfaction for the injustice that had been committed against him. nevertheless the disgrace . mad obstinacy. the knacker of Dresden was hand. whose business was concluded. boldt. nevertheless awakened throughout the country. in private houses as well as in public places. rather than. the police city to await further instructions. Finally. and. animated by too great probity. even among the more moderate and better class of people. as to little as the horse-dealer was in reality blame for it. and who did not wish to delay any longer. who was covered with blood. However. the opinion gained ground that it would be better to commit an open injustice against him and quash the whole lawsuit anew. it was the Lord High Chancellor himself. for the mere sake of satisfying his violence. to be quite intolerable and. The knacker of Dobeln. granted that this might be possible by skilful and constant care. and carried him home. and a consequent hatred of the Tronka family. a sentiment extremely dangerous to the success of The relation of this man to the state was felt Iris lawsuit. that the horses. an object of mockery for the streetarabs and loafers. tied the horses to a lamppost. called to carry them off to the knacker's house outside the care and attention. which were now being cared for improbable by the knacker of Dresden. since they lacked any sort of were obliged to take them in toward evening.

Count Kallheim. as a result of the existing circumstances. but in a short and rather curt answer to the President himself the Chancellor begged him not to bother him with private commissions in this matter and advised the Chamberlain to apply to the horse-dealer himself. they showed the same to the Elector. asked Count Kallheim in an embarrassed way whether. whom he described as a very just and modest man. the Chamberlain asked the Elector whether. in consideration of the political importance which the house possessed — one of the oldest and noblest families in the more just and expedient than to arrange a money indemnity for the horses. land — nothing seemed it the answer they had received from the Lord Chancellor. without further to . a few days later. the latter did indeed send a communication to Kohlhaas in which he admonished him not to decline such a proposition should it be made to him. who on the morning day had visited the Chamberlain in his room where he was confined to his bed with his wounds. as was. sent a letter to the Chancellor containing this proposition. The Elector. when the President. after having read the letter. in conformity with the advice of the Lord Chancellor. in the name of the Chamberlain. only waiting for an overture on the part of the Squire or his relatives in order to meet them half-way with perfect willingness and forgiveness for all that had happened. after risking of the following his life to settle this affair according to his sovereign's wishes. but to make this overture entailed too great a sacrifice of dignity on the part of the proud knights. was. The horse-dealer. whose will was. In spite of this.MICHAEL KOHLHAAS 371 which. Very much incensed by being. In a voice rendered weak and pathetic by his condition. he must also expose his honor to the censure of the world and promise before a appear with a request for relenting and comman who had brought every imaginable shame and disgrace on him and his family. had fallen upon the Squire 's family was so great that. broken by the incident which had occurred in the market-place. in fact. who was deterred by his sickness.

The Count answered. turned to their homes — . to muster again on the Bohemian frontier a part of this rabble which was ready to take part in any infamy. Thus stood when from the direction of Liitzen there gathered over poor Kohlhaas another thunder-storm. on the sole basis of a money indemnity. some weeks later. This good- again for-nothing fellow called himself a vicegerent of Kohlhaas. they are dead. and. he had it noised abroad that the amnesty had not been kept in the case of several men who had quietly reindeed that Kohlhaas himself had. and they will be so physically before they can be brought from the knacker's house to the knights' this the Elector. the Tribunal were not authorized to base its decision on the fact that the horses could not be restored to their original condition. had found it expedient. putting the letter in his pocket.372 THE GERMAN CLASSICS communication with Kohlhaas. after lingering a moment to urge him to take care of his health. by the use of familiar methods. even more serious. whose lightning-flash the crafty knights were clever enough to draw down upon the horse-dealer's unlucky head. rose with a very gracious air and left the room." To lain. With a cleverness which he had learned from his master. and partly. affairs in Dresden. they are dead in the sight of the law because they have no value. partly to inspire with fear the officers of the law who were after him. to beguile the country people into participating in his rascalities. He spoke soothingly to the Chamber- stables. and in conformity therewith to draw up the judgment just as if the horses were dead. " Most gracious sovereign. replied that he would himself speak to the Lord Chancellor about it. It so happened that one of the band of men that Kohlhaas had collected and turned off after the appearance of the electoral amnesty. who raised himself on his elbow and seized his hand in gratitude. Johannes Nagelschmidt by name. and to continue on his own account the profession on the track of which Kohlhaas had put him.

in manifestos which were very similar to those of Kohlhaas. He was very merry over the Lord High Chancellor's alleged love of justice. "When the first news of this reached Dresden the knights could not conceal their joy over the occurrence. With wise and displeased allusions they recalled the mistake which had been made when. He carried it so far that. .MICHAEL KOHLHAAS 373 with a faithlessness which cried aloud to heaven. they even expressed the decided opinion that his whole course was nothing but an enterprise contrived by Kohlhaas in order to frighten the government. which. as if those who had been in favor of it had had the deliberate intention of giving to miscreants of all kinds the signal to follow in his footsteps. as we have already said. whose fate was a matter of absolute indifference to the outlaws. but in order to enable them. his incendiary band appeared as an army raised solely for the glory of God and meant to watch over the observance of the amnesty promised by the Elector. to burn and plunder with the greater ease and impunity. by cleverly connecting various circumstances he proved that the band was still extant in the forests of the Electorate and was only waiting for a signal from the horse-dealer to break out anew with fire and sword. and to hasten and insure the rendering of a verdict. courtiers who had gathered round him after dinner in the Elector's antechamber that the breaking up of the marauding band in Liitzen had been but a cursed pretense. Not content with crediting Nagelschmidt's pretext that he had taken up arms merely to lend support and security to his oppressed master. was clone by no means for the glory of God nor out of attachment for Kohlhaas. an amnesty had been granted Kohlhaas. which lent an entirely different aspect to the whole matter. in spite of their urgent and repeated warnings. Sir satisfy his mad obstinacy. All this. been arrested on his arrival in Dresden and placed under a guard. went so far as to declare to some hunting-pages and Hinz. under cover of such dissimulation. point for point. should Indeed the Cup-bearer.

.374 THE GERMAN CLASSICS this turn in affairs. he nevertheless had little difficulty in explaining satisfactorily to so upright a man as the Prince the groundlessness of the accusations brought against him on this score. had arrived the day before with his five children from Mecklenburg. his former follower. for. very much displeased at which threatened to fleck his sover- eign's honor in the most painful manner. need any help as yet from a third in bringing about the decision of his lawsuit.' he did not. begging him to take them along. and handing him the latter 's so-called mandates he told him to produce whatever he had to offer for his vindication. He saw quite it would be to the interest of the knights to ruin Kohlhaas. clearly that Kohlhaas. as the matter person now stood. on the ground of new crimes. and various considerations too intricate to unravel made him carry them with him to the hearing. after looking benevolently at them and asking. with friendly interest. Although the horse-dealer was deeply alarmed by these shameful and traitorous papers. their names and ages. went immediately to the palace to confer with the Elector. When Kohlhaas had Office the started to leave for the Government two boys had burst into childish tears. and he begged the Elector to give him permission to have an immediate judicial examination of the horse-dealer. if possible. Prince Christiern of Meissen. where they had been staying. he had been on the point of having the . some papers which he had with him and showed to the Prince made it appear highly improbable that Nagelschmidt should be inclined to render him help the band of that sort. and the Prince. in his arms for Sternbald. shortly before the dispersion of in Liitzen. decide to pick them up and Kohlhaas placed the children beside him. which was proceeding most favorably. Besides the fact that. appeared with his two little boys. Henry and Leopold. went on to inform Kohlhaas what liberties Nagelschmidt. his servant. was taking in the valleys of the Ore Mountains. somewhat astonished at being conducted to the Government Office by a constable. so far as he could observe.

who nevertheless recognized the danger that was threatening the horse-dealer. after presenting to the boys some fruit that was on his table. and. as already stated.MICHAEL KOHLHAAS 375 fellow hanged for a rape committed in the open country. they had been obliged to express in this hearing. was exactly what the diplomatic knights desired and . he went on to declare that. The Lord High Chancellor. . were also appended to the letter to enlighten the people concerning the good-for-nothing fellow. Kohlhaas. while he remained in Dresden. and on the next day they had parted as mortal enemies. he gave him over to the full vengeance of the law for the outrages which he had committed in the Ore Mountains after the publication of the amnesty. saluted Kohlhaas. He told him that. also that his lawsuit was progressing exactly as he wished. as it had severed all relations between them. he shook hands with them once more. who even at that time had been destined for the gallows. however. and dismissed him. with the Prince's approval of the idea. sat down and wrote a letter to Nagelschmidt in which he declared that the latter 's pretense of having taken the field in order to maintain the amnesty which had been violated with regard to him and his band. he had neither been imprisoned nor handed over to a guard. the amnesty granted him should not be violated in any way then. In consequence of this letter the Prince appeased Kohlhaas' displeasure at the suspicion which. as a warning for the rabble who had gathered around Nagelschmidt. and. had only been saved by the edict issued by the Elector. was a disgraceful and vicious fabrication. Some portions of the criminal prosecution which the horse-dealer had instituted against him in the castle at Liitzen on account of the above-mentioned dis- graceful acts. on his arrival in Dresden. and other rascalities. did his utmost to bring his lawsuit to an end before it should be complicated and confused by new developments this. of necessity. Only the appearance of the electoral amnesty had saved Nagelschmidt. .

the black horses belonging to Kohlhaas had been detained at Tronka Castle on the arbitrary authority of the castellan and the steward. the animals had been suffering from a violent and dangerous cough. . Kohlhaas. to them. of their actions. meanwhile. in which determination. had bought back his farm at Kohlhaasenbriick from the honest bailiff. apparently in connection with the legal settlement of this business. in which the importation of horses from Brandenburg into Saxony had actually been forThis bidden. on account of a plague among the cattle. He may perhaps also have been influenced by reasons of still another kind which we will leave to every one who is acquainted with his own heart to divine. if anything. as and obtaining merely a less severe sentence. Forced to withdraw these arguments after many long-drawn-out investigations and explanations. the above-mentioned matter of business. In pursuance of this resolve he betook himself to the Lord Chancellor.376 THE GERMAN CLASSICS at. and that the Squire had known little. Instead of silently acknowledging their guilt. they now began with pettifogging and crafty subterfuges to deny Sometimes they pretended that this guilt itself entirely. and explained that if. He carried with him the letters from the he bailiff. however. At other times they declared that. imperative as it may actually have been on account of sowing the winter crops. as seemed to be the case. undoubtedly played less part than the intention of testing his position under such unusual and critical circumstances. they even cited an electoral edict of twelve years before. according that the Squire not only had the authority. even on their arrival at the castle. to hold up the horses that Kohlhaas had brought across the border. He wished. in confirmation of the fact. aimed at first. in return for a small compensation for the loss sustained. made it as clear as day circumstance. to leave Dresden for some days home. and. but also was under obligation. they referred to witnesses whom they pledged themselves to produce. leaving behind the guard which had been and return to his assigned to him.

. was only strengthened in his determination. and with modest importunity persisted in his request. a cousin of the gentleman of the same name who has been already mentioned. The Lord High Chancellor. who could read the Lord Chancellor's face perfectly. that he hoped that Kohlhaas would apply passports. after a pause. the Lord Chancellor. said briefly. Baron Siegfried Wenk. to Prince Christiern of Meissen for Kohlhaas. he would like to leave the city and go to Brandenburg for a week or ten days. In reply to this letter he received a cabinet order signed by the Governor of the Palace. as he dismissed him. However.MICHAEL KOHLHAAS 377 were not urgently needed in court. Baron Siegfried Wenk. who was well informed concerning the lawsuit. He sat down immediately and. replied that he must acknowledge that Kohlhaas presence was more necessary just then than ever. he was told that the Prince had set out for his estates three days before. and during his absence the affairs of the Government Office had been put in the to hands of the Governor of the Palace. looking down with a displeased and dubious expression. when Kohlhaas referred him to his lawyer. within which time he promised to be back again. to furnish him passports for a week's journey to Kohlhaasenbriick and back. to the effect that his request for passports to Kohlhaasenbriick would be laid before his serene highness the Elector. Siegfried Wenk. promising to ' confine his absence to a week. without giving any reason. and not by Prince Christiern of Meissen sent to him. whom he had applied. as head of the Government Office. asked the Prince of Meissen. on account of the prevaricating and tricky tactics of the opposition. required his statements and explanations at a thousand points that could not be foreseen. and as soon as his gracious consent had been received the passports would be When Kohlhaas inquired of his lawyer how the cabinet order came to be signed by a certain Baron. as the court.

whose heart was beginning to beat uneasily amid all these complications. which had likewise passed without the expected answer. however. adding that it really did not matter. Sir. sat down and. distributed themselves around the whole house when it began to grow dark. for just at that moment the guard was actually being changed . without the arrival of this decision. two are at the back door in the garden. on the twelfth day. Luther. On the evening of the following day. and convinced himself of the truth of the circumstance of which the old man had informed him. nor had judgment been pronounced by the Tribunal. firmly resolved to force the government to proclaim its intentions toward him. of whom more today than usual. when. Then he opened the shutter of the front window under the pretext of emptying a vessel. the old porter. to him and asked what it meant. provided they were still there. Kohlhaas. let them be what they would. once more asked the Government Office for the desired passports. he was walking up and down.378 THE GERMAN CLASSICS Kohlhaas." Kohlhaas grew pale and turned away. in an urgent request. on approaching the window of his little back room. A week passed. although it had been definitely promised him. Finally. He called Thomas. and two others are lying on a truss of straw in the vestibule and say that they are going to sleep there. and more than a week. and that when Thomas went down into the corridor he should place a light so that the soldiers could see. thoughtfully considering his position and especially the amnesty procured for him by Dr. he was astonished not to see the soldiers in the little out-building on the courtyard which he had designated as quarters for the guard assigned him by the Prince of Meissen at the time of his arrival. The latter answered with a something is wrong! The soldiers. two with shield and spear are standing in the street before the sigh. waited several days for the decision concerning his petition which had been laid before the person of the sovereign with such a surprising amount of formality. " there are front door.

in passing. a government clerk appeared at the head of several constables and went into the house opposite. to drive to Lockwitz — — an old acquaintance of his. As soon as he saw that the arrangements of the police were completed. a few minutes later. while in reality it was violating in his case the amnesty promised him. as he explained. likewise noticed the commotion and to see the steward. After which. were to remain behind with the daughter of the old porter. Kohlhaas. who. his groom. who was occupied in dressing his boys. For nothing in the course of the government with which he was dealing displeased him more than this outward form of justice. at earliest dawn he had Sternbald. putting their heads together. intending. He had no sooner climbed up on the wagon himself than the government clerk. then he lifted the boys into the wagon and kissed and comforted the weeping little girls who. stepped up from the . a precaution which had never before entered any one's head as long as the arrangement had existed. having made up his mind immediately what he would do on the morrow. The soldiers. with the constables who accompanied him. to the group of intentionally kept the soldiers standing in the doorway that they did not need to follow him. without paying any attention to them he came out before the house with his children. to be sure. he felt little desire to sleep. secretly sent off one of their number to the city and. and in case he were to be considered as could no longer be doubted he really a prisoner intended to wring from the government the definite and straightforward statement that such was the case. harness his wagon and drive up to the door. had watched the stir which these preparations were causing in the household. who had met him a few days before in Dresden and had invited him and his children to visit him some time. in obe- dience to his orders. wagon waiting in front of the house longer than was really necessary. though.MICHAEL KOHLHAAS 379 without a sound. pretending to have some business there. He said. In accordance with this plan. Kohlhaas. went to bed.

his seat who was his at that moment head of the police force. The clerk assured him that the orders of the Governor of the Palace. the steward. that on his arrival in Dresden the Prince of Meissen had left it to his own choice whether he would make use of the guard or not. Kohlhaas threw a significant glance at the clerk and. With a beating heart he got down from the wagon. Baron Wenk. joking way that the danger was certainly not very great. and while his servant remained before the house with the wagon. It happened that the Governor of the Palace. Kohlhaas went off to the Government Office. the horsedealer related to him the incident which had led to the placing of the soldiers in his house. as some mounted soldiers would accompany him in obedience to the order of the Prince of Meissen. The official answered in a pleasant. said that he would do so. Baron Wenk. who a few days before had invited his two boys to visit him in the country. determined to put an end to the matter by hook or by crook.380 THE GERMAN CLASSICS opposite house and asked where he was going. Kohlhaas replied. From on the wagon Kohlhaas asked smilingly whether he thought that his life would not be safe in the house of a friend who had offered to entertain him at his table for a day. To the answer of Kohlhaas that he was going to Lockwitz to see him and replied his friend. and as the clerk seemed surprised at this circumstance and with carefully chosen phrases reminded him that he had employed the guard during the whole time of his presence in the city. to go to the Government Office himself so as to correct the mistake which must exist in the matter. seriously. if he would not consent to the escort. had the porter carry the children back into the corridor. accompanied by the clerk and his guard. the clerk that in that case Kohlhaas must wait a few moments. made it duty to watch over Kohlhaas' person continually. and begged him. adding that the soldiers were not to incommode him in any way. was busy at the moment inspecting a band of .

stepping close Yes up to him and looking him in the eyes. and expressed the wish to be allowed whom he had no need. When he reached . and that the latter must not leave the city unless accompanied by six mounted soldiers. his face turning suddenly a fiery red. since he was now. went up to him and asked him what he wanted. likewise released from obligation to observe the conditions of the amnesty. answered. and whether he should consider that the amnesty which had been solemnly promised to him before the eyes of the whole world had been broken. and told him that the order which he had given him with regard to this man held good. Kohlhaas asked whether he were a prisoner. changing of a different nature. The Baron. The knights who were with the Governor were just questioning the fellows about a great manythings which the government was anxious to learn from them. With that he turned to the clerk. and although he realized that the steps he had taken had rendered much more difficult the only means of rescue that remained. returned to Nagelschmidt 's ' ' ! followers. when the horse-dealer entered the room with his escort. wheeled around and. flight. answered that Kohlhaas would do to leave behind the soldiers of well to stay quietly at home and to postpone for the present the feast at the Lockwitz steward's. the color and seeming to swallow some words Baron. Yes! Yes! " Then he turned his back upon him and.MICHAEL KOHLHAAS 381 Nagelschmidt 's followers who had been captured in the neighborhood of Leipzig and brought to Dresden the previous evening. thus cutting short the whole conversation. he nevertheless was glad he had done as he had. At which the Baron. on his part. When Kohlhaas had respectfully submitted to him his purpose of going to dine with the steward at Lockwitz. leaving Kohlhaas standing there. At this Kohlhaas left the room. namely. as soon as he caught sight of Kohlhaas. while the knights grew suddenly silent and interrupted the interrogation of the prisoners.

at a sign from him. entirely deprived. At the same time he promised Kohlhaas that. men to him with a letter. the misunderstanding constables. assured him that it must all be due to a which would shortly be cleared up. he. in the future. he would be more obedient and in general better and more orderly than he had been before and to prove his faithfulness and devotion he pledged himself to come in person to the outskirts of Dresden in order to effect Kohlhaas' deliverance from his from the remnants of his . he believed that. men. and money. In this . While this man. bolted all the exits which led from the house into the courtyard. in a way which aroused the horsedealer's disgust. was ready to assist him to escape from his imprisonment in Dresden by furnishing him with horses. in a village close to Dresden. Nagelschmidt. he could persuade the horse-dealer to enter into a He therefore sent off one of his alliance with him. written in almost unreadable German. of the necessary means of carrying through a role of the kind which he had undertaken. and. At the same time the clerk assured Kohlhaas that the main entrance at the front of the house still remained open and that he could use it as he pleased. to be seized with a violent fit. such as he had been subject to from childhood. that. to the effect that if he would come to Altenburg and resume command of the band which had gathered there new former troops who had been dispersed. very sad and shaken. as he was.382 THE GERMAN CLASSICS home he had the horses unharnessed. As a traveler passing that way had informed him fairly accurately of the status of Kohlhaas lawsuit in Dresden. meanwhile. prison. had been so hard pushed on all sides by constables and soldiers in the woods of the Ore Mountains. in spite of the open enmity which existed between ' them. he hit upon the idea of inducing Kohlhaas to take sides with him in reality. The fellow charged with delivering this letter had the bad luck. Nagelschmidt. went to his room accompanied by the government clerk.

commanded him to deliver was taken to the Government Office the the letter to the horse-dealer as though nothing had happened.MICHAEL KOHLHAAS 383 situation. who had been thrown into prison. had read this letter. the letter which he was carrying in his vest was found by the persons who came to his assistance the man himself. promising him freedom and the remission of the punishment which he had incurred. ting fresh iniquities. They went on to demonstrate that such a letter could not have been written unless there had been preceding letters written by the horsedealer. just as though he had not been arrested. to the President's proposition to have the letter delivered to Kohlhaas by the man whom Nagelschmidt had sent. As was to be expected. and that it would inevitably result in a wicked and criminal union of their forces for the purpose of plot. the fellow lent himself to this low trick without hesitation. These gentlemen were of the opinion that Kohlhaas should be arrested without delay and brought to trial on the charge of secret complicity with Nagelschmidt. As soon as the Governor of the Palace. Wenk. though only after long hesitation. and see whether Kohlhaas would answer it. and all he would do to clear up the matter was to assent. the safe-conduct he had solemnly promised to Kohlhaas. In accordance with this plan the man. and the lords Kunz and Hinz. accompanied by a large crowd of people. was arrested and transported to the Government Office under guard. as soon as he had recovered. next morning. The Elector steadfastly refused to violate. too. he went immediately to the palace to see the Elector here he found present also the President of the Chancery of State. The Governor of the Palace gave him back the letter and. the former of whom had recovered from his wounds. merely on the ground of this letter. He was more inclined to believe that Nagelschmidt 's letter made it rather probable that no previous connection had existed between them. In apparently mysterious fashion he gained admission to Kohlhaas' room under the . Count Kallheim. .

Also that. and as he was fully convinced that nothing in the world could rescue him from the affair in which he was entangled. he was sending Nagelschmidt by his follower a roll of twenty gold crowns concerning the expenditure of which he would settle with him after the affair was concluded. Nagelschmidt 's presence being unnecessary. he . in reality. Nagelschmidt should send him a wagon with two horses to Neustadt near Dresden. even this step was likewise capable of an equivocal interpretation. capable. and that accordingly. to facilitate progress. For the rest. had the circumstances been other than they were. Kohlhaas sat down and wrote a letter to Nagelschmidt to the follow" First. But since. and bade him return in a few hours' time. he would need another team of two horses on the road to Wittenberg. in the existing state of men's minds. and well-armed men in the suburb of Neustadt.384 THE GERMAN CLASSICS pretext of having crabs to sell. with which. the government clerk had supplied him in the market. who happened to enter the door. to buy some crabs from the man in the room. He thought that he would be able to win over by bribery the soldiers who were guarding him. but in case force were necessary he would like to know that he could count on the presence of a couple of stout-hearted. who read the letter while the children were playing with the crabs. that he accepted his proposition coning effect: cerning the leadership of his band in Altenburg. would certainly have seized the imposter by the collar and handed him over to the soldiers standing before his door. was the only one he could take to come to him. He told Sternbald. To defray the expenses connected with all these preparations. and when this business was concluded and both men had gone away without recognizing each other. asked him where he lived. when he would inform him of his decision in regard to his master. Kohlhaas. which way. in order to free him from the present arrest in which he was held with his five children. though roundabout. for reasons which it would require too much time to explain. he gazed sadly into the familiar face of the fellow.

or the most distant land where the blue sky stretched For his heart. even apart from the reluctance that he felt in making common cause with Nagelschmidt to that end. Sir Heinrich von Geusau. he gave him the definite order ' ' to come in to Dresden remain behind in Altenburg in provisional command of band which could not be left without a leader. to be drawn and quartered. which was posted at every street-corner of the city. He was therefore condemned to be tortured with red-hot pincers by knacker's men. and. was appointed Chief Justice of the Tribunal in his stead. Kohlhaas' intention was to go to Hamburg with his five children and there to take ship for the Levant. IV — . and thrown into the He was brought to trial upon the basis of this city tower. in a note Chancery of State in Dresden. rather. and his body to be burned between the wheel and the gallows. he delivered this letter to him. "Yes. rewarded him liberally. claimed him as a subject of Brandenburg. Count Kallheim. heavily loaded with chains. When the man returned toward evening. the President. he answered. letter. above people other than those he knew.MICHAEL KOHLHAAS would ask him not to 385 to assist person at his rescue — nay. Thus stood matters with poor Kohlhaas in Dresden when the Elector of Brandenburg appeared to rescue him from ' ' ' ' laid before the the clutches of arbitrary. and Kohlhaas was arrested by a special order of the Elector. had renounced the hope of ever seeing the black horses fattened. For the honest City Governor. bowed down by grief. the East Indies." but to the question as to whether he had anything to say in his defense. Hardly had the fellow delivered this answer of the horsedealer's to the Governor of the Palace when the Lord High Chancellor was deposed. and impressed the upon him that he must take good care of it. superior power. during a walk on the banks 25 Vol. No. he looked down at the ground and replied. When a councilor held it up before Kohlhaas at the bar of the Tribunal and asked whether he acknowledged the handwriting.

the King of at odds with the House of Saxony. he might be tried according to the laws of Brandenburg on charges which the Dresden Court might bring against him through an attorney at Berlin. The Elector was extremely indignant about the matter and after he had called the Arch-Chancellor to account and found that the relationship which he bore to the house of the Tronkas was to blame for it all. Therefore the Arch-Chancellor did not content himself with demanding. for what Poland. being it Now so happened occasion we do not know. that. he could not avoid mentioning the blame which lay heavy upon the latter 's own person through the unwarranted actions of his Arch-Chancellor. without imperiling the peace of the whole state to a greater extent than consideration for an individual warrants. on the score of wholly arbitrary procedure. displeasing to God and man. the Arch-Chancellor. he deposed Count Kallheim at once. Count Siegfried von Kallheim. if guilty of a crime. but Sir Heinrich von Geusau even went so far as himself to demand passports for an attorney whom the Elector of Brandenburg wished to send to Dresden in order to secure justice for Kohlhaas against Squire Wenzel Tronka on account of the black horses which had been taken from him on Saxon . that Kohlhaas should be unconditionally and immediately surrendered. just at that time. on which occasion. who was not unskilful in such matters. THE GERMAN CLASSICS had acquainted the Elector with the story of this strange and irreprehensible man. and appointed Sir Heinrich von Geusau to be Arch-Chancellor in his stead.386 of the Spree. approached the Elector of Bran- denburg with repeated and urgent arguments to induce him to make common cause with them against the House of Saxony. in consequence of this. so that. pressed by the questions of the astonished sovereign. Sir Geusau. and. he would now be able to fulfil his sovereign's desire to secure justice for Kohlhaas at any cost whatever. might very well hope that. with more than one token of his displeasure.

Sir Kunz. As they could not refer to Kohlhaas' fatal letter to Nagelschmidt because of the questionable and obscure circumstances under which it had been . in the shifting of public offices in Saxony.MICHAEL KOHLHAAS 387 territory and other flagrant instances of ill-usage and acts of violence. hard pressed as he was. summoned Prince Christiern of Meissen from his estate. that they wondered at the unfriendliness and unreasonableness which had prompted the government of Brandenburg to contest the right of the Dresden Court to judge Kohlhaas according to their laws for the crimes which he had committed in the land. desired. and as the Arch-Chancellor. and he did not himself dispute his qualification as a Saxon citizen. to surrender Kohlhaas to the Court of Berlin in accordance with their demand. was situated in Brandenburg. and that they would consider the execution of the sentence of death which had been pronounced upon him to be a violation of international law. for a variety of reasons. upon the advice of the Chamberlain. had been appointed President of the State Chancery. although very much displeased with the unseemly blunders which had been committed. as it was known to all the world that the latter owned a considerable piece of property in the capital. who. who wished to back out of the affair. asked the Elector what charge he now wished to have lodged against the horse-dealer in the Supreme Court at Berlin. the place after which the horse-dealer was named. not to offend the Court of Berlin. was forced to take over the conduct of the Kohlhaas affair at the wish of his hard-pressed master. Sir Heinrich von Greusau. the Elector of Saxony. declared that Kohlhaasenbriick. who had been very greatly cast down by the note he had received. But as the King of Poland was already assembling an army of five thousand men on the frontier of Saxony to fight for his claims. and. after a few words with this sagacious nobleman. He therefore answered in the name of his sovereign. and decided. The Chamberlain. The Prince. Sir Kunz himself.

still covered with the dust of the hunt. since he was of course not bound by any amnesty. Sir Kunz. accompanied by the Chamberlain. Count Aloysius of Kallheim. nor mention the former plundering and burning because of the edict in which the same had been par- doned. Empire. and to solicit His Majesty. when Kohlhaas with his escort of troopers came riding slowly along the road from Dresden. who was his escort. was transported to It so happened that the Elector of Saxony. . erected on a hill over against the highroad. still in chains. served by pages. who at that time possessed a large estate on the border of Saxony. Having to answer for this act only to the Prince whom he served. to call Kohlhaas to account therefor before the Court Tribunal at Berlin through an attorney of the A week later the into a the Elector of wagon by Brandenburg had horse-dealer. was sitting at table. together with his five children. and. and. had organized a large stag-hunt there. to delay three whole days in Herzberg. while lively music sounded from the trunk of an oak-tree. was packed the Knight Friedrich of Malzahn. had gone to Dahme at the invitation of the High Bailiff. whom sent to Dresden at the head of who at his request six troopers. the Elector determined to lay before the Emperor's Majesty at Vienna a report concerning the armed invasion of Saxony by Kohlhaas. and his wife. had been collected from various found- ling hospitals Berlin. to entertain the Elector. daughter of the High Bailiff and sister of the President. the whole company.388 THE GERMAN CLASSICS written. not to mention other brilliant ladies and gentlemen. The sudden illness of one of Kohlhaas* delicate young children had obliged the Knight of Malzahn. The Elector. to make complaint concerning the violation of the public peace established by the Emperor. Lady Heloise. Under the shelter of tents gaily decorated with pennons. the Knight had not thought it necessary to inform the government of Saxony of the delay. hunting-pages and courtiers. and orphan asylums.

passed slowly under the tent ropes that were stretched across the highroad and continued on his way to Dahme. he intended to spend the night in the place. The him having put him in he said. The entire company had already left the tent in a body. flushing scarlet. was seated beside Lady Heloise. whoever he may be. when the High Bailiff came toward them and with an embarrassed air begged them to remain where they were. wine to the unfortunate man. In answer to the Elector 's disconcerted question as to what had happened that he should show such confusion. which lay off the main road. and while the Knight. that it was Kohlhaas who was in the wagon. As soon as the Elector had sat down again. the High Bailiff dispatched a messenger secretly to Dahme intending to have the magistrate of that place see to it that the horse-dealer continued his journey immediately. his plumed hat decorated with sprigs of fir. but since the Knight of Malzahn declared positively that. stammering. as is the way of hunters. Let us go and offer this goblet of good humor. plundering the whole table. got at once. returned to the tent without taking any further notice of the party. poured out his glass of wine on the ground. the High Bailiff turned toward the Chamberlain and answered. respectfully saluting the company. who had been the first love of his early youth. held out to him for this purpose. The Elector. who were unknown to him. turning back toward the tent. . filled a silver dish which a page handed her with fruit. the Chamberlain. as the day was too far gone. the lords and ladies. carrying refreshments of every kind. at the invitation of the High Bailiff. as it was well known that the horse-dealer had set out six days before. they had to be content to lodge Kohlhaas quietly at a farm-house belonging to the magistrate. and bread. casting an entrancing glance at him." charm of the fete which surrounded ' ' Lady up Heloise. set his glass down on a plate which a page. Friedrich von Malzahn. at a sign from the Chamberlain. At this piece of news. cakes. and.MICHAEL KOHLHAAS 389 with throat half bare. which none of the company could understand. hidden away among the bushes. Sir Kunz.

Highness. " Before the crowd follows us let us slip into the farm-house and have a look at the singular man who is spending the night here. and after they had provided themselves with guns fully. Lady Heloise asked him who he of the incident ' ' ! ' ' ! Now . went off in pairs. and thy throne is a beautiful woman's mouth Kohlhaas was sitting just then on a bundle of straw with his back against the wall. over ditches and hedges. neither the Knight nor the horse-dealer knew what company was assembled in the neighborhood of Dahme. moreover. come! playfully concealing inside his silken vest the chain which hung around his neck she added. and as. on account of an arrangement made by the High Bailiff. Thus it was that the Elector and Lady Heloise. looking at him with amazement. " Folly. when Lady Heloise and the Elector entered the farm-house to visit him. and announced that in truth. led by a messenger who had been placed at their service. were. that the High Bailiff proposed they should again lie in wait for a herd of stags which had shown itself in the The whole company took up the suggestion joyvicinity." The Elector blushed and seized her hand exclaiming. to their great astonishment. feeding bread and milk to his child who had been taken ill at Herzberg. thou rulest the world. when all recollection had been driven from the minds of the lords and ladies by the wine and the abundant dessert they had enjoyed. pulled him along and assured him that no one would ever recognize him in the hunting-costume he had on. who was hanging on his arm in order to watch the sport. the Elector pulled his hat down over his eyes with a smile and said. To start the conversation. at this very moment a couple of huntingpages who had already satisfied their curiosity came out of the house. directly across the court of the house in which Kohlhaas and the Brandenburg When Lady Heloise was informed troopers were lodged. Heloise What are you thinking of ? " But as she.390 THE GERMAN CLASSICS it came about toward evening. into the near-by forest. " and " Your of this she cried.

" Oh. really to make room for the curious than out of curiosity . and. yes. Kohlhaas answered. who factory answers to all these questions. remarked a little leaden locket hanging on a silk string around the horsedealer's neck. made laconic but satisThe Elector. continuing his occupation. but as I was standing at the entrance of a church. also what crime he had committed and where they were taking him with such an escort. They came upon a gipsy who was sitting on a streets of the stool. it. to whisper to one another laughingly that she did not impart her knowledge to every one.MICHAEL KOHLHAAS 391 was and what was the matter with the child. I could not hear what the The people began strange woman said to the two lords. It may be some seven months ago. as you perhaps I had left Kohlhaasenbriick in order to get possesknow. and happened to be present in the square where this incident occurred. Kohlhaas doffed his leather cap to her and. from the calendar the fortunes of the crowd The two sovereigns asked her jok- ingly if she did not have something pleasing to reveal to them too? I had just dismounted with my troop at an inn. walking in friendly conversation through the town in order to take a look at the annual which was just being held there with much merrymaking. telling that surrounded her. he asked him what it signified and what was in it. was standing behind the hunting-pages. As they had they were fair settled it to their liking shortly before evening. since no better topic of conversation offered itself. the Elector of Saxony and the Elector of — Brandenburg had met to discuss I know not what matter. strange tale connected with this locket. ' ' ! — sion of Squire Tronka. this locket and with that he slipped it from his neck. and to crowd together more to see the spectacle which was preparing. behind all the people. " There is a sealed with a wafer. opened and took out a little piece of paper with writing on it. who had done me great wrong that in the market-town of Jiiterbock. so that I. on the very day after my wife's funeral and. worshipful Sir. through which my expedition led me.

" words the Elector seated himself on a bench. But hardly had I caught sight of them. some day it will save and vanished. who was sitting on the stool before them appa- rently scribbling something down. as paper. she stretched out her thin bony hands to me and gave me this All the people turned around in my direction. after repeated . amazed. " nothing at all! yet. I made my own name. who had been summoned height when the Chamberlain. 'An amulet. he had sunk down unconscious — to the floor. declared. when suddenly she got up. exclaimed. gazing around' at the people. close as was the call in good-naturedly. Kohlhaas the horse-dealer. however. Grandam. to my great surprise. take good care of it. your Worship. I did not lose my life. the future At these must show. he may ask you about it! And with these words. I said. sense. who had never exchanged a word with her nor ever my life consulted her art. out ' ! — ' ' Dresden. leaning on her crutches. what in the world is this you are giving me? After mumbling a lot of inaudible nonin all ' ! ' ' ' amid which. and the consternation reached its " Lady Heloise cried. fixed her eye on me. she said. she answered. he answered. Pushing her way over to If the me through the dense crowd. moment on some is The Knight of Malzahn who entered the room at this " Good errand. and. what the matter with the gentleman! " Bring some water!" The hunting-pages raised the Elector and carried him to a bed in the next room. I could see with perfect ease the two sovereigns and the old woman. before she could spring forward and catch him in her arms. and although to Lady Heloise's frightened question as to what was the matter with him. climbed on a bench behind me which was carved From this point of vantage in the entrance of the church.392 THE GERMAN CLASSICS on my part. " Nothing. Kohlhaas continued your life to tell the truth. by a page. heavens. There gentleman wishes to know his fortune. Well. but how I shall fare in Berlin and whether the charm will help me out there too.

as the latter. and his very first question was. however.MICHAEL KOHLHAAS 393 vain efforts to restore him to consciousness. was to blame for the whole unpleasant incident which had befallen him. if this piece of paper had any value for ' ' . then suddenly. as the Elector opened his eyes. the Chamberlain went on to ask what could have occurred during the interview to affect his master so strangely and profoundly. The Elector answered that he was obliged to confess to him that the sight of an insignificant piece of paper. misunderstanding the question. The Cupbearer sent a mounted messenger to Luckau for the doctor. had by his order remained behind in the farm-house at Dahme with the escort from Brandenburg. this journey. assured him that. he added a variety of other things which the Chamberlain could not understand. he assured him that the possession of this paper was of the utmost importance to himself and begged Sir Kunz to mount immediately. ride to Dahme. soon as he had returned to consciousness he raised himself Where is on his elbow. which the man carried about with him in a leaden locket. and protesting that he had most bitterly reproached his wife for her inexcusable indiscretion in bringing about a meeting between him and this man. caused two more fainting spells after he had arrived there. the High Bailiff had him placed in a carriage and transported at a walk to his hunting-castle near-by. To explain the circumstance. Kohlhaas? " The Chamberlain. said. and purchase the paper for him from the horse-dealer at any price. The Chamberlain. as he took his hand. on the arrival of the doctor from Luckau. though showing As definite symptoms of an approaching nervous fever. that he might set his heart at rest on the subject of that horrible man. clasping the latter 's hand in his own. Not until late the next morning. Assuring the Elector of his most lively sympathy. after that strange and incomprehensible incident. that he showed every sign of having been struck by apoplexy. and then. who had difficulty in concealing his embarrassment. did he recover somewhat.

cast several At this. through the instrumentality of a third wholly disinterested person. Stein. nothing in the world was more necessary than to confrom Kohlhaas. as the miscreant probtry ably was not especially attached to it for its own sake. and that. The Chamberlain. or actually to put a stop to it altowould give rise to difficulties of the most unpleasant gether. the horse-dealer must already have left Dahme and be across the border on the soil of Brandenburg. whose obligingness he distrusted on this occasion. To calm his master he added that they must to find another method. with his heart beating tumultuously. As the Elector silently sank back on the pillow with a look of utter despair. or even to such as it might perchance be impossible to overcome at all. He lay there rigid. the Chamberlain asked him what the paper contained and by what surprising and inexplicable chance he knew that the his being carried contents concerned himself. replied that unhappily. Suddenly he begged the Chamberlain to call to his room the hunting-page. it sessed would not be sufficient to buy perhaps. and looked down at the corner of the handkerchief which he was holding in his hands as if lost in thought. and intricate kind. which was of so much importance to the Elector. they had obtained possession of the paper. asked if they could not send immediately to Dahme for this purpose and put a stop to the horse-dealer's being transported further for the present until. any attempt to interfere there with away. by using stratagem. an active. all the riches the Elector posceal the fact from the hands of this vindictive fellow. wiping away the perspiration. by some means or other. the Elector ambiguous glances at the Chamberlain. whose passion for revenge was insatiable. and gave no answer. according to all probable calculations. they might get possession of the paper. who could hardly believe his senses. The Elector. however.394 THE GERMAN CLASSICS him. for if the latter should receive an indiscreet intimation of it. clever young gentleman whom he had often employed before in affairs of a secret .

where with his five children and the Knight of Malzahn he was eating dinner in the open air before the door of a house. and since Malzahn. and by not sparing the horses' wind he had the good luck to overtake Kohlhaas in a village on the border. was obliged to keep coming and going continually. did immediately set out with several men. he assured his master that he would serve him to the utmost of his ability. he should. and the troopers were eating their dinner at a table on the other side of the house. the hunting-page soon found an opportunity to reveal to the horse-dealer who he was and on what a peculiar mission he had come to him. Stein should. proffer him life and freedom in exchange for the paper indeed. the Elector asked him whether he wished to win an eternal right to his friendship by procuring this paper for him before the horse-dealer reached Berlin. give him direct assistance in escaping from the hands of the Brandenburg troopers who wT ere convoying him. The hunting-page. The hunting-page introduced himself to the Knight of Malzahn as a stranger who was passing by and wished to have a look at the extraordinary man whom he was escorting. and money. busied with the preparations for their departure. in a cleverly conducted conversation. As soon as the page had to some extent grasped the situation. though with all — possible caution. by furnishing him with horses. if Kohlhaas insisted upon it.MICHAEL KOHLHAAS nature. under 395 tlie pretense that he had some other business with him. The Knight at once made him acquainted with Kohlhaas and politely urged him to sit down at the table. . and as it would probably be impossible to approach him with money. unusual though it was. to negotiate After he had explained the matter to the hunting-page and impressed upon him the importance of the paper which was in Kohlhaas' possession. The Elector therefore charged him to ride after Kohlhaas. after procuring as a credential a paper written by the Elector's own hand. men.

and should say to him. for many reasons. after several weeks spent in pain on the sickbed. in consideration of the ungenerous and unprincely treatment he had been forced to endure in Dresden in re- man who. He answered that. he recovered sufficiently. and not until he climbed up on the wagon did he turn around to the hunting-page again and salute him with a parting glance. Sir. . Kohlhaas answered. with death staring him in the face. the dearest wish that my soul cherishes. he was determined not to open out of mere curiosity. he would keep the paper.' I should nevertheless still — more to him than refuse to give him the paper which is worth You have the life. . he needed only an insight into the secrets contained in the paper which. All the rest of the hour which he spent in the place he acted as though he did not see the young nobleman who was sitting at the table. question as to what induced him to make such an extraordinary refusal when he was offered in exchange nothing " Noble less than life and liberty.396 THE GERMAN CLASSICS The horse-dealer already knew the name and rank of the at sight of the locket in question. you understand. to permit his being placed in a carriage well supplied with pillows and coverings. turn for his complete willingness to make every possible To the hunting-page's sacrifice. but I can cause you " And with these words pain. Myself and the whole company of those who help me wield my sceptre ' I will destroy destroy. government once more. and I intend to do so Kohlhaas. life. and brought back to Dresden to take up the affairs of grave fears for his sides at once. had swooned in the farm-house at Dahme and to put the finishing touch to the tumult of excitement into which this discovery had thrown him. I admit. if your sovereign should come to me and say. called a trooper to him and told him to take a nice bit of food which had been left in the dish. which is. When the Elector received this news his condition grew so much worse that for three fateful days the doctor had which was being attacked on so However. thanks to his naturally good many constitution. ' ' ! authority to send me to the scaffold. at least.

whom the government had thought of sending to Vienna as its attorney in the Kohlhaas affair. that earlier in the affair.MICHAEL KOHLHAAS As soon as he had arrived in the city he 397 summoned Prince Christiern of Meissen and asked him what had been done about dispatching Judge Eibenmaier. who had procured the amnesty for Kohlhaas. Luther. Luther. The Prince answered that the Judge. The Prince. he wished to postpone the final departure of Eibenmaier until he should give a more At the same time. Wenzel Tronka in flushed and walked over to his desk. ing surprise he had made it clear that because of the necessity for a The Elector preliminary consultation with Dr. Zauner. answered that he was sorry if he had failed to give him satisfaction in this matter. in conformity with the order the Elector had left behind on his departure for Dahme. however. after a pause during which he stared in surprise at his master. expressat this haste. he could show the decision of the Council of State enjoining him to send off the attorney at the time mentioned. with an explicit and definite order. since. now that the promised amnesty had been violated before the eyes of the world and Kohlhaas had been arrested and surrendered to the Brandenburg courts to be sentenced and executed. he tossed about some letters and deeds which were lying on his desk. in order to lay a complaint before his Imperial Majesty concerning the violation of the public peace proclaimed by the Emperor. had set out for Vienna immediately after the arrival of the jurist. expression of restrained anger. He added that in the Council of State nothing at all had been said of a consultation with Dr. but that this was no longer the case. . whom the Elector of Brandenburg had sent to Dresden as his attorney in order to institute legal proceedings against Squire regard to the black horses. it would perhaps have been expedient to pay some regard to this reverend gentleman because of his intervention in Kohlhaas' behalf. to his certain knowledge.

as the Brandenburg attorney. it is of no importance. according to a report which had just arrived that day." and turning around again toward the Prince asked indifferently how other things were going in Dresden and what had occurred during his absence. said. on account of the political importance of the affair. the Prince added. possible dispatch immediately after delay. as Eibenmaier. had already acted in his capacity as plaintiff and had proceeded with the presentation of the complaint at the State Chancery in Vienna. the latter should not act in Vienna in his official capacity as plaintiff for Saxony. this order came just one day too late. however. ringing the bell. that. for the present. Then. In answer to the Elector's dismayed question as to how all this was possible in so short a time. mand That very same day the Elector sent him a written defor all the official documents concerning Kohlhaas. unfortunately. under the pretext that. As he could not bear to think of destroying the man from whom . The Elector. in fact. in spite of all the arguments of the opposite side. was proceeding against Squire Wenzel Tronka with the most stubborn persistence and had already petitioned the court for the provisional removal of the black horses from the hands of the knacker have been all the with a view to their future restoration to good condition. and begged the Prince to send off to him immediately by a courier the instructions necessary to this end. would A more inadvisable in this case. ' ' No matter .398 THE GERMAN CLASSICS in dis- The Elector replied that the error committed patching Eibenmaier was. and. he expressed a wish. he saluted him with a wave of the hand and dismissed him. he added that three weeks had passed since the departure of this man and that the instructions he had received had charged him to settle the business with all his arrival in Vienna. incapable of hiding his inner state of mind. The Prince answered that. he wished to go over it himself. Zauner. not a very serious one. had carried his point. but should await further orders.

for weighty reasons. to his utter dismay. in spite of . Franz Miiller. which possibly he would explain to him in greater detail after a little while. and described how wretched he should be . The Emperor. apparent severity with which Kohlhaas had been treated in Saxony. until a further decision had been reached. he be allowed to withdraw for a time. had felt it his duty to appear before the house of Brandenburg in this. it had never been his intention to allow the latter to die. announcing the institution of the Supreme Court at Berlin and containing remark that Kohlhaas. he composed an autograph letter to the Emperor. he.MICHAEL KOHLHAAS 399 alone he could receive information concerning the secrets contained in the paper. in a note drawn up by the State Chancery. the complaint which Eibenmaier had entered against Kohlhaas. as plaintiff in this affair. replied that the change which seemed suddenly to have taken place in the Elector's mind astonished him exceedingly. the Emperor. had gone to Berlin in the capacity of attorney in order to call Kohlhaas to account for the violation of the public could in no wise be withdrawn now take its course in conformity with the This letter completely crushed the peace. private communications from Berlin reached him a short time after. therefore. in this he affectionately and urgently requested that. He alleged as pretext that the amnesty solemnly promised to man sentence the did not lawfully permit the execution of a death upon him he assured the Elector that. therefore. to make one more effort. and that. since the Emperor's counsel. the complaint and the law. and in an autograph letter begged lawsuit before the the the Elector of this Brandenburg to spare Kohlhaas' life. in consequence. that. The unhappy sovereign determined. as head of the same. affair must Elector and. in spite of all the efforts of the lawyer assigned him. that the report which had been furnished him on the part of Saxony had made the Kohlhaas affair a matter which concerned the entire Holy Roman Empire. would in all probability end on the scaffold.

in case he refused to be influenced by these considerations. and begged him.400 if THE GERMAN CLASSICS man from had pretended to be willing Berlin should. but by the supreme head of the Empire who was no wise bound thereby. not been entered at the Supreme Court by him. At the same time he represented him how necessary it was to make a fearful example of Kohlhaas in view of the continued outrages of Nagelschmidt. this could only be rendered after a declaration on his Majesty's part. when the Chamberlain came to pay him a visit. who with unheard-of boldness was already extend- ing his depredations as far as Brandenburg. The Chamberlain threw himself on his knees before him and begged him by all that he held sacred and dear to tell him what this paper contained. he showed him the letters which he had written to the courts of Vienna and Berlin in the effort to prolong Kohlhaas' life and thus at least gain time in which to get possession of the paper in the latter 's hands. answered that the energy with which the attorney of his Majesty the Emperor was proceeding made it absolutely out of the question for him to conform to the wish expressed by the Elector of Saxony and depart from the strict precepts of the law. the sovereign who had granted the amnesty. since. inasmuch as the complaint against Kohlhaas on account of the crimes which had been pardoned in the amnesty had. to whom much of this decla- ration seemed ambiguous and obscure. He remarked that the solicitude thus displayed really went too far. and after he had grasped his hand and. to if apply to His Majesty the Emperor himself. The Elector bade him bolt the doors of the room and sit down on the bed beside him. The Elector fell ill again with grief and vexation over all these unsuccessful attempts. was to be issued in favor of Kohlhaas. the protection which they to afford the The Elector of Brandenburg. a decree . prove in the end to be more detrimental to him than if he had remained in Dresden and his affair had been decided according to the laws of Saxony. and one morning. at Berlin in to as a matter of fact. by an unexpected turn of affairs.

of Brandenburg and I. sent to the castle. IV The woman. Hail. after a short consultation with me. and since. pretending that. Nevertheless the Elector. he could not believe her words without it. looking at his hand. our measure from head to foot. and the Elector. even if she were the Eoman Sibyl The herself. has already told you that the Elector wife. determined to destroy by a jest in the presence of all the people the fame of this fantastic woman. moreover. said woman. pressed 401 it to his heart. was kept behind lock and key in an inclosure fenced in with high boards and shaded by the oak-trees of the park. Then he turned back to the woman before whom this matter had been transacted aloud. hastily taking that the sign would be that. it was absolutely impossible to understand how the animal could carry out this strange prediction and come to meet us in the square where we were standing. go ahead! What have you to disclose to me of the future? else that she ' ' and Sovereign Vol. the ' ! — 26 . the big horned roebuck which the gardener's son was raising in the park. came upon a gipsy.MICHAEL KOHLHAAS with a sigh. just been the topic of conversation at dinner. Now you must know that this roebuck. my Elector Your Grace will reign for a long time. even before we should leave. on the third day of the conference that we held at Juterbock. Well. whose art had. and ordered that the roebuck be instantly killed and prepared for the table within the next few days. were kept carefully locked. would come to meet us in the market-place — — where we were standing at that moment. he began as follows: " Your as I hear. and said. the park in general and also the garden leading to it. inappropriately enough. afraid that some trick might be behind it and determined for the sake of the joke to give the lie once and for all to everything might say. said. on account of other smaller game and birds. which was destined for the Dresden kitchen. lively as he is by nature. He walked up to her table with his arms crossed and demanded from her a sign one that could be put to the test that very day to prove the truth of the fortune she was about to tell him.

' who through Having done . and your descendants will be great and glorious and will come to exceed in power all the other princes and sovereigns of the world. do so.' she replied. pressing close to me with her hands held before her mysteriously. and looked at me. raised herself slowly with their aid from her stool. she whispered audibly in my ear. and as I. and the name of the man the power of arms will seize it for himself. after a pause in which he looked thoughtat the woman. answered. Yes. and. seated herself once more on the stool behind her. though only because under the existing circumstances there was nothing else for me to do. taking and crossing her knees. the year in which he ' 1 — will lose his throne. a look cold and lifeless as though from eyes of marble. that he was almost sorry now that he had sent off a messenger to ruin the prophecy and while amid loud . No 'Is that so 1 I it ' ! Elector. so able to announce ' At ' ' ' ! asked confused. ' " The Elector. as he took a step fully toward me. rejoicing the money rained down in heaps into the woman's lap from the hands of the knights who followed the Elector. then she closed it again. precise way arranged the money in it according to kind and quantity. asked if the salutation which she was about to reveal to me also had such a silvery sound as his. well! Three things I will write down for you the Very name of the last ruler of your house. shaded her eyes with her hand as if the sun annoyed her. I repeated the question I had asked her and. I added jokingly to the seems. asked whether she should write it who with ' ' down for me. after feeling in his pocket and adding a gold piece on his own account. while she examined my hand. The woman opened a box that stood beside her and in a leisurely. from what quarter does danger menace my house? The a piece of charcoal and a paper in her hand woman. really embarrassed. the latter. and drew back a step before the figure.402 THE GERMAN CLASSICS house from which you spring will long endure. she has nothing really agreethat she seized her crutches. To me. said in an undertone.

Your Highness raised one of her crutches from that man there. was about to seize the and turned and paper. pursued by men-servants and maids. Not so. sealed the paper with a wafer. had come to the market-place to meet us. which was the pledge for the truth of all that she had uttered. as soon as I had . and. redeem it. — ' ! me standing in the square. the one with the plumed hat. with a smile hovering on his lips. although dead to be sure. Well then. Thus indeed the woman's prophecy. and the roebuck. and pressed npon it a leaden seal ring which she wore on her middle finger. speechless with astonishment. to my great consola- must admit.MICHAEL KOHLHAAS 403 this before the eyes of all the people she arose. And as I. she left ' ' ! ' . was fulfilled. there appeared the knight whom the Elector had sent to the castle. The lightning which falls from heaven on a winter's day cannot annihilate more completely than this sight did me. said. and. even before he had finished speaking. if it so please you before I had clearly grasped what she was saying. as you can well imagine. I by two hunters before his very eyes. gaily placing his arm in mine with the intention of leading me away from the square. clapping shut the box that stood behind her and slinging it over her back. The Elector. she disappeared in the crowd of people surrounding us. and my first endeavor. and reported. which she moistened in her withered month. curious beyond all words. she said. so that I could no longer watch what she was doing. standing on the bench at the entrance from him you shall of the church behind all the people And with these words. a cry went up around the whole square. the prophecy was a commonplace swindle and not But how worth the time and money which it has cost us great was our astonishment when. and the eyes of all turned toward a large butcher's dog trotting along from the castle yard. But at this moment. dropped the animal on the ground three paces in front of us. In the kitchen he had dragged off to the kitchen ' ' ! seized the roebuck by the neck as a fair prize. that the roebuck had been killed and tion.

was to discover immediately the whereabouts of the man with the plumed hat whom the woman had pointed out to me but none of my people. Imagine that you are myself. answered. and when his master. he doubted whether she could ever be discovered in Saxony. the Elector replied that the Government Office. But the Elector answered that he saw absolutely no way of doing so. Now it happened that the Chamberlain wished to go to Berlin on account of several considerable pieces of property in the Neumark of Brandenburg which his wife had fallen heir to from the estate of the Arch-Chancellor. The Chamberlain.404 THE GERMAN CLASSICS excused myself from the company which surrounded me. When asked by his friend whether he had made any attempts to discover the person of the gipsy-woman herself. and secure the paper for me!" the Chamber- . a few weeks ago in the farm-house at Dahme. which he refused to explain in detail. however. friend Kunz. Count Kallheim. wiping away the perspiration. had been searching in vain for this woman throughout the Electorate. although the thought of having to do without it or perhaps even seeing all knowledge of it perish with this man. I saw the man with ' . he asked. brought him to the verge of misery and despair. though sent out on a three days continuous search. in view of these facts. who considered it a waste of effort to attempt to contradict the Elector's opinion of the incident or to try to make him adopt his own view of the matter. my own eyes With ' ' ! these words he let go of the Chamberlain's hand and. who had died shortly after being deposed. in consequence of an order which he had issued under a false pretext. for reasons. As Sir Kunz really loved the Elector. begged him by all means to try to get possession of the paper and afterward to leave the fellow to his fate. pressing his hand " affectionately to his breast. after reflecting for a short time. sank back again on the couch. whether the latter would leave the matter to his discretion. And then. could give me even the remotest kind of information concerning him.

confidently hoped to see it commuted by an electoral decree to a mere. set about his business by giving Kohlhaas an opportunity to get a good look at him. complete satisfacwould be rendered to him in Dresden in his suit against Squire Wenzel Tronka. he could not be prosecuted for the armed invasion of that country and the acts of violence committed Saxony at that time. one morning when . however. though possibly long and severe. by virtue of the agreement concluded with the Elector of at Liitzen. where. Kohlhaas. accompanied only by a few servants. as we have said. precisely on the day of the arrival of the Chamberlain. could not take that into account. term of imprisonment. judgment was pronounced. no one believed would be carried out. in the complicated state of affairs. hastened his departure by several days. and although in his answer he objected that. And indeed. left his wife behind. he very soon acquiesced in the matter. he was nevertheless told for his information that His Majesty the Emperor.MICHAEL KOHLHAAS 405 lain turned over his affairs to a subordinate. who nevertheless realized that no time was to be lost if the commission given him by his master was to be accomplished. and set out for Berlin. whose attorney was making the complaint in this case. Immediately after the appearance of the Imperial attorney from Vienna the horse-dealer was called to account before the bar of the Supreme Court for the violation of the public peace proclaimed throughout the Empire. in spite of its mercy. knowing the good will which the Elector bore Kohlhaas. after the situation had been explained to him tion and he had been told that. Thus it happened that. had meanwhile arrived in and by special order of the Elector of Brandenburg had been placed in a prison for nobles. together with his five children. he was made as comfortable as circumBerlin. The Chamberlain. Indeed the whole city. stances permitted. to offset this. dressed as he was in his ordinary court costume. which sentence. and Kohlhaas was condemned to lose his life by the sword.

at her demand. and in age and costume she seemed to him to correspond fairly well to the woman described to him by the Elector of Saxony. he did not forget to impress particularly upon the woman the three mysterious items contained in the paper. he determined to substitute the aforesaid woman for her and. either by strategy or by force. He therefore sent for an old woman who hobbled around on crutches. her act the part of the gipsy before Kohlhaas. to have . As the mother . had to pay over to her in advance.406 THE GERMAN CLASSICS was standing at the the horse-dealer window of his prison innocently gazing at the passers-by. of whom he had had but a fleeting vision as she handed him the paper. the woman undertook the execution of this business at once on the promise of a considerable reward. On the supposition that Kohlhaas probably had not fixed very deeply in mind the features of the old gipsy. As he concluded from a sudden movement of his head that he had noticed him. as he did not know how far the latter had gone in her declarations to Kohlhaas. he considered that what had taken place at that moment in Kohlhaas' soul was a sufficient preparation to allow him to go a step further in the attempt to gain possession of the paper. and. he charged her to demand of Kohlhaas that he should give the paper to her to keep during a few fateful days. of this paper which was of the utmost importance to the Saxon court. selling old clothes he had noticed her in the streets of Berlin among a crowd of other rag-pickers. and with great pleasure observed particularly that he put his hand involuntarily to that part of the chest where the locket was lying. In accordance with this plan and in order to fit her for the role. he informed her in detail of all that had taken place in Jiiterbock between the Elector and the gipsy. about certain measures which had been taken to get possession. a part of which the Chamberlain. As was to be expected. on the pretext that it was no longer safe with him. if it were practicable. After he had explained to her what she must disclose in disconnected and incoherent fashion.

mission and this woman had already known her for several months.MICHAEL KOHLHAAS of Herse. the 407 groom who had fallen at Miihlberg. she succeeded a few days later in gaining access to the horse-dealer by means of a small gratuity to the warden. the woman informed the latter that she had returned to Brandenburg from Saxony some time before. remind him vividly of Lisbeth he even noticed on her neck a mole like one with which his wife's neck was marked. Kohlhaas. for not only did her features and her hands and beautiful and especially the use fingers still shapely she made of them when speaking. she had immediately pressed forward to him. he had hit upon the very same mysterious gipsy-woman whom he wished to have impersonated. The horse-dealer remarked such a strange likeness between her and his dead wife Lisbeth that he might have asked the old woman whether she were his wife's grandwith mother. . But when the woman entered his room. had perfrom the government to visit Kohlhaas at times. while leaning on her crutches and stroking the cheeks of the children who. thought that he recognized in her the very same old gipsy-woman who had handed him the paper in Jiiterbock and since probability is not always on the side of truth. whom he had . and in the aged old-clothes woman. picked up in the streets of Berlin to impersonate the gipsy. were pressing close to their father. and under a false name had offered herself for the business which he wished to see done. intimidated by her singular appearance. it so happened that here something had occurred which we will indeed relate. and that after an unguarded question which the Chamberlain had hazarded in the streets of Berlin about the gipsy-woman who had been in Jiiterbock in the spring of the previous year. but at the same time. With his thoughts in a strange whirl he urged the gipsy to sit down on a chair — — . At least. from a seal ring that she wore on her hand and a coral chain that hung round her neck. The Chamberlain had made the most colossal blunder. to those who wish to question it we must accord full liberty to do so.

not for the world! " He pressed the old woman's hand warmly and only asked to know what sort of answers to the tremendous questions were contained in the paper. he need not have the least fear for its safety. that under the protection of the Elector of Brandenburg. w Not for the the woman Kohlhaas the horsesaid. made answer. Taking on her lap the youngest child. was to tell him that the threat to get the paper away from him by strategy or by force was an absurd and empty fraud. who had crouched at her feet. in whose custody he was. no matter on what pretext. which could be of no further use to him. to lend a favorable ear to the offer which had been made to him on the frontier through Squire Stein. she concluded. Nevertheless.408 THE GERMAN CLASSICS and asked what it could possibly be that brought her to him on business for the Chamberlain. to the Elector of Saxony. however. She said that the real purpose for which she had come. Kohlhaas. While Kohlhaas' old dog snuffed around her knees and wagged lain to his tail as she gently patted his head. to which the paper contained the mysterious answer. but for this pretty. grandam. and in return for life and liberty to surrender the paper. to warn him of a messenger who was then in Berlin for the purpose of gaining possession of it. that the paper was indeed much safer with him than with her. she considered it would be wise to use the paper for the purpose for which she had given it to him at the fair in Jiiterbock. and to demand the paper from him on the pretext that it was no longer safe next his heart where he was carrying it. who was exulting over the power which was thus afforded him to wound the heel of his enemy mortally at the very moment when it was treading him in the dust. ' ' ! and with . " Not for the world. fair-haired little lad dealer. world. and that he should take good care not to lose possession of it by giving it up to any one. the woman answered that she had been commissioned by the Chamber- for the Court of inform him what the three questions of importance Saxony were.

and among so many thousand people had handed it precisely to him. shall separate me. ' ' . seized with sudden apprehension at being found by them in these quarters. good-by for the presit Now happened that. Kohlhaas answered." said he. positive and unequivocal. so that the woman. furthermore. when they were grown. He new deception asked. from this paper through which I have been granted satisfaction in such a wonderful fashion for all I have suffered. Kohlhaas. " Good-by for the present. and whether. in some confusion. of course. a noise was who were mounting the stairway. before she Lutzen. just at that heard.MICHAEL KOHLHAAS 409 that she laughed softly at the child. paper to the Elector. exclaimed. he would not be making a vain sacrifice of the in the case of the " If I've once caught a man breaking his word. moment. The woman set the child down on the floor again and said that in many respects he was right. petted and kissed him while he stared at her in wide-eyed surprise. in the end. and that he could do or leave undone what he wished. Kohlhaas. how she came by the knowl- edge resident within her. and that he could do nothing of greater benefit to them and their grandchildren than to keep the paper. and with her withered hands gave him an apple which she had in her pocket. although it would be pure curiosity on his part. He wished to find out about a thousand other things yet. he could open it. why she had refused to give the magic paper to the Elector for whom it had been written after all. who would insure him against a after the experience he had been through. good grandam. who had never consulted her art. and with that she took up her crutches again and started to go. Kohlhaas repeated his question regarding the contents of the wonderful paper she answered hastily that. would approve his conduct. as had lately happened band of troops which he had collected in left him — who she really was. that the children themselves. I never exchange another with him and nothing but your command. caused by several police officials . ' ' .

crying. just at this time the Chamberlain charged his wife that before she left for Berlin. was going to the Prince of Dessau's to hunt. in which the unhappy sovereign was plunged. At this news the Elector. to the present time. was only increased by such learned disputes. children. that. whither she was about to follow him. refused for two days to take food on the third day he suddenly disappeared from Dresden after sending a short communication to the Government Office with word that he . In the mean time the Elector of Saxony. Oldenholm and Olearius by name. The disquietude. and had asked their advice concerning the mysterious paper which was of such importance to him and all his descendants. which he had made with the help of an old woman who had kept out of sight ever since. had called in two astrologers. not to say the despair. tired of life. In addition. and finally was so intensified as to seem to his soul wholly intolerable. THE GERMAN CLASSICS When we meet all ' ' concerning these things. the men could not agree as to whether the prophecy referred to remote centuries or. and went off. again you shall not lack information With that she turned toward ' ' ' ' ! Then the door. farewell she kissed the little folks one after the other. she should adroitly inform the Elector. abandoned to his wretched thoughts. perhaps. Farewell. who at that time enjoyed a great reputation in Saxony. and the day of execution already set Monday after Palm Sunday. shut himself for the up in his room like a man in utter despair and. there was but slight hope of securing the paper in Kohlhaas' possession. . after the failure of an attempt. with a possible reference to the King of Poland.410 ent. his heart torn by grief and remorse. After making a profound investigation of several days' duration in the tower of the Dresden palace. with whom the relations were still of a very warlike nature. inasmuch as the death sentence pronounced against the horse-dealer had now at last been signed by the Elector of Brandenburg after a minute examination of all the legal documents.

: — Duke Henry. were removed. and it is also certain that Lady Heloise on the evening of the following day arrived in Berlin at the house of her husband. who assisted — him in administering it. the prison in which he was kept was soon after thrown open and free entrance was allowed day and night to all his friends. For in consequence of a singular decree extraordinary issued by the Elector. mean time. He even had the further satisfaction of seeing the theologian. Sir Kunz. were returned to him. with a letter from the latter 's own hand without doubt a very remarkable document which. So much is certain the Prince of Dessau was incapable of hunting. Jacob Freising. the bailiff at Kohlhaasenbruck. his chains burg. on the order of the Elector of Brandenthe death sentence was read to Kohlhaas. to be their guardian. enter his prison as a messenger from Dr. to which papers his right had been denied in Dresden. of whom he possessed a great many in the city. as he was at this time lying ill in Brunswick at the residence of his uncle. we shall not undertake to say. has since been lost Communion at the hands of this reverend gentleman Holy in the presence of two deans of Brandenburg. After that. city. and the papers concerning his property. which could not even be weaned from the hope of seeing him saved by an elecyet Amid general commotion in the . nothing could match the peace and contentment of his last days. with the help of a — notary he made out a will in favor of his children and appointed his honest friend. Luther.MICHAEL KOHLHAAS 411 Where he actually did go and whether he did wend his way toward Dessau. howand of receiving the blessed ever. as the which we have diligently compared before chronicles — at this point contradict and offset one reporting events another in a very peculiar manner. in the company In the of a certain Count von Konigstein whom she gave out to be her cousin. the Chamberlain. When the councilors whom the court had dispatched to him asked what disposition he wished to have made of his property after his death.

for him. if you care to know. looking in surprise at the man. who were pressing his hands •throng — — stepped up to him. But just as the castellan started " and then hesitated to answer " Kohlhaas. When Kohlhaas arrived at the place of execution he found there the Elector of Brandenburg and his suite. The purpose for which he comes I do not need to tell you. but who can describe the astonishment which filled him when he found the folin farewell. The seal pressed upon the wafer had reminded him at once of the frequently mentioned gipsy-woman. Jacob Freising. halting on horseback. Accompanied by a strong guard and conducted by the theologian. and gave him a paper which he said an old woman had put in his hands The latter. — . the woman strangely in the middle of his sentence. he was just leaving the gate of his prison with his two lads in for this favor he had expressly requested his arms when among a sorrowful at the bar of the court of acquaintances. can be recognized by a hat with blue and white plumes." Kohlhaas turned to the castellan in the utmost astonishment and asked him if he knew the marvelous woman who . finally uttered. with haggard face. the horse-dealer was borne away by the procession which moved on again at that moment. there Monday after Palm Sunday. and. Your Lisbeth. had given him the note. Sir Heinrich von Geusau. to have the locket dug up and the paper in it opened and read. opened the paper. whom he scarcely knew. in the midst of an innumerOn the sovereign's right was the able crowd of people. on which Kohlhaas was to make atonement to the world for the all-too-rash attempt to procure justice for himself within it. the lowing information contained in it: Elector of Saxony is in Berlin he has already preceded you to the place of execution. there "Kohlhaas. and could not make out what the man. the castellan of the Elector's palace. as soon as you are buried. He intends. who seemed to be trembling in every limb. among whom was the Arch-Chancellor.412 THE GERMAN CLASSICS now dawned the fateful toral rescript.

When he also found in it a clause condemning Squire Wenzel Tronka to a punishment of two years' imprison- was handed ment. Franz Miiller. the jurist Anton Zauner. Sir Heinrich. with a copy of the death sentence in his hand. Accordingly when Kohlhaas. examined them his . advanced to the mound where the Elector was awaiting him. Herse. For the Arch-Chancellor. and taken from the knacker. as your sovereign. Rising and laying his hand on the knee of the Arch-Chancellor. In the middle of the half circle formed by the people stood a herald with a bundle of articles. fat and glossy. the linen everything down to the very amount of the bill for medical attention furnished your groom. pawing the ground won impatiently.MICHAEL KOHLHAAS 413 Imperial attorney. on his left was his own attorney. accompanied by his guard. — who " Miihlberg. the neck-cloth. and the two black horses. Look. Kohlhaas. and with eyes fell at sparkling with astonished pleasure read the decree which to him at a sign from the Arch-Chancellor. had been turned over to the attorney in the presence of a specially appointed commission. his feelings completely overcame him and he sank down on his knees at some distance from the Elector. then he walked over to the horses. was bound to procure for you justice that is again. in the market-place in Dresden. they had been fattened by the Squire's servants and then. who was feeding them. After the horses had been made honorable once more by having a banner waved over their heads. the gold gulden. Are you satisfied with me? Kohlhaas set the two children whom he was carrying in his arms down on the ground beside him. I here deliver to you all that was taken from you by force at the Tronka Castle which I. with the decree of the Court Tribunal at Dresden. had the suit instituted at Dresden in the name of his master without yielding a single point to Squire Wenzel Tronka. here are the black horses. this is the day on which you receive your due. the latter said. " "Well. with hands folded across his breast. he joyfully assured him that his dearest wish on earth had been fulfilled.

" Here. led them away from the square. and. who was standing quite near him between two knights whose bodies half hid him from view. declared with a smile that he was going to present them to his two sons. and read it through. he caught sight of the familiar face of the with blue and white plumes. prepare to give satisfaction to His Majesty the Emperor. giving her the things. untying the locket from around his neck as he did so. Whereupon Kohlhaas called out from the crowd Herse's old mother. Henry and Leopold The Chancellor. Kohlhaas walked close up to the man. The Elector cried. as seemed good to him.414 THE GERMAN CLASSICS and patted their plump necks. Kohlhaas advanced to the block. and. promised him in the ! name of the Elector that his last wish should be held sacred and asked him also to dispose of the other articles contained in the bundle. whose attorney is standing here. grandmother. throwing a hasty glance around the circle formed whom ! ' ' . he had caught sight of in the square. and while the latter. and this he presented to her also. He was just removing his neck-cloth and baring his chest when. He lifted the children once more from the ground and pressed them to his breast then he gave them over to the bailiff of Kohlhaasenbruck. man . " Well. Kohlhaas the horse-dealer. who was already beginning to indulge in sweet hopes. He took out the paper. these belong to The indemnity for the loss of Herse was with the you in the bundle. said. without moving his eyes from the man with blue and white plumes. looking graciously down upon him from his horse. as money a gift to provide care and comfort for her old age. now that satisfaction has been rendered you in such fashion. With a sudden stride which surprised the guard surrounding him. he stuck the paper in his mouth and swallowed it. do you. for the viola" tion of the peace he had proclaimed! Taking off his hat and throwing it on the ground Kohlhaas said that he was ready to do so. coming back to the Chancellor. then. for your part. by the crowd. Sir Heinrich von Geusau. unsealed it. weeping quietly.

where his head fell under the axe of the executioner. Amid the general his lamentations of the people his body was placed in a coffin. the Elector of Brandenburg called to him the sons of the dead man and dubbed them knights. Chancellor that he wished them telling the Archto be educated in his school for pages. however. sequent career there must be sought in history. Here ends the story of Kohlhaas. Some hale and happy descendants of Kohlhaas. The Elector of Saxony. . While companions bent over him in consternation and raised him from the ground. were still living in Mecklenburg in the last century.MICHAEL KOHLHAAS 415 At this sight the man with blue and white plumes was seized with convulsions and sank down unconscious. returned shortly afterward to Dresden details of his sub. shattered in body and mind. Kohlhaas turned toward the scaffold. and while the bearers raised it from the ground and bore it away to the graveyard in the suburbs for decent burial.

of the regiment of the Princess of Orange. Prince Frederick Arthur of Hombtjrg. Natalie of Orange. . The Electress. Count Truchsz [**»»"* [416] Pages. Captains of cavalry. People and of both sexes. Field-Marshal Dorfling. of the Elect- Brandenburg. young and old. Ladies- Hennings ) _ „ Colonels. . Princess niece. or's suite. von der golz Count George von Sparren Stranz Siegfried von Morner Count Reuss A Sergeant Officers. . General of cavalry. Colonel Kottwitz. Corporals and troopers.THE PRINCE OF HOMBURG DRAMATIS PERSONS Frederick William. Elector of Count Hohenzollebn. Time: 1675. Servants. his Honorary Colonel of a regi- ment of Dragoons. Lackeys. Gentlemen-in-waiting.

It is nigh t. Author of A Troop of the Guard and Other Poems ACT Scene: Fehrbellin.THE PRINCE OF HOMBURG By Heinrich von Kleist (1810) TRANSLATED BY HERMANN HAGEDORN. so. Princess Natalie. under with head bare and shirt unbuttoned. Swedes The Prince of Homburg. A. Vol. And scant of breath only today returned To camp at Fehrbellin your order said That he should tarry here provisioning Three hours at most. halfan oak. Pages with torches. his exhausted limbs To rest a little while against the fight Which waits us at the glimmering of dawn. Captain Golz and others come stealthily out of the palace and look down upon him from the balustrade of the terrace. and move once more — apace Clear to the Hackel Hills to cope with Wrangel. half waking. [OHENZOLLERN.B. Scene I The Prince op Homburg sits sleeping. sharp ten at night. IV squadrons to depart the town Obedient to the plan. Seeking to build redoubts beside the Rhyn? 'Tis Elector. I heard so! Well? all his [417] — 27 . Who these three days has pressed the flying Exultant at the cavalry's forefront. He flings himself exhausted on the straw Like a hound panting. Now having charged the commandants Of Elector. binding a wreath. a palace with a terrace from which a broad stair descends. In the background. Hohenzollern". I A garden laid out in the old French style. The Elector. our most valiant cousin. Count Hohenzollern. Electress.

Their chief. is. And in the stirrup now the cavalry Expectant paws the ground before the gates — of Who still absents himself? The Prince Homburg. the terrace he throws the light on the Prince. The moonshine lured him. Not waste time. Whither in sleep. I thought it was a fairy-tale ! ! Follow me. Than a perverse and silly trick of the mind. Hohenzollern (handing bach the torch).] In slumber Sure as I live. Oh. Natalie. as you would ne'er believe. meseems. speak but his name — he drops. you tender-hearted women folk. By Jove. look. Sunk as he Electress. He 's sound.] on that bench. indeed ! Look down here there he : sits ! [From Elector. [He takes a torch from Elector. lanterns. gentlemen.] Gentleman-in-waiting (to the pages). It's nothing more. Back with the torches ! . and they find him — where ? the hand of a page. as sound as I He '11 make the Swede Aware of that upon tomorrow's field. As a somnambulist. vaguely occupied Imagining himself posterity And weaving for his brow the crown of fame. Elector. Electress. What ! Hohenzoll. We should give help. [Pause.418 THE GERMAN CLASSICS Now when the hour strikes Hohenzollern. friends. we'll take a closer look. in scorn. the youth is taken He needs a doctor's care — ill. With torches. With lights they seek the valiant man. By faith. and take my word for it. [They descend from the terrace.] In slumber sunk? Impossible! Hohenzollern.

« w m < < u i-! < o os W as .



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



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. faith But I must see how far he '11 go By [The Elector takes the ivreath from the Prince's hand while the latter regards The Elector thereupon him, flushing. 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 ivreath aloft. The Prince follows her with outstretched arms.]


(whispering). Natalie Oh,

The Prince




my girl Away








did the fool say?

ascend the stair
to the terrace.]

The Prince.





Hohenzollern. Elector (baching away from him).

Hell and devils



the gate for
idiot !





Oh, mother mine


Hohenzoll. The raving


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?


The wreath?
No, no!
the door).

Hohenzollern (opening


This way,



So the whole scene may vanish from Back to oblivion, with you, oblivion,
Sir Prince of

his eye



the battle-field,

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 op 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. he turns again, gazing up at the door.


the foot of the stair

Scene III
Enter Count Hohenzollern by the wicket below. The Prince of Homburg.



page follows him.



Count! Listen, do! Count

Most worshipful Sir

Hohenzollern (vexed).


What's wanted?



Hohenzoll. Speak softly now, don't wake him with your

Come now! What's up?

The Elector sent me hither. He charges you that, when the Prince awakes, You breathe no word to him about the jest


his pleasure to allow himself.



You skip off to the wheatfield for some I knew that, hours ago. So run along.
Scene IV
Count Hohenzollern and

Prince op Homburg.

Hohenzollern (taking a position some distance behind the Prince who is still gazing fixedly up toward
the terrace).


[The Prince drops

to the


And there he lies You could not do it

better with a bullet.

[He approaches him.] for the fairy-tale eager He'll fabricate to show the reason why Of all the world he chose this place to sleep in.




Arthur! Hi!

Devil's own!

[He bends over him.] What are you up

What are you doing The Prince. Ah, dear, old fellow

here at dead of night?



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


The Mamelukes, of course Hohenzollern. Sure as I live and breathe, the man's forgot That he commands the riders of the Mark The Prince (rising).


helmet, quick then





The Prince. The Prince.

Off to the right there, Harry. Hohenzoll. Where? On the stool?
I laid

— On


are they? the stool.


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
Curses! unobserved


at the glove in his hand.] should I know?

He must have

torn that

From the

lady niece's arm. [Abruptly.] Quick be off! now, What are you waiting for?

The Prince

(casting the glove


coining, coming. I told to wake me must






The knave

Hohenzollern (regarding him).






Upon my


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


pulls himself together.]



Now I know

Last night,


The heat was such one scarce could

in bed.

I crept exhausted hither to this garden, And because Night with so sweet tenderness

Encompassed me, fair-haired and odorous


as the Persian bride wraps close her


Lo, here I laid my head upon her lap. What is the clock now? Half an hour of midnight. Hohenzollern.

The Prince. And you aver the Hohenzoll. Upon my word,

troops are on the march? sharp, stroke of ten, as
in van,

The Princess Orange regiment

The Prince.


undoubtedly has reached the heights

Of Hackelwitz, there in the face of Wrangel To cloak the army's hid approach at dawn.
Well, no harm's done.

Old Kottwitz captains

her 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.



just as well

I stayed in the beginning.

Let's be

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!

seemed as though the palace of a king, Radiant with gold and silver, suddenly Oped wide its doors, and from its terrace

The galaxy of those


heart loves best

Came down




The Elector and his Lady and the What is her name?

— third —


Whose ?
(searching his


The Prince

A mute must find Hohenzoll. The Platen girl ?


the one I



his tongue to speak her



Come, come, now! The Ramin?
no, old fellow

The Prince. No,


Or White rf eld?

pearl the bright circlet that but sets it off! Hohenzoll. Damn it, then, tell me I can't guess the face

The Prince. No, no




fail to see the



lady do you mean?
Well, never mind.
since I awoke,

The name has slipped from me


goes for


in the story.


Let 's have



The Prince.

But now, don't interrupt me!


the Elector of the Jovelike brow, Holding a wreath of laurel in his hand,


Stands close beside me, and the soul of me 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!

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


Prince. Really, the Platen





Hohenzoll. Lord, the Ramin!

She of the brick-red hair?
coy, violet eyes

The Platen girl with those They say you fancy her.

The Prince.

— I fancy her —

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

The Prince.


Ob, 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 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. The palace portal opes amain. In vain

A flash of lightning from within engulfs them
Rattling, the door flies to. Only a glove I ravish from the sweet dream-creature 's



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.

Well, the Platen girl's. Or could it be Ramin's?

The Prince. Platen Of course. 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?






my love —

Eh? What?



Oh, well then, what's the odds? 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. Twelve o 'clock And we stand here and Off
! !



(dreamily into space). Yes, you are right. Come,

The Prince

But as I had



my mind


us go to bed. say

Is the Electress

who arrived



Not long

Why? — I

since with her niece, the exquisite Princess of Orange, is she still about?

declare the idiot thinks



I've orders to have thirty mounted men Escort them safely from the battle-lines.

Ramin has been

detailed to lead them.



They're gone long since, or just about to go. The whole night long, Ramin, all rigged for

Has hugged
o' twelve.

the door.

But come.

It's stroke

I, for one, before the fight begins, I want to get some sleep.




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. LadiesA little later the Elector enters with Field-Marshal in-waiting. the Prince of Homburg with the glove in his collar, Count Dorfling, HOHENZOLLERN, COUNT TRUCHSZ, COLONEL HeNNINGS, TrOOP-CaPTAIN von der Golz and several other generals, colonels and minor officers.

Elector. Dorfling.

Is it Gotz? that cannonading? It's Colonel Gotz, 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




Gotz stands security word that you should lay your


As though

van already held them

(to the officers).


The Marshal knows the plan. Now, gentlemen, I beg you take your pens and write it down.
officers assemble on the other side about the Field-Marshal, and take out The Elector turns to a their tablets.


gentleman-in-waiting.] is waiting with the coach outside?


my sovereign. They are hitching now.

Elector (seating himself on a chair behind the Electress and the Princess).


shall escort

my beloved wife,

Convoyed by

To Kalkhuhn's,

thirty sturdy cavalrymen. to the chancellor's manor-

At Havelberg beyond the Havel, go. There 's not a Swede dare show his face there

The ferry




At Havelberg? have arranged for it. The day will break In all events before you come to it. [Pause.]

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


And yet my little
In her

Uncle, I am afraid. girl was not more safe
lap than she is now.

own mother's




do you think that we shall meet again?


the victory, as I Doubt not He will, in a few days, perhaps. [Pages enter and serve the ladies refresh-

God grants me

ments. Field-Marshal Dorfling dictates. The Prince of Homburg, pen and tablet
in hand, stares at the ladies.]


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. Marshal.




his liege lord

by the


the army's right, Shall seek by stealthy passage through the


the enemy's left wing, hurl his force between the foe Fearlessly And the three bridges ; then, joined with Count

To circumscribe

Truchsz Count Truchsz





Thereupon, joined with Count Truchsz

— —

[He pauses.]

Who, meanwhile, facing Wrangel on


Has gained firm footing with his cannonry Truchsz (writing). Firm footing with his cannonry Marshal. You hear it?—



to drive the


into the




behind their right.

[A lackey


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.] (writing). Which lies behind their right.

Where Homburg? Arthur! Here! Marshal. Have you gone mad ? The Peince. of the artillery fire.] Would you mind? your hand. what have you lost? Electress. The Princess. . Well out of range of the artillery fire. [The Peince gazes over toward the ladies again. 429 The Prince of Homburg — Hohenzolleen The is the Prince of a whisper) (in Prince (with a start).] Elector (approaches her). He has.] Marshal (continuing). Natalie. Electress (to the Princess). What are you searching for? Why. No. about to draw on a glove. [He Marshal.] no way disprizing Colonel Kottwitz Who shall be aid in counsel and right hand [To Captain Golz in a low voice. Golz (writing). writes. It's in all look about. Dear little girl of mine.] My command ! flushes. General. [They Elector (to the ladies-in-waiting). taking out pen and parch- To whom His Highness.] Is Kottwitz here! Though in — Golz.THE PRINCE OF HOMBURG Marshal. looks around as if she were in search of something. Confides the mounted squadrons of the Mark [He hesitates. Auntie My glove ! I can't imagine — dear. trusting that he lead His force to glory as at Rathenow. You note. — . Takes station in the plain near Hackelwitz Facing the right wing of the enemy Well out of range. to Hohenzoll. dispatched me hither in his place To take the battle order from your lips. [The Electress ties a scarf about the Princess' throat. ment. and.

] the Princess). Golz (reading. Faith. to command! [He takes up pen and tablet once more. Whichever way the tide of battle turn Shall budge not from his designated place. At our lord sovereign's express comG-olz (writing). Oh.] where Marshal (piqued). Lord of my life ? his hand). Now know in truth if it lets the chief but leaves the glove lying everybody can see it. Here ! Hohenzoll. What Hohenzollern (aside) . The Marshal regards him an instant. you will? Elector Natalie. (to the lady-in-waiting). you're possessed! Marshal. — — At our lord sovereign's express command Marshal.430 Natalie. quesPause. Quick! be hers. You may have Bork. together handkerchief. THE GERMAN CLASSICS The right glove. The Prince 's Highness The Prince (regarding now the glove. mand — It's this glove she's seeking Marshal.] [ The The Prince Could I have heard aright? draws the glove from his collar. Natalie. then recovers the handkerI'll The Prince. if left it in your bedroom. Prince. quick! Look on the mantel. now — [Continuing. lady-in-iuaiting goes out. with his [He glove fall.] [He Marshal (looking down at the paper which he holds in (aside). Shall budge not from his designated place. but the left? Elector. is His Highness up to? Arthur! The The Prince.] tioningly. Well out of range of the artillery fire. after he has finished writing). My . Quick.

The Prince. bid her farewell). me not disturb you. Who else? That's Marshal. Until let officers. Who. pages! Come. [He starts to go out with the Electress and Marshal. The Prince (aloud). Well. Elector. yes. it. Then he the Princess. dissolved. in the marsh. Until. and wavering The massed battalions crowd into the plain. here we are! The lady's glove.] hard pressed by Hennings and by Truchsz [He pauses.] The left wing of the enemy. bowing and scraping. gentlemen. Where ? Elector. my dear. 431 The hard pressed by Hennings and by Truchsz Peince (looking over Golz's shoulder). my dear Golz ? What ? I ? — Golz. Shall budge not from Marshal. At our cousin's. Where. quick now There it is. have you got it? my designated place./ THE PRINCE OF HOMBURG Marshal (continues). What! At my feet! The glove? It is your own? [He picks it up and brings it to the Princess. at Prince Homburg's feet. Why. ! — we meet again [The Marshal also bids her good-by. The Prince.] Elector (suddenly standing still). The plan intends that they be wholly crushed. [He writes. I shall not budge — Why. your arm. Electress (as several Pray. Plunges upon its right. Golz. and yours. Come.] . Lights. Until.] shall let the trumpets sound the charge. criss-crossed by ditch on — ditch. ! Gentleman-in-waiting.

432 Natalie. THE GERMAN CLASSICS I thank you. Then . Shall send an officer of his staff to him. Ere this the trumpets shall not sound the charge. What 's up now ? The Prince. it is yours? Yes. the Elector's Highness. Farewell Farewell Good luck God keep ! ! ! we joyously may meet! [The Elector goes out with the ladies. Who. mark this well. too soon sound the However. shut up! Marshal (continuing). in great perturbation) Oh. shall let the trumpets sound the charge! [He pretends at his paper). [The Prince gases dreamily into space. — [He pauses. What 's in your head f In Satan's name. noble Prince. courtiers and pages follow. Did you not see ? Hohenzollern.] Electress (turning to the Princess. Attendants. [She takes it and draws it on.] Through some mistake the blow should too soon — to fall fall The Prince (aside Count Hohenzollern .] The Prince (stands an instant as though struck by a bolt from heaven. she goes out). The Pkince Natalie. then with triumphant step he Then he Marshal (looking you safe See that erelong ! returns to the group of officers). shall let the trumpets to write. shall finally transmit The order for the charge against the foe.] down Then he — charge. (confused). it is mine it is the one I lost.] Well. Harry! Hohenzollern (impatiently). have you got it? . lest Through some mistake the blow should Golz (writes).

If Marshal. Your Highness has it down? Marshal? I asked The Prince. Not Naturally not. Rest (interrupting) The Prince — — — assured. my and my Marshal. Hohenzollern Golz (in the About the trumpets ? with emphatic indignation). tone). What now. And you. Not till the order Trumpets be damned ! — same Till he himself — .THE PRINCE OF HOMBURG Golz (writes). Vol. The morning breaks. generals you the orders ! Your battle-plan Elector Is in all points made clear to your (picking up his hat and gloves). 433 Ere this the trumpets shall not sound the charge. Golz (significantly).] charge. commanders. upon the Rhine. to confer With Colonel Kottwitz. Marshal. down? The thing is done. IV — 28 . I charge.] A Groom (entering). if it can be done. before But then he'll let the trumpets sound the [He writes. so keep your head Recall.] colonels Elector (returning) . (aside. He shall receive your message. no less. you had writ it down? The Prince. ! Make me My not do without the third today. ! Come — Frank Here! [To the ! officers. Baron Golz Before the action opens. learn you forfeited two victories Of late. [Pause. my Have liege. Pause. land and throne depend on it. Prince control ! Homburg. And I desire pray note it. Marshal (in raised tone).

Captain von dee Golz and other officers enter at the head of the cavalry. today. Child of the gods. Count Hohenzollern. forward). Hey. Seize thee.] . on thine orb. Scene I Colonel Kottwitz. My hair in passing. followed by generals. roll hither Thou hast touched as thou hovered 'st near Already from thy horn of plenty thou Benignantly hast cast me down a pledge. fugitive one. Halt! Squadron. Kottwitz. I will pursue thee on the field of battle.'] Scene VI The Prince (coming Now. veil a faint phantasmic creature. pour Wholly thy radiant blessings round my feet.434 THE GERMAN CLASSICS I will be Elector. me off — my horse? Here — here! ! [They step outside again. Though sevenfold chains of iron bind thee To the triumphant chariot of the Swede fast ! [Exit. friends. Saddle me Quick there on the field before the sun ! ! my gray ! [He goes out. who'll help Hohenzollern and Golz. Whose wind 's breathing even now ! Lifts as a sail. colonels and minor officers.] ACT Scene : II Battlefield of Fehrbellin. halt Dismount! Hohenzollern and Golz ( entering ) Halt halt ! . tear low thy horn of plenty. Fortune. Kottwitz (outside).

That he should bolt me round the entire field? ! . they say. but down his flank He lightly slipped and did himself no harm.] Where the Prince's Highneso? chief. Ruddily gleams the sunlight through the clouds with the lark the spirit flutters up Exultant to the joyous airs of heaven! Did you succeed in finding Marshal Dorfling? And Kottwitz (coming forward). Hohenzoll. ! Golz. The Prince will momentarily return. though. a noble son Who '11 do the same for you when you grow sear. His horse gave him a tumble. Golz and others. the lofty Lord of earth. He (turning). Kottwitz (ascending a slight elevation) A fine day. It is not worth the shadow of a thought. our Kottwitz. to Thanks a son you — ouch ! Plague take me May ! giv 'n you for your pains. as I breathe the breath of life FA day our God. He will return erelong. followed by Hohenzollern. Last night. in the saddle I am full of youth When I dismount. an arrow. so you passed it by. no What does my lord expect? Am I a bird. Hohenzollern. The Devil. For sweeter things than deadly combat made. Officer.THE PRINCE OF HOMBURG Kottwitz (still 435 outside). there's a battle on ! As though the In wrath. Hohenzollern. Kottwitz. In foliage hidden. an idea. A matter of no consequence. So they fell? say.] Oh. Be [He enters. Where has he gone? He rode down to a hamlet. Hohenzollern . is [Looking about. spirit and the flesh were parting. His horse shied at the mill.

The one man whom I saw not was the Marshal Wherefore I made my way back to my men. I do believe you'll say I've done it well. too.436 I THE GERMAN CLASSICS at Hackel hillock with the van with the rearguard down in Hackel vale. his left hand. He will be ill-content.] Harry. that applied to me? Hohenzoll. That beckoned through the placid village trees The bells were ringing. that I praise everything you do. . ! Scene II The Prince of Homburg with a black bandage on others as before. A matter of some import to confide. Kottwitz And good morning. What were you up to You seem so grave. calling men to prayers. — I was in the chapel . You were distraught. Good morning. victory. My young and very noble prince. Arthur? I The Prince. the Prince was And ! Golz. Officer. The Kottwitz. ! friends ! You know Hohenzoll. His Highness comes. As we passed by. Oh. our commandant. He had. and pray. it seemed. in the village. how I formed the squadrons down that road While you were tarrying in the nest below. deed. I wanted to inquire — [He draws the Count forward a step. "A pious gentleman for one so young! A The Prince. by the way. and something urged me on To kneel before the altar. and fame. I saw that well enough. God greet you! Look. what was it Dorfling said last night In his directions. The Prince. Kottwitz. that begins with prayer Must end in glory. believe me.

Kottwitz. gentlemen Ho. That shot is Hennings '. Hennings and Truchsz. 437 — divided! I scarce know what Dictation always sets my wits awry. He's stolen his way about to Wrangel's rear. to horse The Prince. At The Prince terribly he uncoils (shading his eyes with his hand).] ! Ho. Why. Is Hennings over there on our right wing? the Rhyn there. how ! 1st Officer. Hohenzollern. Until an order summon you to charge. The Prince. . Indeed.] ! sirs To horse. throats 1st Officer.THE PRINCE OF HOMBURG The Prince. What the devil then? he held our army's right. Arthur. from twelve loud of fire. Come. Distraught ailed rue. Golz (on the hillock). Who is it? What? It's Colonel Hennings. Not much for you this time. Hohenzoll. yesterday [Cannonade in the distance. who lead the infantry. for instant action with the horse. A Hohenzollern. At Hennings' now. -^ 4 ^ jp • The Prince (after a pause.] Thunder and lightning! Wrangel's cutting loose Kottwitz. dreamily). I call those some redoubts the Swedes have there ! . are ordered here to halt and stay. as luck would have it. curious thing! ^^-A/^^X 4^ A*** Qr^ refer? is To what do you [He looks at him. Are designated And you Ready to attack the foe. you can watch the entire field from here. and the fight is on [They all ascend a slight elevation. Your Highness. ! A cannon-shot ! heard.

What's Truchsz there in the centre for.438 2d Officer. 2d Officer. look! fire. My faith And now the horse are ordered out ! ! ! ! ! . In masses Sure enough Three regiments The intention seems to be to brace the left. as I live! Afire Afire ! Golz. Lord in the heavens.] Golz. from the front to his support. 2d Officer. it's Truchsz. THE GEEMAN CLASSICS By heaven.] Hark! ! ! Fire of musketry They're at each other now in the redoubts Golz. To be sure Of course. Approaching The Prince. 3d Officer. at their right flank ! 3d Officer. That's Truchsz! The Prince Truchsz? Kottwitz. brothers. look. [Loud cannonading. they top the very spire Eising above the hamlet at their back! [Shots near-by. 1st Officer. 1st Officer 3d Officer. 1st Officer. today? ! Golz. who grants men victories Wrangel is in retreat already! ! . in my born days I never heard Such thunder of artillery Hohenzollern. The flames are darting up the steeple now Hey! How the Swedish aides fly right and ! left! They're in retreat! Kottwitz. 2d Officer.] ! ! ! ! ' ! 1st Officer. they get ware of us here in the vale ! [Musketry Look. My God. Shoot Shoot Burst open wide the bowels of the earth The cleft shall be your corpses sepulchre [Pause. Good heavens. To screen the right wing's march Hohenzollern (with a laugh) Hi! How they'll scamper When Kottwitz. Shouts of victory in the distance. look. Where? There.] The village is afire ! ! Afire.

! The Prince Kottwitz. Never. On. ! my my heart? chief ! Kottwitz (offended). The Prince (wildly). follow me ! ! is ours ! ! The Prince. triumph (descending from the hillock). never No. Hennings' not yet at the Rhyn! ! ! 1st Officer. Kottwitz. Remember. Orders? Eh. Cool. Golz. Kottwitz. cool now Let the trumpets sound the charge! ! — on! Kottwitz. heav'n and earth and hell! Our liege 's Highness in the ordinance Commanded we should wait his orders here. On! And cool Come. Listen Golz. I say. now. Triumph Victory Oh. ! The orders of Arthur! Here. march. the is On Golz (to to the battle. charge ! my gentlemen on ! ! Trumpets. Kottwitz game ! Kottwitz). read the gentlemen the ordinance. I swear 2d Officer.THE PRINCE OF HOMBURG HOHENZOLLERN. ho you give me that. Absurd to reason. Oh. my colonel. at a pinch I'll tow him home yet at my horse's tail ! — March. The Prince. Kottwitz. friends ! ! By Look ! There on his left flank! He 's drawing back his grins from the redoubts At j. . Orders ? Hohenzollern. 439 No heaven. Kottwitz. young gentleman? The nag you dance about on. By Golz. Relieve him of his sword ! . do you ride so slow? Have you not heard the orders of your heart? Kottwitz. Hohenzoll.

booted and spurred. indeed ! Indeed ! The Wife. and the scabbard with it ! off the officer's sword together belt. you don 't hold your tongue be ! (to the officer). . that's If — — mad (threateningly). you impertinent boy. Why thunder more ? Hohenzollern (mollifying ) It was advice. who do not even Know yet the Ten Commandments of the Mark! Here is your [He tears with the 1st Officer (reeling). And may one question. enters.] By The Prince Hohenzollern God. Kottwitz. no more. you say? [He pushes him back. On your head be it. Peasant. Follow. The My sword.] knave Now. I go with you. they sought to give. Prince. honest folk! Can you make room To shelter guests beneath your roof? Gentleman-in-waiting. You heard.] Hi. gentlemen. at work. ! Silence You must The Prince (giving up the sword).] Scene III A room in a village. Ho. whom ? . corporal's guard! Off to headquarters with the prisoner! [To Kottwitz and the other officers. A A gentleman-in-waiting. the countersign : A Who follows not his general to the fight ! — Now. peasant and his ivife are sitting at a table. God greet you.440 THE GERMAN CLASSICS Prince. who dares lag? Kottwitz. Come! ! Be it upon my head then. The Prince (somewhat calmed). brothers [Exeunt. sabre. Gladly.

my precious mother I'll see this bearer of dread news myself. supported by two troopers. I must sit down. Electress. Morner. herald of dismay. The highest lady gates. ! how pale ! She is faint. V The wounded. The Swedish army's beaten hip and thigh. said he Mother. others. Electress. enters with the Princess Natalie. for the year at least The Mark need fear no more their fire and sword Here comes the mother of our people now. Morner. Oh. The others as before. — ! Scene Captain von Morner enters. Heavens. mother mine Ladies-in-waiting.waiting. what these eyes of mine To their eternal grief themselves have seen! Tell So be it The Elector is no more. Electress. since in the land. pale and distressed. Her coach broke down outside the village And Both (rising). ! ! . lead me to a chair. ! ! Come ! Let me have Oh. followed by various ladies-in-waiting. Natalie. 441 no less. we hear the victory is won There'll be no need for farther journeying The victory won? Heaven! What! You haven't heard? Gentleman-in. what do you bring? Oh.THE PRINCE OF HOMBURG GeNTLEMAN-IN -WAITING. Bork Winterf eld arm. ! — Scene IV The Electress. dead? Dead.] Here. your Natalie (going to her). Electress (on the threshold). Electress. [They support her. precious Madam. If not forever.

hard pressed by Truchsz. THE GERMAN CLASSICS Oh. Two lines he'd pierced and. When destroyed. see our liege beneath the battle-flags ride on the foe. led The Prince of Homburg. Give me [She hides her face in her hands. gloriously he rode. Leave me alone.] report of how he came to fall — And. Morner. watching. his cavalry. bold in the battle's midst. standard-bearers fell across his breast flags. twixt bush hill He needs must halt to mass his scattered corps. had brought up his troops To the attack of Wrangel on the plain. When of a sudden the Elector falls. like on him beat a field of grain. may night Close down upon my head. Mowed and Natalie (to the to the earth. Dearest. Reeling broke cover. Horseman and Two And horse. his white horse. heaven! Shall such a hideous blow descend on us? Electress. That moment. as the bolt that strikes the wanderer. When you are done. So murderous a That. went down. In one last flash lights scarlet-bright the world. a strong earthwork and thence fire hemmed his way. dear. Heart-sick with trepidation at the sight Of him. be strong Stop. in dust before our eyes. by the two troopers). So be your tale. oh. as they broke. and lighting the triumphant plain. clear above the dust. our liege. We On Of Truchsz 's regiments Sunlit.442 Natalie. ! Electress. Electress). Soon as the enemy. overspread his body with their . We gather on a hillock's beetling brow. Morner (approaching her.

heaven! Electress. go on! Morner. Flying. Then Could it is true? The Prince. Cannon and standards. heart. The Prince. not one had lived Who might have boasted at his father's hearth At Fehrbellin Electress. kettle-drums and flags. destroyed Capturing the Swede 's whole panoply of war — . The others.] my dearest ! [Greatly moved. Go At this disastrous spectacle. The shelt'ring breastwork. Forward he lunged with us at the redoubt. [She falls in a faint. God in heaven! f Her senses is from Natalie weeping. spurred on of hate and vengeance. I but Could I but answer No ! pour my loyal heart's blood out life ! To call his loyal heart back into . Natalie. Give me again the purchase-price it cost. Scattered them out across the field. Help.] flee First Lady-in-waiting. Oh. Like a wild beast.] Scene VI The Prince of Homburg enters. mother mine First Lady-in-waiting. he presses her hand to his Natalie. at a bound. I : saw the hero ! fall ! Triumph too dearly bought I like it not. And had the group of bridges at the Rhyn Hemmed not our murderous course. ! 443 Oh. we cleared the trench and. on. Natalie. her.THE PRINCE OF HOMBURG Oh. a pang Unfathomable seized the Prince's heart. bore the garrison down.

Ere night I do not doubt that he will come. before the year turned tide. his high renown ? (taking her hand). scarcely knows How he shall shelter his own flesh and blood. . I am orphaned now a second time ! . will be of that last will. dearest cousin! [She withdraws her hand. Pressed hard by the tyrannic hosts of Spain Maurice. in dust and ashes Dordrecht. alas. So be it! I Executor Natalie. an angel with a The Prince sword ! The Elector hoped. Oh. my kin of Orange. [^4 Natalie ! What Natalie. my labor was Vengeance on Wrangle only how could I Then dedicate myself to such a task? A horde of men. my heritage ancestral lies. however. To see the Marches free. what can I do ? My father and my precious mother rest Entombed at Amsterdam. holds the future this After moment's pause. lady. Natalie. Where is his body? Have they found it yet! The Prince.444 THE GERMAN CLASSICS Natalie (drying her tears). My cousin. I sent forth To seek him on the battle-plains of death. take upon myself your cause ! Before the desolate footsteps of your throne I shall stand guard. Who now will lead us in this terrible war And keep these Swedes in subjugation? Who Shield us against this world of enemies His fortune won for us. And now the last support that held my fate 's Frail vine upright falls from me to the earth. Until this hour.] in store for you? thunderbolt which cleaves the now ground Beneath my very feet.] The Prince. I.

I scarce Dare bring to you the rumor that's abroad! The Elector lives ! — ! The Prince. my Prince. thy benison [He hides his face in his hands. Natalie. Ah. The others as before. She tears herself away. By the Almighty God. thus would I speak Oh. mother. By heaven above Count Sparren brought the joyful news but now! Lord of my days Oh. Sergeant. Natalie [He kisses her. sergeant enters in haste. good cousin ! The Prince. : Which. twine your branches here about this breast. blossoming long years in solitude. were this dark hour not given To grief. Into the heart 's deep kernel. Yearns for the wondrous fragrance of your bells. Natalie ! : ! turns again to the Electress. Natalie. My If I dear. were he for whom we grieve but here To look upon this union Could we lift To him our plea Father.] Scene VII A Sergeant. He lives ! Natalie. to be its own. Will you.] ! The Prince Dear God. sweet friend.] did you say? its ! Go now! Into its kernel! (holding her). friend. will you? might grow into The Prince. What Natalie. Oh.] ! . very marrow [She lays her head upon his breast.THE PRINCE OF HOMBURG The Prince 445 (throwing his arm about her waist). did you hear? down at the feet of the Electress [She falls and embraces her.

! Sergeant (entering). old man! And bring him to me! [The Sergeant goes in out. Ah. ! Oh. Natalie.446 THE GERMAN CLASSICS ! The Prince. But say Sergeant. Count von Sparren You saw His Highness fresh and well disposed At Hackelwitz amid the Truchszian corps? Indeed. when I stood afar my cavalry. ! On thy breast — My [They embrace. Quick! Run. Your Highness.] daughter dear! Oh. But he who rode him. with his own eyes At Hackelwitz amid the Truchszian corps. ! Sparren. Here is the officer ! The Prince. The others as before. Who brings the news ? Who Count George of Sparren. No. saw him. the armies' dead. do not cast me twice down the abyss Natalie.] The Prince. hale and sound. but this rapture is well-nigh too great! [She buries her face in her aunt's lap. dashed down to earth. Indeed. precious mother mine Electress. he gave commands For burial of both Ladies-in-waiting. The Prince. The Prince. was not our liege. compassed by Where. Dear heaven Electress. Did I not see him. Prince. And Frederick lives? Natalie (holding her up with both hands). in the vicarage court his staff. The peaks of life receive you once again! Electress. the horse pitched with his rider down. What? Not our liege? Heading .] Scene VIII Count Sparren and the Sergeant enter. His horse and he shivered by cannon-shot? Sparren.

He. Then let me give you tidings of a deed So moving. Speak then Weighty as gold each word sinks to my heart. Hurtled grenades and cannon-shot and shell. who. Sparren. he alone shrank not. unswervingly Made toward the high lands whence the river : came. i' faith Froben. gruesome sight it was heaven. I'll be bound. still smiling. as ever was the case." And leaping from his sorrel at the word He grasps the bridle of our liege's beast. Our country's liege. 447 Oh. called out to me Curses this hour on this white stallion's hide. grant me To give him just an hour of schooling more." With hot misgiving he draws near and " Highness. and replies : . But beckoning his friends. the Master of the Horse who rode Closest to him of all. the strong swimmer. to remonstrance ! Rode deaf. his white horse again. By Sparren. They that had lives to save fled to its banks. The Prince.] The Prince. your horse leave is skittish. Our liege dismounts. ! ' ' A ! I bought in London for a stiff round sum ! I'd part with fifty ducats. the gleaming white That Froben erstwhile bought for him in England. ear has never heard its like. cries. wonderful! [She rises and remains standing beside the Electress. a stream of death. Became once more.THE PRINCE OF HOMBURG Natalie. Could I but veil him with a mouse's gray. The target for the foe's artillery. Scarce could the members of his retinue Within a ring of hundred yards approach About there and about.

Electress (rising). But scarce is Froben mounted on the white When from a breastwork.448 THE GERMAN CLASSICS " As If lie long as day is in the sky. Dear God. [Brief pause. 'Twould speed my journey much if you could spare ! . sir! The Elector has proceeded to Berlin begs his generals thence to follow him. Indeed. Returning thence to where his duty calls. Natalie (also weeping). I doubt will learn the art you wish to teach. He Natalie. let us follow straightway to Berlin. the Swedish general. Pardon. hills But give your lesson out beyond those Where the foe's gunners will not heed his fault. Froben 's own.] well paid for Though I had ten lives ^ I could not lose them in a better cause ! — Valiant old Froben ! Electeess (in tears). following his coming. I marvel that all this is news. oh! a murder-shell Tears him to earth. Enough! To then? Is Hackelwitz headquarters? business! Where's the Elector Sparren. What? To Berlin? You mean the war is done? Sparren. . The Prince. And A conference. Perchance that peace attached thereto: itself may follow soon. A The Prince. Count Horn. sacrifice to faithfulness." Thereon he mounts the sorrel. tears horse and rider low. has arrived And. And from him is he falls. not a sound more did ! we hear. out of hand The armistice was heralded through camp. Come. Admirable man! ! A meaner soul might well deserve our tears The Prince. if I discern aright is The Marshal's meaning. how wondrously the heavens clear The Prince.

whate'er he ask. And you. And on the instant I'll be at your side. Exeunt omnes. softly lays his arm about Natalie's A Natalie (tearing herself away). the scarf is round your neck. Bork! Quick! My scarf.THE PRINCE OF HOMBURG 449 A little space for me within your coach? I've just a dozen words to write to Kottwitz. me have your The Prince. as arm. Caesar Divus ! ! Vol. (to the First Lady-in-waiting.] . our battle-hero. I have set a ladder to thy star [He leads the ladies out. I beg Electress. I say let ! More. I have a wish. sits ! down and writes.] The Indeed. IV — 29 Lo. Mother! words — Oh. later. least of all! Come! The Prince. What matter? Not a suppliant on earth Could I deny today. The Prince Electress. — A wish to me? Princess. as he turns again to the Electress. waist). Indeed! Can you not guess? No — Not a syllable ? The Prince. something timorously to confide I thought I might give vent to on the road. Oh. Electress (abruptly). — [He Electress. we Come. I interpret them to suit me best? ride ! Be off. Electress). what did you speak? Those May Electress. then. . with all my heart Prince (folds the note and gives it to the Sergeant.

men found him in a church : What Where some one bound his deep and dangerous wounds. . my liege lord ! proof have you of that? Men of the cavalry can testify. In the church as well as in the square are men. In the back- ground the palace chapel with a staircase leading up to it. No. before The force of Colonel Hennings could destroy The bridges of the foe. The body of Froben is carried by and set on a splendid catafalque. Enough ! Our victory this day is great. Pleasure garden outside the old palace. The church is brightly illuminated. Elector. and. And tomorrow will I bear to God. Count Truchsz and several other colonels and minor officers enter. still would it not absolve in the church Him And through me. The Elector. was not the man? Truchsz. Electok. Yet though it were My gratitude Mightier tenfold. Who told me of 't before the fight began The Prince fell headlong from his horse.450 THE GERMAN CLASSICS Scene IX Scene: Berlin. — Prince Homburg. Colonel Hennings. you say. and forced the enemy to flight Ere I gave order for it. women and children of all ages. From the opposite side enter various officers with dispatches. I assert That man deserves that he be put to death I summon him therefore to be court-mar. then. Truchsz. and. of his own will Broke loose. demand subjection to the law. battles I whom still chance has granted it to More than this have I to fight. tialed. What man soever led the cavalry Upon the day of battle. Elector. Tolling of bells. Field-Marshal Dorfling. hurt At head and thigh.

dangerously? Count Truchsz! Forgive! The Prince {gaily). each with a flag. Elector. me So ? Elector. Truchsz! The Prince of Homburg! — What did you mean? Elector {amazed). In spite of it you led the cavalry? The Prince {regarding him). I 'm amazed ! The Prince. My sorrel fell before the fight began. ! And bring you thence these trophies of success the three flags before him. Relieve him of his sword. Whence came From [He lays cers. corporals. my liege. Captain Golz. Dorfling {taken aback). Count Truchsz. Dorfling {spying the Prince of Homburg). Count Hohenzollern. bearing two. The Prince you. Scene X The Prince of Homburg enters bearing three Swedish flags. He is a prisoner. I hear that you are wounded. Prince? {stepping forward a few paces). By heaven. Fehrbellin. I! Must you learn that from me? Here at your feet I laid the proof of that. Whom? . Count Reuss. and several other officers.] Elector {frigidly). each with his own. my friends. — Come. and troopers carrying flags. 451 And to court-martial herewith order him. follow me. kettle-drums and standards. the offi- corporals and troopers do likewise.THE PRINCE OF HOMBURG Whoever led the cavalry to battle. into the church. I? Indeed. This hand a field-leech bandaged up for Scarce merits that you call it wounded. I reaffirm has forfeited his head. followed by Colonel Kottwitz.

kettle-drums and standards. the Colonel takes up his two flags. I plan to- morrow To use them when we celebrate our triumph! [The Elector turns to the couriers. Elector. indeed! the time of Gustaf Adolf too. is't not? [He takes up a flag. Dorfling. Kottwitz Curses on it! Truchsz {aside). grant me a word. By God. Take all the things — What is't you wish? flags. unwinds it and studies — ! — it. Kottwitz Elector.] is Kottwitz {aside). . And hang them in the church.] " " Per aspera ad astral That was not {hesitantly).] Kottwitz. God greet you.452 THE GERMAN CLASSICS ! Elector {stepping among the flags). by the living God.] An Officer {stepping up Prince. takes their dispatches. My liege ? My And from lord and master? Ah. so that he is now bear- ing five. That flag is of the Swedish Guards. verified at Fehrbellin. opens and reads them. he takes up these also. Ah. That. I to the Prince). Elector. what a crop mown for our glory here Look. Dorfling. I believe How Kottwitz. I What did you say? Elector {looking at him). that too much ! [After some hesitation. Finally. runs the inscription? — [Pause. My liege. as the three flags of the Prince remain untouched. must beg your sword. the other officers and troopers follow suit. 'm utterly Kottwitz.

The Prince. dreaming? Waking? Living! Prince.] you'll be free. By God. 453 The Prince. friends. cousin Frederick hopes to play the Brutus My And sees himself. Were the Mark's armies beaten then? No matter! Hohenzollern (with a stamp of his foot). I counsel. friend. The Prince. so. Speak! Sane? Golz. in me he shall not find a son Who shall revere him 'neath the hangman's axe! . Am I Quiet now. The ordinance demands obedience. Golz (similarly). Help. help. And may one know Hohenzollern (emphatically). It will not cost your head. Already seated in the curule chair — The foreground flags. Golz. I'm going mad! Calm! calm! The Prince. on linen drawn with chalk. So — so. help! Golz (interrupting). you pressed too soon Into the battle. give your sword. maybe. A prisoner? I? Hohenzollern. filled with Swedish battle- And on his desk the ordinance of the Mark. at the time.THE PRINCE OF HOMBUKG Hohenzollern (carrying his flag). Tomorrow morning. when the order was You should not quit your place till you were called. letters and returns The Prince (after he has unbuckled his sword). The Prince (bitterly). and say nothing. why? Not now! We told you. Indeed ! You heard him say the reason it ! The Prince. so ! Hohenzollern (turning away from him). [The Elector folds his to the circle of officers.

I look for kindness and nobility. The Prince. Count The Prince.] Elector. are fastened Funeral music] ACT Scene: III Fehrbellin. imprisonment? ! Well. Hohenzollern. prayer at Froben's coffin. Bring him to camp at Fehrbellin. like some ancient man of stone. No ? No. I'm free of my Hohenzollern (amazed).454 THE GERMAN CLASSICS A German heart of honest cut and grain. Me? No. So then he's sent you back your sword again? The Prince. I'm sorry for him and I pity him. [He gives his sword to the officer and goes This moment. in the rear. frigidly. The flags follow him. [He enters the church. Faith. while he and his retinue kneel in to the pilasters. Scene I The Prince op Homburg. man. A prison. out. Then how can you be free ? . and. What was that? Free ? Hohenzollern. now. Two troopers as guards Hohenzollern enters. then. Hohenzollern. friend you are! Harry! Welcome. And when he stands before me. Lord in the heavens be praised The Prince. and there Assemble the court-martial for his trial.

Arthur. And. Have you seen anybody? scarcely frolicsome. I had my trial. The Prince. I of it? know of nothing. . Since it has suffered such a curious change? Prince. — What Hohenzoll. is Hohenzoll. on the sovereign's express command. The Swedish flags and standards over us Swung from the church's columns. Your name was spoken. Well. as the victor's name. my friend. you heard He '11 send some other one to let me know. the Elector. know.THE PRINCE OF HOMBURG The Prince {after a pause). Your name was spoken from the chancel high. Sit down.] Hohenzollern (regarding him The doubtfully). Has he returned. you Golz. do as well the heart's behest. I heard that. With the Electress and with Natalie. I thought that 455 you were bringing it. — did they celebrate Upon the palace-square artillery Through the Te Deum spoke with solemn splendor.] Now come and tell me all the news. just now. I' the Castle where. The Prince. [He turns and brings chairs. And The victory as planned? Assuredly! And he was at the church himself. What you and Golz and even the judges think — The Elector has And now he'll fulfilled what duty asked. Yes. [Pause. what other news ? What's — yours ? Your face. the Elector? Hohenzoll. The Prince. Yester eve. from Berlin? Hohenzoll. The church was wonderfully bright with lights . What do you think of your position. trophywise. What of it? Well. : The Prince.

would go so far one. Because of heaven alive. Hohenzollern. believe that still? it ! The Prince. Arthur! The Prince. Hohenzoll. was it . a son.] Well? . [He pauses. Arthur. Oh. The Prince. gravely: You have erred " death" and (Put in a word perhaps of " fortress "). you've stood your trial in And you martial. court- (significantly).456 THE GERMAN CLASSICS Thus he'll address me. have laid it out. But I grant — If not that. you your liberty again And round the sword that won his victory Perhaps there'll even twine some mark of grace . What doubt is in your heart that stirs you so ? Has he not ever seemed to take more joy loves like He me A Than I myself to see my young fame grow? All that I am. just because Too swiftly opulent it flowered forth? I '11 not believe his worst foe could think that — And Hohenzollern far less you who know and cherish him. am I not all through him? And he should now unkindly tread in dust The plant himself has nurtured. by Who did not have a pardon up his sleeve No ! Even Even there. my confidence returned. such a capital offense Two little seconds ere the order said To have laid low the stoutness of the Swede? What other felony is on my conscience? there it Come. before the judgment bar. since early childhood thousand signs have amply proven that. it was — was. So I good I did not merit that. Are you so very sure? I know he loves me.

Why should I fret with insubstantial doubts? sits [He bethinks himself and down again. enough! — — . Prince. ! I beg. drop by drop. he yields this heart That loves him truly. at a kerchief's fall. Ere that. You know it then so soon? The Prince. unfeelingly. man And it stirred you not at ! all ? The Prince. Pause.] The court was forced to make its verdict death For thus the statute reads by which they . judge. But.THE PRINCE OF HOMBURG And 457 could he summon me. But ere he let that sentence be fulfilled — Ere. My God. he'll lay his spill his And own breast bare own blood. in dust. to the muskets ' fire. Golz. Why. my dear! Hohenzoll. You maniac On what then do you prop your confidence ? On what I feel of him [He rises.] No more. the court has spoken judg- The ment. Did he not purpose with a sovereign word step into their circle like a god? No. Hohenzoll. The Marshal The Prince (still petulantly). they say. not in the least! ! The Prince. Hohenzollern (amazed). Come. I heard so : death. I assure you The Prince {petulantly). I say. who was present when they brought the verdict — Gave me report of how the judgment fell. Arthur. Me? Hohenzollern. he is gathering this night of cloud To About my head. Oh. this pleasure I begrudge him not ! Hohenzoll. And yet. that he may dawn Athwart the gloomy twilight like the sun! And. my friend. Hohenzoll. chanting Their litanies of bullets and the grave. faith. Before this board of owl-like judges.

I The verdict — do assure you ! The death warrant. Who was Hohenzollern. you that? The Prince.458 THE GERMAN CLASSICS Hear two words more ! Hohenzollern. The Prince. Returning from the sovereign? Hohenzoll. It leaves him liberty to pardon you. — No! By faith. a moment since. (turning to him again). the Marshal Delivered him the warrant for your death. No Hohenzollern. . scarce visible to the lens. Well. make no I'll be mute. The stairs descending from the sovereign. But he. If those The Prince impression. what is it? Hohenzoll. instead. and cast . — s I He could — I'll not believe it! — bring to birth Such monstrous resolutions in his heart? For a defect. when he saw my startled face. But the dead pallor of his lips disproved w Their spoken utterance. The warrant? Hohenzollern. I repeat! No matter? The Prince. matter. When? Hohenzoll. Tread in the dust the giver? 'Twere a deed To burn the Dey of Algiers white with wings Like those that silver-gleam on cherubim : To dizen Sardanapalus. Just now. I know all.. Most strange it is. The The Prince. has given the command y That it be brought him for his signature?' The Prince. Prince. And added. it told The Marshal. For — His signature? Hohenzollern. That nothing yet was lost. now. In the bright diamond he but just received. I told you. with. and that the dawn Would bring another day for pardoning. I fear it no The Prince (rising).

Consider ! The Peince. the lady has already chosen. my hope Hohenzoll. I am accountable Hohenzoll. what are you saying? Hohenzolleen. the Electress. friend Then help me Save me I am ! ! ! lost! Hohenzoll. by high heaven ! The very shadow of his head was sacred. My friend. my hope. I am! clear ! Are you? things are quite. Oh. Be it unconsciously or consciously. You feather-headed fool. the Ambassador of Sweden. Never. Ay. I am Has cut the sovereign to the very quick They say. Arthur. friend. The Peince. perchance. That might have given his lofty heart offense I Peince. the Electress? . Over upon the favor-hand of God! Hohenzollern (who has likewise risen). Because the Princess is betrothed to me.THE PRINCE OF HOMBURG The assembled tyrannies of ancient 459 Rome. heaven. Dear God. ! The Peince. word her aunt. Come. And A told with all authority His business concerns the Princess Orange. what have you done? How often have I warned you. loyally! The Peince. they say. The Marshal then was silent. And now all It is that wooing that destroys me if she refuse. would you like to see her aunt. Do not be angry. if I doubt. what expedient saves us in this gloom? Come. What should he say? ! The Oh. Are you in no way tangled up in this? . said nought else? Hohenzoll. have you ever done a thing. Are you? The Peince. spoke. Oh. Guiltless as babes that die on mother-breast. Never! Hohenzolleen. Hohenzoll. Count Horn has come. you must convince yourself of that The Prince.

] Scene III Boom of the Electress. watch! background). 'Twill do ! No matter. The order given me declares that I Shall leave you free to go where you desire. and call your officer takes a cloak from the wall and [He hastily puts on a plumed hat lying on the table. Here! ! The Prince.] (as he assists him) Adroitly used. this step may spell salvation. too. ' Stranz. By the determined forfeit. So. Most odd! Then I am not a prisoner? Your word of honor is a fetter. . well. Hohenzollern (preparing to go). The Prince Trooper (in the Ho. Hohenzollern Go. His heart. Officer.460 THE GERMAN CLASSICS (turning). will turn to you. with King Charles. The Prince. And in two minutes I am back again. For if the Elector can but make the peace. This is your Count Gustaf Horn. I go but to the Castle. The Prince. The Then fare you follows hard upon the Prince. Officer. The Prince. daughter mine. And in brief time you will be free once more. your custody Grant me my freedom for an hour's time. come now hour. The others as before. Come. my lord. to my aunt. Scene II The officer enters. . the Swedes' ambassador. The Electress and Natalie ! enter. Electress. you soon shall see. Not in my custody are you.j I have some urgent business on my mind. The Prince (to the officer). [Exeunt omnes. fetter Hohenzoll. they have put me in .

THE PEINCE OF HOMBURG And all is 461 the company have left the Castle. Lady-in-waiting. Lady-in-waiting. Who Electress (after To go and break his word knows what may torment him? a moment in thought). and you come ! ! hither? Why The Prince will you heap new guilt upon the old ? (urgently). There a light in Uncle's study Come. Dear God! Madam. Oh. Oh. the Prince of Homburg's at the door.] Scene IV A lady-in-waiting enters. Himself? Is he not prisoner? He stands without. But I am hardly sure that I saw right. put your kerchief on and steal on him. Electress (distressed). What are you doing here ? The Prince. still. do you know what they have done ? . oh. in plumed hat and cloak. Electress. And begs in urgent terror to be heard. [They are about to go. mother! Prince Electress.] Scene The Prince op Homburg V The others as before. Impulsive boy Natalie. enters. The Prince (throwing himself at the feet of the Electress). let me clasp your knees. Prince. Let him come ! ! ! [She seats herself. You are a prisoner. Natalie. Electress. And see if you can rescue yet your friend. Others as before. mother mine Electress (with suppressed emotion). Oh.

462 Electeess. You are beside yourself The Prince. ! in torchlight where they dug the grave That on the morrow shall receive my bones saw Look. pleading I could hang About his neck. With potencies of heaven. standing on life 's pinnacle. The windows on the Market that shall Upon the weary show are all reserved . deeply moved at his words. helpless I. least. [The Princess. and begins to iveep. Aunt. and impotent. But what can I do. You and my lady. crying Oh. tomorrow : lies And Stinking within the compass of two boards. Today beholds the future like a realm Of faery spread afar. mother mine. for you? The Prince. desolate. These eyes they would eclipse with night. death Had ever terribly encompassed you As it doth me. You will go forth with courage and calm soul. Oh. if such should be the will of heaven. You would not speak thus. only I. who until now has stood in the background supporting herself on the shoulder of one of the ladies-in-waiting. close And one who. all. Electress. : ! Electress. the meanest. My sinks into a chair. thou I. these eyes that gaze upon you now. That tends your horses. all if The world that rings me round. . save me. seem save. alone on God 's wide earth Am helpless.] son. blest to The very stable-boy. these who serve you. over him a stone recounts He was. on the way that led I ! What has occurred 1 me to your side. THE GERMAN CLASSICS Yes. this breast Pierce and transpierce with murderous musketry.

. you of the vow you made were your child. as though I Crying." There will I build and raze again to earth All tenderness within j . let me ! ! ! : Now. ! 463 mother. forget it not. before my hour strike. Set him free and return to me. erewhile. my son. not. Electress. to those black shadow-forms Why. God of heaven! Since I beheld my grave. With rank cashierment.THE PRINCE OF HOMBURG The Prince. you replied: Yea. why can it be nothing but the bullet 1 Let him depose me from my offices. I remind ! to him. God 's world. Moved to the depths. tell him this. that I my Desire Natalie no more. I will go seek my lands upon the Rhine. I want. Descend. I plead. life. saying as she died Be you his mother when I am no more. Aunt. as though I'd never been^l Freely let her bestow. he shall be to me as mine own child. up every claim to happiness. But all The Prince. not ere you promise on your soul. if the law demands. your childhood friend. H Free as the doe upon the meads is she. Control yourself The Prince. With sweating brow. Her hand and lips. go. And do not ask if it be kept with honor. arise What were those words ? You are too deeply moved. and sow and gather in. kneeling beside her bed. Oh. Dying at Homburg. and say 'Tis so Oh. gave me to you. is so beautiful Oh. I plead for mercy ! Go ! : ! Electress (weeping). Beloved son ! All has been done. and if it be The Swede Karl Gustaf I commend her choice. With a prostration that shall save my life Pleading to go before the sovereign presence. Over her spent hand bending. Arise. Hedwig. I give And supplications were in vain. Dismiss me from the army. life. for her A\ my heart is quenched.

that. / It [Pause. and teach his lips to falter Mother. poor devil. And round and round the treadmill chase my . your look declares. — The Prince (rises and turns toward the Princess). Return. say to comfort? Go to the Maiden's Chapter on the Main. The sun today you weep Lights all your expectations to their grave \ Your heart decided from the first on me. imperturbably Regard once more the grave they dug for you. You ne 'er shall dedicate with gold and silver. It is not gloomier. true as gold) Poor little girl. as she rises and lays her hand in Ms). on your passage. And. Enough! Now take your way home to your prison That is the first demand my favor makes. I counsel you. perhaps.] . ! ^ your heart anew. may avail. days Electress. and die. to move his heart And disenthrall you from all misery. enjoy alone And when the harvest 's gathered. light-curled as I. Seek in the hills a boy. what can I. saving word I'll chance. to your prison waUs. young hero. show him well : Buy him How men draw That is shut the eyelids of the dea<±\ the only joy that lies your way >» ! Natalie (bravely and impressively. nor more wide at all Than those the battle showed a thousand times. since I am true to you till death. And when he grows to manhood. unto my kin.464 THE GERMAN CLASSICS As though for wife and babe. sow again. to your breast Press him. '/ Indeed. A Meanwhile. go to your cousin Thurn. Until at evening they sink down. Oh.

My My noble uncle Frederick of the Natalie Mark ! Elector (laying the papers aside). cannot to him the brave man will submit. maid. ! be. that you should dare in matters such as this? Dear God.] ACT IV Scene: Room of the Elector. still some distance away. What is your wish? IV. Elector. Natalie. will know to conquer too in death Make haste! The favorable hour flies by! ! — ! The Prince. as he stands lost 465 m ! con- templation of her). lights.— 30 . Oh. ! [He seeks No. Vol. Scene The Elector with is I standing with documents in his hand near a table set Natalie enters through the centre door and. reviving me once The darts that find the marrow ! more ! God will hand me But if the Elector cannot move the law's Electress. Living. Now may all holy spirits guard your ! Farewell. no! to raise her. u should be sure you were an angel the quiver of your speech till now child. falls on her kn^es to him. [Exeunt omnes. Then so be it Outspoken word.] Natalie. farewell Grant me a word to way Whate 'er the outcome tell me how you fared. the conqueror a thousand times. dear approach The sovereign Natalie.THE PRINCE OF HOMBURG The Prince {folding his hands. An you Truly I had pinions on your shoulders. did I hear right ? You speak for me 1 Where has Lain hid. Bravely And he. light of hope.

once he had burst the bonds asunder. For this I plead. THE GERMAN CLASSICS As it behooves me. history Will not demand of you. such entreaty you will heed. independent. Which even ere it faltered Lo. for its mother's sake. ! ! And Was Natalie. then Put him to death that. Not for myself I wish to know him safe heart desires him and confesses it Not for myself I wish to know him safe . Electoe (raising her to her feet). You'll press it to your breast and cry: Weep not For you are dear as loyalty herself. dear uncle Well? Elector. Even as a flower in which I find delight . My little girl What words escaped your lips ? Are you aware of how your cousin Homburg Lately offended ? Natalie. this blond fault. it so slight? Oh. : ! — ' * ! ' ' — ! . Was it not ardor for your name 's renown That lured him in the fight's tumultuous midst To burst apart the confines of the law? And oh. My — — Free. my sovereign lord and friend. Let him go wed whatever wife he will. dear uncle. Trod he not bravely on the serpent's head? To crown him first because he triumphs. that he live. for her who bore it. Dear uncle mine. That were so stoical and so sublime That men might almost deem it was inhuman And God made nothing more humane than you. I pray Forgiveness should raise up from the earth Surely you will not spurn it with your foot? Why. unallied. unbound. at your feet in dust To plead your pardon for my cousin Homburg. I only ask. I know.466 Natalie. blue-eyed. surely. But.

The laws of war. 467 Sweet I child. however. know you no higher law than me Have you no inkling of a sanctuary That in the camp men call the fatherland? Natalie. luxuriant. The fatherland your hands upbuilt for us. Grow A beautiful with towers.THE PRINCE OF HOMBURG Elector. . look. consider ! If I were a tyrant. this fatherland Will not this moment crash to rack and ruin! The camp has been your school. has its charter. Have I the right the verdict which the court has : Elector. and the dread of foes. And And glorious autumn of my uncle 's days cousin Homburg thinks this? ! Cousin Homburg? . other greater storms indeed will bear this Than unnecessary victory. this act. what there You term unlawfulness. Majestically through the years to be It shall uprise. too. My And noble uncle. the felicity love it. must rule The heart. am indeed aware your words ere now Had thawed the heart beneath the iron breast. fairy country. Appears to me the very soul of law. is a fortress strong. And. Natalie. this free Suppression of the verdict of the court. But this I put to you To quash passed I Natalie. What would the issue be of For whom? For you? For me ? No such an act? ! Bah ! For me ! ! My girl. I am aware. My liege ! Why fret your soul ? Because of such Upstirring of your grace. need the cold cementing seal Of a friend's life-blood to outlast the calm It does not Of those who Elector. beneath your line expand.

no. . tell me.468 THE GERMAN CLASSICS Does he believe it Elector. ! ! him? Natalie (pressed against his breast). save one desire: To live. uncle dear. tell me all. that. sobbing. come He pleads for clemency? What has befallen. pitiable sight. Natalie. Whither in mantle. dearest Natalie! No. abashed. perturbed. matters not at all If license rule the fatherland. Elector. and he Stand by nor even ask What comes to pass ? Oh. You spoke with — Natalie. giddy and amazed. Desire is mute. A unworthy all. To Elector that I have no answer save my tears ! (in surprise). No. thinks ! of nothing now but one rescue The barrels at the marksmen's shoulders peer So ghastlily. The whole great nation of the Mark might sink flare and thunderbolt. my little girl? What has befallen? thing: Natalie (falteringly). and plumed hat Stealthily through the screening dusk he came — Furtive. lo. miserable. or law? This poor dear boy! Well. child? Why do you sob? You met? Come. Why He that. only not condemned him Come.] Elector (utterly amazed). Elector. now? Oh. what a hero's heart have you brought low! To wrack mid : — [She turns away. Natalie. In my aunt's chambers but a moment since. indeed! He pleads for clemency? Impossible! If you had only. I never guessed a man could sink so low Whom history applauded as her hero.

] Will you sit here and wait a little while? [He goes to the table.] Natalie (softly). I cancel the indictment If he can say the verdict is unjust. heart? is my Elector (writing). what is human greatness. though lion-like Death fiercely came. God of heaven and of earth! Take courage. seats himself and writes. and seals it. Elector. is it really true? Elector. wept ! . so void of all control. You will forgive him? And he need not die? Upon my word I swear it How shall I ! ! Oppose myself Within my heart of Ideeply to such a warrior's judgment? hearts. You heard. my girl.THE PRINCE OF HOMBURG For look 469 — I ara a woman and I shrink mere worm that draws too near From the my foot. my little niece. for he is free What. know well. thereupon he turns with the letter to the Princess). ! [He brings her a chair. But so undone. I say I'll send the necessary word at once. The Prince Natalie. Natalie. then. Well. Pause. then. he should not thus! find me ! Oh. dearest. by ! ! Oh. he is free . re- Well. Natalie. Why dost thou knock so at thy house. my daughter. as you do esteem his inner sense . human fame Elector (con fused). So unheroic quite. Elector. my liege lord? I pardon him. Natalie. over in the Castle? Pardon ! He Elector (finishes his letter has returned to his captivity. well.

lackeys! [Enter lackeys. and do you [He embraces her. in-waiting and Captain of Cavalry. Count? About of moment? letter).470 THE GEBMAN CLASSICS And I. Enter Princess Natalie. it Quick. The letter hold whate'er it may I trust That it hold pardon and I thank you for — — it. followed by two Count Reuss. Elector (presses the letter into her hand). indeed. so suddenly. Can it my regiment? wait a day? Reuss (handing her a Madam. ! Ho. Why Has urgent not? Go. Indeed. note for you from Colonel Kottwitz. But truly this.] Her ladyship Dear child. Scene II Room of the Princess. I do not know and do not seek to know What woke your favor. have the carriage up business with Colonel Homburg.] like me now once more? Natalie (after a pause).] Elector.] Now he can thank you for his life forthwith. liege. ladies- Natalie (precipitantly). As pardon lies in Cousin As sure Homburg 's wish. a Natalie (opening it).] Will you go bring the note to him yourself? How? To the City Hall? Natalie. What Is it is it. give me ! What's in it? . You would not make ignoble sport of me. whose place it Was forced to cloud ! is to make her glad the heaven of her fair eyes [He puts his arm about her. [She kisses his hand. my little girl. I feel this in my heart. [The lackeys go out.

Frankly addressed. the Prince. Each following each according to his rank. What? Truly? Natalie. wisely used. our colonel. Reuss. By my Wherefore there scarce is need for such a step. by none but Colonel Kottwitz. Natalie (reading). the Prince of Homburg. noble kinsman.THE PRINCE OF HOMBURG Reuss. In furtherance of our chief. Indeed. — whose [Pause. Reuss (delighted). most noble lady. mayhap. to introduce the issue.] . his Highness. to our liege lord. though deferentially. most submissively to beg If you. Reuss.] hand composed it. with your name? My [Pause. According to your wish. 471 A petition. which. Yet I'll not deny my hand Upon a document. loyally presented by The regiment of Princess Orange " — so. As you will note. I hear. " Petition. therefore. May prove a weight upon the scales to turn even prove Our sovereign's decision — Welcome. likewise. [She goes to a desk and is about to write. Natalie. And they sent me the supplication — me? lady. list. pray? As the formations of the dizzy script May let you guess. I set Myself here at your head and write my name. His noble name stands foremost on the The thirty signatures which follow it? The names of officers. at their bead Will fill the space left vacant. Natalie. our lord's own volition shall be freed.] Natalie. This document Reuss.

By God. now timorous! ! But The it occurs to me that happily Elector.472 Reuss. expand its force.] Natalie (turning him again). march back hither. as perchance you fear. Charged me to issue word that Kottwitz. THE GERMAN CLASSICS Indeed. the plea seems all too thin. you have our lively gratitude to ! [Pause. That they as well would sign the document ? Here in the city. I do believe That a petition might be safely launched To interview Amid the entire army of the Mark ! Natalie (after a pause). the gentlemen now here. Wherefore The document In all lacks freedom easily Natalie. while the other regiments Are quartered in the city here. the dragoons of Gotz and Anhalt-Pless? Not. because their hearts Are cooler in their throbbing than our own. He said that he desired to do no act That men might christen with an ugly name.] . It proves unfortunate for our petition That Kottwitz is in garrison apart At Arnstein. down at once and do it ! [She sits down and writes. Count. Count Reuss Why do I miss the Bomsdorf Cuirassiers And Reuss. Why does not some one send out officers To carry on the matter in the camp? Reuss. Are you sure. ! My regiment alone I find. if you were on the spot directions to — Reuss. Queer gentleman! Now bold. pressed by other business. Natalie. Pardon The Colonel put his foot on that. cribbed Too I will sit close in his position. as it stands. madam? Head for head! The entire cavalry would pledge itself With signatures. Yet.

] Meanwhile this note. Scene III The Prince's cell. is madam. during ivhich she steps thoughtfully to the table and draws on her gloves. on a mattress spread out on the floor. remains In your portfolio you will not go To Arnstein with it.] Count. Until I give more definite command. I desire to interview Prince Homburg. letter. Most excellent. [She finishes her note. ! 473 M By Heaven. According to the sovereign's order. ! one. and waiting. as well as you know how. seals it and rises to her feet again. Use it. The man who bears his head erect today . Count Reuss. my lady An event That could not timelier prove for our petition ! Natalie (as she writes). a place I put at your disposal. [Pause. The Prince of Homburg hangs his hat on the wall and sinks. is Madam. call it ready in the yard. come at once. a brief all life a pilgrimage. I'll to the door.] Follow. The coach Natalie.] I shall decide about the note erelong. Go.] [She gives him the A Lackey (entering). Will you escort me thither? In my coach There Reuss. nor convey 't to Kottwitz . I will recline upon the middle path. It well may be that there [Exeunt omnes. True — Of two short spans This side of earth to two short spans below. you understand. The dervish calls And that.THE PRINCE OF HOMBURG Rbuss. carelessly reclining. a great distinction. The Prince. I assure you — [He Natalie (to the ladies-in-waiting) offers her his arm. my friends ! — .

Beloved Natalie. no It is a dream Natalie. it lies Indeed. there On fields a skull beside his heel a sun. Her Highness Princess Natalie (rising). of Orange ! The Prince Natalie ! Footman.] The Prince. " My Prince of Homburg. all tremulous. It cannot be No. The Prince. when I made you prisoner Because of your too premature attack. rots. . . only pity 'tis that shall perceive the splendor. I beg Leave us a little moment to ourselves. and free here is a letter Writ by his hand to verify my words. Footman. I do believe The eye. Here she comes herself! Natalie (with a bow to the Count). lo. lady! Dear good cousin mine (leading her The Prince up stage). The Prince OF HOMBURG. that shines beyond e'en brighter than these ! is fields. Read Read the letter See it for yourself ! ! ! ! ! ! The Prince (reading).474 THE GERMAN CLASSICS No later than tomorrow on his breast Bows it. And. I thought that I was doing what was right No more and reckoned on your acquiescence. Well. [Count Reuss and the footman ! go. — . Another dawn. just as I prophesied. Scene IV Enter Princess Natalie on the arm of Count Reuss. A footman with a torch precedes them. they say. What Natalie. and followed by ladies-in-waiting. your news? with me? things is Speak! How stand All is well. Pardoned are you. it .

if you do not want to make me cross.] say. yes. panther-fashion.] Natalie (turning away with a sob). so ? letter The Prince (smiling). here the signature 1 The Oh.THE PRINCE OF HOMBURG If 475 you believe that I have been unjust. take it and write. take it. Natalie (interrupting). precious lady mine blessed hour that dawns across my world Oh. dear. if I believed The Prince. regards her questioningly. as the sea bring a chair. for he says. you in a word or two. His clemency limitless. of course! Quick now! Sit down.] Ah. Write. I wish to read the letter once again. Pause. Well. And forthwith I will send you back your Tell me. Do He — must write at once. And Natalie. Here.] . take the pen. ! ! The Prince. The Prince. My The Prince. who enters. [He down and seizes a pen. [The Prince rings for a lackey. I'll tell you what to [She sets a chair in place for him. I knew it. you act as though it had the power To plump down. Natalie (tearing the from his hand). Come. Truly. sit down and write. sweet friend ! [She presses his hand. ' ' [Natalie turns pale. Why. on sits my back. Natalie. I beg sword.] The Prince Natalie (feigning sudden jog). Did you not see the pit already Why Yawning beneath you in the graveyard yonder ? The time is urgent. Bork Is ! F — his mark ! ! Be glad with me. there it stands! It only needs two words.

Bah! That's a blackguard's wording. goes out. during which he tears the letter he has begun in two and throws the pieces under the table. most curious! You must Have overlooked the passage. Natalie.] silly A opening! [He takes another sheet.] Natalie (picking up the letter). and . God done with him ! of earth! Now The Prince all is Natalie. i' ! Well. and fine ! Exactly what a noble soul would say! His magnanimity is limitless ! But you. (to herself). [Pause. too. Bring pen and [The lackey. friend. look at this! As I'm alive.476 THE GERMAN CLASSICS paper. it to me ! You read (snatches it it ! The Prince from her).] is it. Why! Which one? calls on me to judge the case myself Gallant. Why. What if I did? to I only want to see How Natalie I'm phrase my answer. Pause. He The Prince. not a Prince's. Give Natalie. The Prince. it's excellent. The Prince writes. The Prince (under his breath). He clutches at the Elector's letter What which the Princess holds in her hand. I'll try to put it in some other way. The Prince. what of that? faith. having collected these and given