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Works of Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Page 229

by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Appreciates and treasures the full worth

  Of this day’s gift and of the future promise,

  Then art thou sure of his recognizance.

  King.

  ‘Twill not be long before we meet again.

  Upon my birthday when my faithful friends

  Unite to celebrate the festal season,

  That day, O noble maid, I will present thee

  Before the wondering world, the court, thy father,

  Myself. The glory of the throne will shield thee.

  But till that hour let both of you keep counsel,

  Let no one know the history of this day.

  Distrustful jealousy is lurking round.

  Wave follows wave; storm treads the heel of storm.

  Our journey trends along the jagged shore

  Where e’en the helmsman scarcely knows the course.

  Close secrecy alone secures our acts.

  A plan disclos’d has pass’d beyond thy power.

  This very moment chance makes sport of will.

  E’en he who can command must work in secret.

  Yea! with the best will in the world we fail

  Accomplishment, a thousand crossing ours.

  Oh, if my honest wishes had the aid

  Of perfect power for but a little time,

  The meanest hearthstone in my kingdom’s bounds

  Should feel a father’s warm solicitude,

  Content should dwell beneath the humblest roof,

  Content should dwell in ev’ry stately palace,

  And when I once had tasted this delight,

  I’d gladly yield my crown, renounce the world.

  SCENE VI.

  Duke. Eugenie.

  Eugenie.

  Oh, what a day of jubilant surprises!

  Duke.

  Oh, might I live from day to day like this!

  Eugenie.

  What wealth of fortune has the King bestow’d!

  Duke.

  Take pure delight in his unlook’d-for favor.

  Eugenie.

  He seems unhappy, and he is so good.

  Duke.

  Goodness itself oft rouses opposition.

  Eugenie.

  Who is so hateful as to set against him?

  Duke.

  The advantage of the whole needs strenuous vigor.

  Eugenie.

  The mildness of the King should breed like mildness.

  Duke.

  The mildness of the King breeds insolence.

  Eugenie.

  With what nobility has Nature form’d him!

  Duke.

  Yet far too high in station has she plac’d him.

  Eugenie.

  With what consummate virtues rich endow’d!

  Duke.

  Domestic virtues not the gift of ruling.

  Eugenie.

  The blossom of an ancient stock of heroes!

  Duke.

  Perchance the vigor fails in later scions.

  Eugenie.

  It is our duty to defend all weakness.

  Duke.

  Unless our greater strength he should suspect.

  Eugenie.

  (Aside.) His subtile reasoning fills me with suspicion.

  Duke.

  What are thy thoughts? Hide not thy heart from me!

  Eugenie.

  (After a pause.) Thou art then one of those whom he distrusts.

  Duke.

  Let him distrust those worthy of distrust.

  Eugenie.

  Shall we see secret foes invest his throne?

  Duke.

  He who conceals a danger is a foe.

  But whither do our counsels lead us, daughter?

  How has the most extraordinary fortune

  Brought us, short cut, upon the goal desir’d.

  I build without foundation, filling thy mind

  With wild confusion when I should enlighten.

  Yet must thy rapturous joy of childhood vanish

  When once thou steppest foot within the world.

  Not long the intoxicating sweets of peace

  Could’st thou delight in mid its blinding scenes.

  The goal is thine, but its false crown has torn

  Thy tender hand with cruel hidden spines.

  Beloved child, I would it were not so!

  Far better were it, as I fondly hop’d,

  To wont thee by degrees to all its trials,

  To teach thee by degrees the bitter lesson

  That dearest hopes must fade, fond wishes fail.

  But now a sudden change has come upon thee!

  As though thy fall from yonder crag were symbol,

  Down thou hast plung’d where cares and danger dwell.

  The very air is poison’d with suspicion,

  And Envy keeps the feverish blood astir,

  And gives its victims to Anxiety.

  Alas! for aye the wall of Paradise,

  Which safely held thee, has been torn away.

  The holy lesson of thy innocence

  No longer shields me from the world’s temptations.

  Forth must thou with me till the net surround us —

  Perplex’d, sore wounded, needing pity, both!

  Eugenie.

  Not so, my father! If until to-day

  Inactive, kept aloof, immur’d alone,

  A childish cypher, yet by very force

  Of lacking individuality

  I caus’d thee consolation, comfort, pleasure,

  How vastly more then should thy daughter be

  Now that her fate is woven into thine,

  And all its threads in varied glory shine!

  Part will I take in ev’ry noble deed,

  In ev’ry great transaction which will bring

  My father dearer to the State and King.

  My eager mind, the force of youth and health

  Inspiring me, will give thee freshen’d zeal,

  Will drive away those visions of despair

  Which rise when on the laboring breast of man

  The monstrous burden of the world is laid.

  If once, a child, in moments of depression

  I offer’d thee good-will however helpless,

  Love poor in deeds, and idle fond caresses,

  So now I hope to win a daughter’s birthright

  By faithful service, having learn’d thy wishes,

  Initiated in the secrets of thy plans.

  Duke.

  What thou through this important step wilt lose

  Seems worthless to thee and without reward.

  What thou expectest thou dost prize too high.

  Eugenie.

  To share with highly-gifted, fortunate men

  The use of power, the wealth of influence!

  For generous souls what more attractive prize!

  Duke.

  ’Tis true! Forgive me if thou findest me

  At this hour weaker than becomes a man.

  Most wonderful is this exchange of duties,

  I ought to lead thee and thou art my leader.

  Eugenie.

  Well, then, my father, let us boldly climb

  Up to those regions where before my ken

  A new sun rises with enkindling rays.

  And at this happy moment only smile,

  If I disclose to thee in turn the cares

  That burden me.

  Duke.

  Yea, tell me what they are.

  Eugenie.

  A host of weighty moments fill men’s lives,

  Besieging now with joy and now with sorrow

  Their hearts. The man may in such circumstances

  Forget his outward show before the world;

  Not so the woman; she desires to shine

  By fair appropriate habit and adornment, —

  An envied object in the eyes of others.

  This have I often heard and often notic’d.

  And now the crowning moment of my life

  Has come, and I a
m willing to confess

  That I am guilty of this woman’s weakness.

  Duke.

  What canst thou wish for that will not be thine?

  Eugenie.

  Thou art inclin’d, I know, to grant me all.

  And yet the all-important day is nigh —

  Too nigh to make the fitting preparation.

  And all the silks, embroideries and laces,

  And all the jewelry needful for adornment,

  How can they be provided, how completed?

  Duke.

  A long-desir’d good fortune has surpris’d us,

  Yet not quite unprepar’d may we receive it;

  All that thou now desirest is at hand.

  This very day gifts that thou didst not dream of

  Lie waiting for thee in a worthy coffer.

  But one slight trial must I put upon thee —

  The foretaste of severer ones to come!

  Here is the key; take watchful care of it,

  And curb thy longing. Open not the box

  Which holds this treasure till I give thee leave.

  Share trust with no one, be it who it may.

  Wisdom advises and the King demands it.

  Eugenie.

  Thou layest a heavy burden on a maiden,

  Yet I will bear it, father, take my oath.

  Duke.

  My wild unworthy son is on the watch

  To spy the quiet paths where thou art led.

  The little portion of my substance treasur’d

  For thy protection he already covets.

  And if he knew that thou by royal favor

  Wert lifted to a higher station where

  Thy right and his were on an equal level,

  How he would rage! And would he not exert

  All spiteful wiles to block our pleasant plan?

  Eugenie.

  Then let us quietly await that day!

  And when the deed is done that justifies me

  In calling him my brother, be it mine,

  By gentle words, by courteous behavior,

  To win him back to reverence and affection.

  He is thy son, and should he not, like thee,

  Be fashion’d in the mould of love and reason?

  Duke.

  No miracle would be too great for thee.

  But work them for the advantage of my house.

  And now farewell! Yet now — alas! in parting

  I feel once more the pangs of cruel fear.

  Here in my arms I held thee lying dead!

  And here Despair with tiger clutches tore me.

  Who will dispel the vision from my eyes?

  I saw thee dead! Thus wilt thou oft appear

  Before me in the watches of the night,

  In visions of the day. Away from thee

  Have I not ever been distraught by fear?

  No longer will it be the mind’s distemper;

  It is a real irradicable vision:

  My child, Eugenie, of my life the life,

  Wan, prostrate, breathless, lifeless there.

  Eugenie.

  Oh, call not back what thou should’st now forget.

  My fall and my escape should rather seem

  The earnest of my wonderful good fortune.

  Living, thou seest me before thy eyes.

  [Embracing him.

  And living, on thy heart thou feelest me.

  So let me ever, ever thus return!

  And with the touch of glowing, loving life

  Blot out the loathsome sight of hated Death.

  Duke.

  How can a child appreciate the pangs

  A father feels at thought of threaten’d loss?

  I will confess that oftentimes thy courage,

  Almost o’erweening, when, upon the steed

  Seeming a part of thee, and full of fire,

  More like a Centaur with its doubled vigor,

  Thou hast o’er vale and mountain boldly dash’d,

  Through stream and gully flashing like a bird,

  Has fill’d my heart with greater fear than joy.

  Henceforth I pray thy gallant course conform

  More moderately to knighthood’s joyous practice.

  Eugenie.

  Before the careless, Danger yields the palm;

  She often takes the careful by surprise.

  Oh, feel once more that limitless keen joy

  Which thou didst feel when, as a little child,

  I boldly waged to do the deeds of prowess

  Taught by thy knightly pride of fatherhood.

  Duke.

  My fault has found me out, and now a life

  Of ceaseless worriment must punish me.

  Does not the courting of the dangerous

  Invite the danger that it holds in store?

  Eugenie.

  ’Tis Luck not Carefulness that conquers danger.

  Farewell, my father; follow now thy King,

  And be, if only for thy daughter’s sake,

  His blameless vassal and his faithful friend.

  Farewell!

  Duke.

  Oh, do not go! Remain with me,

  Yet standing in this place alive, erect,

  As when thou cam’st to life again, rejoicing

  With healing balm my sadly riven heart.

  Let not this hour of bliss remain unfruitful.

  This spot I dedicate to be a lasting

  Memorial. Here shall rise a splendid temple

  To keep the record of thy fortunate healing.

  Thy hand shall here create a fairy kingdom.

  A labyrinth of gentle ways shall join

  The savage forest and the bristling jungle;

  The steep crag shall become accessible;

  This brook shall fall in musical cascades,

  And loiter with its sparkling waters pure.

  The stranger wandering through this novel scene

  Shall deem that he has found a Paradise.

  Here, while I live, no gun shall loudly echo,

  No bird shall miss her mate, no antler’d stag

  Fly frighten’d, wounded, shatter’d, from his haunt.

  And hither, when my eyes have lost their sight,

  My limbs their strength, with thee, my child, for guide,

  My steps will gladly turn in pilgrimage.

  Ever shall gratitude my bosom fill.

  And now farewell! But stay. Why dost thou weep?

  Eugenie.

  Oh, if my father tremblingly forebodes

  The losing of his daughter, how shall I

  Not likewise feel (how can I say it, think it?)

  The pain of separation which must come?

  Fathers bereav’d might draw an angel’s pity;

  But sadder is the lot of children orphan’d.

  And I, most miserable, should stand alone

  Within the desert of this wild, fierce world!

  How could I bear to lose my sole protector?

  Duke.

  As thou hast given me strength, I now return it.

  Take comfort! let us boldly onward press.

  Life is the pledge of life! Upon itself

  It builds and for itself alone must answer.

  So let us quickly make our last adieu,

  And may a joyous meeting recompense

  The sorrow and the weakness of this parting!

  [They hastily embrace and separate: from a distance they turn and wave a last greeting with outstretched hand and exit.

  ACT II.

  SCENE I.

  Eugenie’sapartment in Gothic style.

  Governess. Secretary.

  Secretary.

  Do I deserve that thou should’st flee me thus

  The moment that I bring thee wish’d-for tidings?

  Pray listen first to what I have to say.

  Governess.

  The burden of thy importunity

  Too well I ween. Oh, let my eyes from seeing

  The w
ell-known glances, let my ears from hearing

  The well-known accents ever turn away.

  Let me escape the devastating power

  Which through the influence of love and friendship

  Beside me like a gloomy spectre stands.

  Secretary.

  When I before thee suddenly would pour,

  After long hope deferr’d, the golden horn

  Of fortune, when the morning-glow begins

  That marks the dawning of the blissful day

  That shall unite our lives forevermore,

  Then seemest thou embarrass’d and reluctant

  To meet thy bridegroom’s tenderest advances.

  Governess.

  Therein thou showest me one side alone:

  It glows and glistens like the world in sunshine.

  But black night’s horror threatens nigh: I feel it.

  Secretary.

  Then let us first see but the lovely side.

  Desirest thou a dwelling in the city,

  Spacious and handsome, furnish’d splendidly,

  Such as one wishes for himself, for guests?

  ’Tis waiting for thee: when next winter comes

  ‘Twill find thee settl’d nobly, if thou wilt.

  In Springtime dost thou yearn to see the country,

  There too a house is ours, a lovely garden,

  A fertile field. And all the keen enjoyment

  In forest, moors, in meadows, brooks and ponds

  That fancy e’en in visions might imagine

  Shall we possess, in part our own estate,

  In part as common property. And thus,

  Since nothing goes for rent, by careful saving

  We shall be able to secure our future.

  Governess.

  The picture that thou paintest with such hues

  Before my eyes is wrapp’d in gloomy clouds.

  For not desirable but hideous seems

  The abundance offer’d by the worldly gods.

  What is the sacrifice they ask? To ruin

  My gentle pupil’s happiness and fortune!

  And whatsoe’er a crime like that might bring me,

  Could I enjoy it with a quiet mind?

  Eugenie! thou whose pure and gentle nature

  From earliest youth entrusted to my guidance

  With rich fruition has develop’d nobly.

  How can I now distinguish in thee what

  Is thine and what thou hast to thank me for?

  Thee whom I love as my own handiwork

  Must I then pluck out from my heart and ruin?

  Of what base stuff are ye compos’d, ye monsters,

  To dare demand a deed like this for lucre!

  Secretary.

  A good and honest heart preserves from youth

  A store of precious treasures which in time

  More costly grow and worthier of our love

  To serve withal the Godhead of the temple.

  Yet, when the mighty power that governs us

  Demands a costly sacrifice, we yield it

 

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