Works of Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
Page 233
That things familiar vivified can stir us;
When the enthusiasm long despis’d
Comes to us pleasantly from childish lips.
And so I plann’d to show her all the realm,
The peopled plains, the forest depths, the rivers,
And all the boundless majesty of ocean,
So that the intoxication of her gaze
When turn’d upon the infinite of space
Should fill my soul with infinite of love!
Secular Priest.
If thou, exalted Prince, didst not aspire
To spend the glorious days of fullest life
In contemplation, if activity
In doing for unnumber’d multitudes
Gave thee the precedent unto the throne
For noble service in the common good,
Instead of accident of kingly birth,
Thus in the name of all I summon thee:
Take courage! Let the melancholy hours
Which darken thy horizon be, for others,
Through consolation, counsel, aid, no less
Than for thyself, bright hours of happiness.
Duke.
How shallow and disgusting such a life,
Where every motion, every impulse brings
Ever new need of motion, need of impulse,
And no desir’d result at last rewards.
That did I see in her alone: for her
I strove and won with pleasure keen
That I might build a realm of pleasing fortune.
So I was genial, was a friend to all,
Obliging, quick, in deed and counsel lavish.
“It is the father in me that they love,”
I said; “they thank the father, and, in time,
The daughter will they welcome as their friend.”
Secular Priest.
No time is left for sentimental musings!
Exalted Prince, quite different thoughts demand thee.
Shall I the secret hazard? I the humblest
Among thy servitors? The eager glances
Of all are turn’d to thee, these dubious days,
Thy solid worth, thy strength undeviating.
Duke.
The happy man alone feels worth and strength!
Secular Priest.
The pain intense of woes intolerable
Are bail unto the moment for vast meaning.
Let me have pardon if I boldly wage
To speak the confidential tidings out!
How from below fermenting passions seethe!
How ineffectual the force above!
Not every one has sight to see but thou
More than the multitude in which I move.
Oh, do not falter now the storm draws nigh,
But seize the helm and guide the weltering ship
For the advantage of thy fatherland.
Forget thy grief: else will a thousand fathers
Like thee their children mourn, a thousand children
Call vainly for their fathers, and the cries
Of mourning mothers echo horribly
Against the pitiless hollow prison walls.
Oh, bring an offering of thy grief and pain
Unto the altar of the common weal.
And all whom thou wilt rescue from this doom
Thou shalt in compensation win as children.
Duke.
From gloomy corners do not raise again
The swarm opaque of spectres to oppress me,
Which through my daughter’s wonder-working power
Were often bann’d and readily put to flight.
That all-compelling might of love is vanish’d
Which sang unto my soul in pleasant dreams.
Now heavy on me weighs with solid pressure
The actual present, threatening to crush me.
Away! away! Take me from out the world!
And if the robe in which thou movest lie not,
Then lead me to the place where patience dwells, —
Unto the monastery, and leave me there
In universal silence, silent, bowed,
To sink, a weary mortal, to the vault.
Secular Priest.
Me scarcely it becomes to recommend
The world to thee: yet boldly will I speak!
Not in the grave nor yet upon the grave
The noble man will waste his wealth of longing.
He turns unto himself, and full of wonder
He finds the lost again within his heart.
Duke.
The fact that such a treasure still remains
When far and farther flies the treasure lost,
That is the torment which the parted member
Forever torn away must still renew
Upon the pang-wrench’d, palpitating body.
Dismember’d life who can unite again?
Annihilated! who rebuild?
Secular Priest.
The spirit!
The spirit of man for whom is nothing lost
Which once was priz’d and held in firm possession.
So lives Eugenie still, within thy mind,
Which she erewhile sustain’d, in which she stirr’d
Perception of the wondrous works of Nature.
Still as a lofty pattern doth she work,
Protecting thee from common things and bad
Which, every hour, may meet thee. And the glory
Reflected from her noble truth will banish
The empty falsehood that would sting thee.
So through her power feel that thy strength is doubled,
And give her back a life invulnerable
Which can be shatter’d by no earthly force.
Duke.
Nay, let some intricate net of death encoil me
With gloomy glowering web of woven dreams.
And, O thou image, perfect in thy beauty,
Remain for me forever young and changeless!
Around me let the pure light of thine eyes
Forever shine! Where’er my steps may wander
Do thou go with me, pointing out the way
Amid the thorny labyrinth of earth!
Thou art no figment of a dream! I see thee!
Just as thou wast, art thou. Almighty God
Conceiv’d thee perfect, perfect wast thou made.
Thou art a portion of the Infinite,
The Endless, and thou art forever mine.
ACT IV.
SCENE I.
Park at the port. On one side a palace, on the other a church; in the background a row of trees through which the port is seen below.Eugenie,enveloped in a veil, seated on a bench in the background, with face turned to the sea.
Governess. Counsellor.In the foreground.
Governess.
A wretched business unavoidably
Compels me from the Kingdom’s central heart,
The district of the capital, to seek
The limits of the solid land, this haven,
With strenuous care forever at my heels
And dubious distance ever beckoning on.
How would the counsel and the sympathy
Of some strong man reliable and noble
Shine on me as a blessed guiding star!
Forgive me, therefore, if I come to thee
And bring this charter which shall justify
The formidable purpose that I own!
For I have heard thy name in hearty praise
Once in the halls where righteous judgment sways
As worthy aid, but now as perfect judge.
Counsellor.
(Who meantime thoughtfully contemplates the paper.) Not my desert but my endeavor won
Perchance my meed of praise. But strange it seems
That him whom thou hast righteous call’d and noble,
Thou should’st demand in aid, and mock his eyes
With such a paper which can only fill
His bosom wit
h disgust and sheer abhorrence.
Of right, of judgment, let no word be spoken.
This deed is violence, is tyranny!
E’en if the treatment wise and skilful be!
A child of noble birth is given over
For death or life — I speak not too severely? —
Is given over to thy will alone.
All, be they officers, civilians, soldiers,
Are bidden to protect thee, and to do
To her whate’er thy word as law may say.
[Gives back the paper.
Governess.
Here show thy wisdom as a righteous umpire.
Let not this paper bring complaint alone!
To me, the deeply blamed, oh, lend an ear!
Consider favorably my proposition!
Of noble blood the peerless maiden sprang.
With every gift, with every virtue grac’d
By Nature as inalienable right,
E’en though the law denies her other
And now has banish’d her. ’Tis I must lead her
Forth from the circle of her friends and hence
Go with her as her guardian to the islands.
Counsellor.
To certain death she goes: where heated vapors
With slow insinuating poison work.
There must this flower of heaven quickly wither,
The color mantling on her cheek must fade!
The form must disappear which yearning eyes
Would ever wish to keep preserv’d from ill.
Governess.
Before thou judgest, listen to the end.
The girl is innocent (what need of proof?)
Yet is the cause of evils numberless.
An angry God between two parties plac’d her
Like Discord’s apple, and they now contend,
Forever separated on the question.
The one would see her rais’d to highest station,
The other strives to push her from the ground.
Both were of stout resolve. A labyrinth
Of cunning, weird devices hedg’d her fate,
Plot cross’d with counterplot and end was none
Until impatient passion brought a crisis,
Precipitating moments big with doom.
Dissimulation then forgot its bounds,
And violence fraught with peril to the State
Broke forth in all its threatening fury.
And now to keep the guilty from their guilt,
And check them, a decree divine is made
That strikes my charge, the innocent occasion
Of all the coil, and crushes me with her.
Counsellor.
The instrument I blame not, scarce can judge
Those powers that work with such high hand. Alas!
They also are the slaves of tyrant fate
And rarely act from free deliberation.
Solicitude and fear of greater evils
Ofttimes compel the monarch into deeds
Which are unjust and yet must needs be done.
Complete thy necessary task! Begone
Out of the narrow boundaries of my Eden.
Governess.
’Tis that I seek, and thither turn my steps,
In hope to find relief. Thou’lt not repulse me!
I long have tried to draw entrancing pictures
Before the worthy maiden of the pure delights
Which might await her in the calm contentment
Within the circles of the burgher classes.
If she would but renounce her high ambition
And claim the safeguard of an honest husband.
Would turn her eyes from sweet forbidden regions
Where danger, banishment and death surround her
To look with favor on a simple home,
Then all were solv’d, my bitter task fulfill’d,
And I, rejoicing in my fatherland,
Releas’d from care could still see peaceful hours.
Counsellor.
A web of wondrous circumstance thou showest.
Governess.
I show it to a wise and resolute man.
Counsellor.
A suitor to thy mind could win the maid?
Governess.
She should be his and richlydower’d withal.
Counsellor.
Who could so rashly make a grave decision?
Governess.
With sudden purpose inclination acts.
Counsellor.
To link one’s life with fate unknown were madness.
Governess.
One glance at her is warrant of her worth.
Counsellor.
The wife’s foes are the foes of husband also.
Governess.
When she is wed comes reconciliation.
Counsellor.
And will her husband know the maiden’s secret?
Governess.
If he is trusty, trust will be bestow’d.
Counsellor.
And will she freely sanction such alliance?
Governess.
A dread alternative will weight her choice.
Counsellor.
Is it fair to woo in such extremity?
Governess.
He who would rescue must not reason fine.
Counsellor.
Pray, what before all else dost thou demand?
Governess.
That thy resolve shall be confirm’d at once.
Counsellor.
And is the peril of thy fate so pressing?
Governess.
The busy sailors yonder spur the voyage.
Counsellor.
Hast thou advised her yet of such a step?
Governess.
I hinted thus with quick significance.
Counsellor.
And did she not, indignant, spurn the thought?
Governess.
Her former fortune then was all too nigh.
Counsellor.
The glorious fancies, will they ever fade?
Governess.
The awful ocean puts them all to flight.
Counsellor.
She hates to leave her fatherland forever?
Governess.
She hates to leave it, and to me ’tis death.
Thou, noble sir, by happy fortune found,
Oh, let us not exchange uncertain words.
Thy heart is young and in it dwells that virtue
That needs bright faith and uncondition’d love
For the accomplishment of treasur’d deeds.
In sooth a splendid circle hems thee round
Of men like thee — I would not say of equals.
Oh, look around thee! Look into thy heart
And look into the hearts of all thy friends!
And if thou find’st an overflowing measure
Of love, and charity and strength and courage,
Then let the most deserving take this jewel
And find the blessing that shall be his portion.
Counsellor.
I know, I feel thy dubious situation.
I cannot with myself discreetly balance,
As wisdom would demand, before I choose.
Let me converse with her.
[The Governess retires towards Eugenie. What must be done
’Tis fated will be done. In commonest things
Volition, choice determine much. The highest
That comes to us of good, who knows its source?
SCENE II.
Eugenie. Counsellor.
Counsellor.
E’en as thou comest to me, honor’d lady,
I almost doubt if they have told me truly.
Thou art unhappy, say they, yet thou bringest
Where’er thou art prosperity and fortune.
Eugenie.
If I o’erwhelm’d in tribulation find
The first to whom I turn my face and voice,
So kind an
d noble, as thou seem’st to me,
Then will my sorrow disappear, I hope.
Counsellor.
If on a man of wide experience
A lot like thine should fall, ‘twere pitiful.
But grief of youth when first oppress’d how sorely
It calls for sympathy and love’s protection.
Eugenie.
Thus but a little time ago I came
Up from the night of death to light of day.
I knew not what befell, what accident
Had hurl’d me headlong from the dizzy cliff.
Then suddenly I rose, I recogniz’d
The lovely world again. I saw the leech
Struggling to stir the dying flames again;
Found in my father’s loving glance, his voice,
My life again. And now a second time
I waken from a more disastrous fall.
Unknown and shadowy is the scene around me;
Strange to me are the faces of the men;
Thy gentleness itself is like a dream.
Counsellor.
If strangers feel for our adversity
Then are they nearer to us than our nearest,
Who often look upon our grief with coldness,
From very carelessness of wonted sight.
Thy case is perilous, but who can say
If yet there be not chance of safety for thee?
Eugenie.
No answer can I make. Unknown to me
The powers are which have brought about my exile.
The woman whom thou spokest with knows well
I suffer from the madden’d deeds of others.
Counsellor.
Although superior power with strenuous blow
Has stricken hard thy fault so innocent,
Thy error made so by an accident,
No less respect remains — and dawning love.
Eugenie.
The knowledge that my heart is pure within
Makes strange the consequence of little errors.
Counsellor.
’Tis sport to stumble on the level ground;
A single slip hurls from the precipice.
Eugenie.
Upon those heights I wander’d full of joy;
Excess of rapture caus’d my foot to fail.
The coming fortune I anticipated;
My hands already grasp’d the precious pledge.
A single moment and a little patience,
And, as I fondly thought, the whole was mine.
But rash desire o’erwhelm’d me. Swift temptation
Made havoc with my resolution. Was that it?
I saw, I told what was forbidden me
To see, to tell. Is such a trifling fault
So harshly punish’d? Does a lightly-given
Injunction, seeming like a jocular test,
Relentlessly condemn the breaker of it?
Oh, then ’tis true what ancient legends tell,
Once deem’d incredible. The momentary,