Works of Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
Page 177
Clavigo.
Hear me, sir — I am — I have — I doubt not —
Beaumarchais.
Interrupt me not. You have nothing to say to me and much to hear from me. Now, to make a beginning, have the goodness, in presence of this gentleman, who has come from France expressly with me, to declare: whether my sister has deserved this public outrage from you through any treachery, levity, weakness, rudeness, or any other blemish.
Clavigo.
No, sir. Your sister, Donna Maria, is a lady overflowing with wit, amiability and goodness.
Beaumarchais.
Has she ever during your acquaintance given you any occasion to complain of her, or to esteem her less?
Clavigo.
Never! never!
Beaumarchais.
(Rising up.) And why, monster, had you the barbarity to torture the girl to death? Only because her heart preferred you to ten others, all more honorable and richer than you?
Clavigo.
Ah, sir! If you knew how I have been instigated; how I, through manifold advisers and circumstances —
Beaumarchais.
Enough! (To St. George.) You have heard the vindication of my sister; go and publish it. What I have further to say to the gentleman, needs no witnesses. (Clavigo rises. St. George retires.) Remain! remain! (Both sit down again.) Having now got so far, I shall make a proposal to you, which I hope you will accept. It is equally agreeable to you and me that you do not wed Marie, and you are deeply sensible that I have not come to play the part of a theatrical brother, who will unravel the drama, and present a husband to his sister. You have cast a slur upon an honorable lady in cold blood, because you supposed that in a foreign land she was without prop and avenger. Thus acts a base, worthless fellow. And so, first of all, testify with your own hand, spontaneously, with open doors, in presence of your servants, that you are an abominable man, who have deceived, betrayed my sister without the least cause; and with this declaration I set out for Aranjuez, where our ambassador resides; I show it, I get it printed, and after to-morrow the court and the town are flooded with it. I have powerful friends here, I have time and money, and of all shall I avail myself, to pursue you in the most furious manner possible, till the resentment of my sister is appeased and satisfied, and she herself says, “Stop.”
Clavigo.
I will not make such a declaration.
Beaumarchais.
I believe that, for in your place neither perhaps would I do it. But here is the reverse of the medal. If you do not write it, I remain from this moment beside you, I quit you no more, I follow you everywhere, till you, disgusted with such society, have sought to get rid of me behind Buenretiro. If I am more fortunate than you, without seeing the ambassador, without speaking here with any one, I take my dying sister in my arms, place ner in my carriage, and return to France with her. Should fate favor you, I am played out, and so you may have a laugh at our expense. Meanwhile, the breakfast.
[Beaumarchais rings the bell. An attendant brings the chocolate. Beaumarchais takes a cup, and walks in the adjoining gallery, examining the pictures.
Clavigo.
Air! air! I have been surprised and seized like a boy. Where are you then, Clavigo? How will you end this? How can you end it? Frightful position, into which your folly, your treachery has plunged you! (He seizes his sword on the table.) Ha! short and good! (Lays it down.) And is there no way, no means, but death — or murder? — horrible murder! To deprive the hapless lady of her last solace, her only stay, her brother! To see gushing out the blood of a noble, brave man! And to draw upon yourself the double, insupportable curse of a ruined family! Oh, this was not the prospect when this amiable creature, even from your first meeting, attracted you with so many winsome ways! And when you abandoned her, did you not see the frightful consequences of your crime? What blessedness awaited you in her arms! in the friendship of such a brother! Marie! Marie! Oh, that you could forgive! that at your feet I could atone for all by my tears! — And why not? — My heart overflows; my soul mounts up in hope! Sir!
Beaumarchais.
What is your determination?
Clavigo.
Hear me! My deceit towards your sister is unpardonable. Vanity has misled me. I feared by this marriage to ruin all my plans, all my projects for a world-wide celebrity. Could I have known that she had such a brother, she would have been in my eyes no unimportant stranger; I would have expected from our union very considerable advantages. You inspire me, sir, with the highest esteem, and in making me so keenly sensible of my errors, you impart to me a desire, a power, to make all good again. I throw myself at your feet! Help! help, if it is possible, to efface my guilt and put an end to unhappiness. Give your sister to me again, sir, give me to her! How happy were I to receive from your hand a wife and the forgiveness of all my faults!
Beaumarchais.
It is too late! My sister loves you no more, and I detest you. Write the desired declaration, that is all that I exact from you, and leave me to provide for a choice revenge.
Clavigo.
Your obstinacy is neither right nor prudent. I grant you that it does not depend on me, whether I will make good again so irremediable an evil. Whether I can make it good? That rests with the heart of your excellent sister whether she may again look upon a wretch who does not deserve to see the light of day. Only it is your duty to ascertain that and to conduct yourself accordingly, if your demeanor is not to resemble the inconsiderate passion of a young man. If Donna Maria is immovable! Oh, I know her heart! Oh, her good, her heavenly soul hovers before me quite vividly! If she is inexorable, then it is time, sir.
Beaumarchais.
I insist on the vindication.
Clavigo.
(Approaching the table.) And if I seize the sword?
Beaumarchais.
(Advancing.) Good, sir! Excellent, sir!
Clavigo.
(Holding him back.) One word more! You have the better case; let me have prudence for you. Consider what you are doing. Whether you or I fall, we are irrecoverably lost. Should I not die of pain, of remorse, if your blood should stain my sword, if I, to complete her wretchedness, bereft her of her brother; and on the other hand — the murderer of Clavigo would not recross the Pyrenees.
Beaumarchais.
The vindication, sir, the vindication!
Clavigo.
Well! be it so. I will do all to convince you of the upright feeling with which your presence inspires me. I will write the vindication, I will write it at your dictation. Only promise me not to make use of it till I am able to convince Donna Maria of the change and repentance of my heart, till I have spoken to her elder sister; till she has put in a good word for me with my beloved one. Not before, sir.
Beaumarchais.
I am going to Aranjuez.
Clavigo.
Well then, till your return, let the vindication remain in your portfolio; if I have not been forgiven, then let your vengeance have full swing. This proposal is just, fair and prudent; and if you do not agree to it, let us then play the game of life and death. And whichever of us two become the victim of his own rashness, you and your poor sister will suffer in any case.
Beaumarchais.
It becomes you to pity those whom you have made wretched.
Clavigo.
(Sitting down.) Are you satisfied?
Beaumarchais.
Well, then, I yield the point. But not a moment longer. I come from Aranjuez, I ask, I hear! And if they have not forgiven you, which is what I hope and desire, I am off directly with the paper to the printing-office.
Clavigo.
(Takes paper.) How do you demand it?
Beaumarchais.
Sir! in presence of your attendants.
Clavigo.
Why?
Beaumarchais.
Command only that they are present in the adjoining gallery. It shall not be said that I have constrained you.
Clavigo.
What scruples
!
Beaumarchais.
I am in Spain and have to deal with you.
Clavigo.
Now then! (Rings. A servant.) Call my attendants together, and betake yourselves to the gallery there. (The servant retires. The rest come and occupy the gallery.) You allow me to write the vindication?
Beaumarchais.
No, sir! Write it, I beg you — write it, as I dictate it to you. (Clavigo writes.) “I, the undersigned, Joseph Clavigo, recorder of the king” —
Clavigo.
“Of the king.”
Beaumarchais.
“Acknowledge that after I was received into the family of Madame Guilbert as a friend” —
Clavigo.
“As a friend.”
Beaumarchais.
“I made her sister, Mademoiselle de Beaumarchais, a promise of marriage, repeated many times, which I have unscrupulously broken.” Have you written it? —
Clavigo.
My dear sir!
Beaumarchais.
Have you another expression for it?
Clavigo.
I should think —
Beaumarchais.
“Unscrupulously broken.” What you have done you need not hesitate to write. — ”I have abandoned her, without any fault or weakness on her part having suggested a pretext or an excuse for this perfidy.”
Clavigo.
Come!
Beaumarchais.
“On the contrary, the demeanor of the lady has been always pure, blameless, and worthy of all honor.”
Clavigo.
“Worthy of all honor.”
Beaumarchais.
“I confess that, through my deceit, the levity of my conversations, the construction of which they were susceptible, I have publicly humiliated this virtuous lady; and on this account I entreat her forgiveness, although I do not regard myself as worthy of receiving it.” (Clavigo stops.) Write! write! “And this testimony of my own free will, and unforced, I have given, with this especial promise, that if this satisfaction should not please the injured lady, I am ready to afford it in every other way required. Madrid.”
Clavigo.
(Rises, beckons to the servants to withdraw, and hands him the paper.) I have to do with an injured, but a noble man. You will keep your word, and put off your vengeance. Only on this consideration, in this hope, I have granted you the shameful document, to which nothing else would have reduced me. But before I venture to appear before Donna Maria, I have resolved to engage some one to put in a word for me, to speak in my behalf — and you are the man.
Beaumarchais.
Do not reckon on that.
Clavigo.
At least make her aware of the bitter heartfelt repentance which you have seen in me. That is all — all that I beg of you; do not deny me this; I should have to choose another less powerful intercessor, and even you owe her anyhow a faithful account. Do tell her how you have found me!
Beaumarchais.
Well! this I can do, this I shall do. Good-by, then.
Clavigo.
Farewell! (He wishes to take his hand; Beaumarchais draws it back.)
Clavigo.
(Alone.) So unexpectedly from one position into the other. It is an infatuation, a dream! — I should not have given this vindication. — It came so quickly, so suddenly, like a thunder-storm!
Carlos enters.
Carlos.
What visit is this you have had? The whole house is astir. What is the matter?
Clavigo.
Marie’s brother.
Carlos.
I suspected it. This old dog of a servant, who was formerly with Guilbert, and who at present acts the spy for me, knew yesterday that he was expected, and found me only this moment. He was here then?
Clavigo.
An excellent young man.
Carlos.
Of whom we shall soon be rid. Already I have spread nets on his way! — What, then, was the matter? A challenge? An apology? Was he very hot, the fellow?
Clavigo.
He demanded a declaration, that his sister gave me no occasion for the change in my feelings towards her.
Carlos.
And have you granted it?
Clavigo.
I thought it was best.
Carlos.
Well, very well! Was that all?
Clavigo.
He insisted on a duel or the vindication.
Carlos.
The last was the most judicious. Who will risk his life for a boy so romantic? And did he exact the paper with violence?
Clavigo.
He dictated it to me, and I had to call the servants into the gallery.
Carlos.
I understand! ah! now I have you, little master! That will prove his ruin. Call me a scrivener, if I have not in two days the varlet in prison and off for India by the next transport.
Clavigo.
No, Carlos. The matter stands otherwise than as you think.
Carlos.
How?
Clavigo.
I hope through his intervention, through my earnest endeavors, to obtain forgiveness from the unhappy lady.
Carlos.
Clavigo!
Clavigo.
I hope to efface all the past, to heal the breach, and so in my own eyes and in the eyes of the world again to become an honorable man.
Carlos.
The devil! Have you become childish? One can still detect the bookworm in you. — To let yourself be so befooled! Do you not see that that is a stupidly laid plan to entrap you?
Clavigo.
No, Carlos, he does not wish marriage; they are even opposed to it; she will not listen to aught from me.
Carlos.
That is the very point. No, my good friend, take it not ill; I may, perhaps, in plays have seen a country squire thus cheated.
Clavigo.
You pain me. I beg you will reserve your humor for my wedding. I have resolved to marry Marie of my own accord, from the impulse of my heart. All my hope, all my felicity, rests on the thought of procuring her forgiveness. And then away, Pride! Heaven still lies, as before, in the breast of this loved one. All the fame which I acquire, all the greatness to which I rise will fill me with double joy, for it is shared by the lady who makes me twice a man. Farewell! I must hence. I must at least speak with Guilbert.