Albert
None that I know of. Why do you ask the question?
Caspar
Look you, comrade — you heard what that old babbler Christopher suggested. The old man thought some one had practiced spells on you. Our warden is incredulous — but trust me, Albert, I have known such things.
Albert
Absurd! I never will believe such power exists—’tis contrary to common sense and reason.
Caspar
Contrary to reason! Aye, ever since the world began that is the cry of all your would-be wise men. Contrary to reason! And what, forsooth, is reason? What but a feeble taper that just illumes a little space about you, while all beyond is a wide waste of darkness. You think that little space the world of knowledge, but the first whiff of doubt puts out your light, and down goes worldly-wise man. Harkee, comrade! (Comes up to him) — I am a solitary man — a little strange perhaps — and wayward in my humours. My pleasure is to walk these wilds alone — to lurk in shades and glens and the deep woods’ dark bosom, where the loud babbling hound or saucy horn ne’er break the charm of silence. ’Tis in these sacred haunts shy Nature opes her mysteries, and to the musing eye of lonely mortals imparts strange secrets. These forest shades are full of wonders, could we read them rightly. In these my wanderings have I learnt some things you wise men scoff at as impossible. Believe me, comrade, there are things — aye, there is a thing — (Checks himself on observing an air of distrust in Albert) — How far think you may this rifle carry?
Albert
(With a look of surprise)
As far, I suppose, as any other rifle — eight hundred or a thousand yards.
Caspar
And think you at that distance you could kill your game?
Albert
Preposterous! What mean you, Caspar, by such questions?
Caspar
(Without seeming to pay attention to the question, Caspar gazes upwards as if looking for something in the air. Crosses to the rear and returns, muttering between his teeth) Has he then deceived me — No! ’tis there indeed! (He returns, hastily takes Albert by the arm, and points upward) — Look there!
Albert
Where?
Caspar
There — directly over that tall black fir! (With an air of satisfaction)—’Tis the great night vulture.
Albert
I see a black speck just against that rosy cloud. Ah! Sure enough — it moves. It may be a night vulture for aught I can distinguish; but what of that?
Caspar
(Fetches Albert’s rifle)
Here, shoot at it!
Albert
Are you mad, or do you deem me so? Why man, ’tis near half a mile high, and now the cloud is fading I can scarcely see it.
Caspar
You will not shoot at it? Then mark!
(Goes to the back of the stage and shoots. A laugh in the air). — Look! here he comes; dost see?
Albert
I see a whirl and fluttering of wings in the midway gloom. (A great eagle falls at his feet; he starts back with astonishment — gazes at it, then at Caspar). Art thou some Devil clothed in human form?
Caspar
(Affecting a careless air)
A simple hunter like thyself, good comrade; but one who unlike thee, doubts not of everything he cannot understand, nor measures Nature’s powers by scanty reason. (He takes up the bird and examines it). ’Tis as I thought, the great night vulture — and not ill shot i’faith. The ball has struck just underneath the wing. Here (to Albert), you may get it stuff’d, and lay it at your mistress’ feet — or let old Conrad hang it ‘mongst the stag horns in his Hall. (Albert takes up the vulture as if unconsciously. Caspar crosses, places one of the wing feathers in his hat, then turning suddenly to Albert) — By the bye — speaking of your mistress — tomorrow decides your loves and fortunes. I’faith, good comrade, you must shoot better than today or you stand little chance either for wife or office.
Albert
Why do you stab me with these cruel doubts? I fear indeed my case is hopeless.
Caspar
Nay, not hopeless — not altogether hopeless.’Tis true the chances are against you — your ill success of late has marr’d your confidence and this shooting for a mistress is not apt to make the hand more steady. The anxiety — the doubt —
Albert
Cease! cease, and do not torture me. (Leans against a tree in despair).
Caspar
Comrade, I feel for your distress — indeed I do. Poor Bertha too! She who so dotes on you!’Twill break her heart to see you fail. (Albert evinces great agitation). And yet this might be averted. Means there are that would insure success — but no, you’d never listen to them!
Albert
(With surprise)
Means to insure success! What means, Caspar?
Caspar
Oh nothing — nothing — idle talk — contrary to reason! You have never heard of charmed bullets, that are infallible?
Albert
I have — but hold it all for old wives’ gossip.
Caspar
Like enough — like enough — contrary to reason — contrary to reason. What think you of my bringing down that vulture from the clouds?
Albert
Was, then, your rifle charged with such a ball? (Caspar smiles). Speak, I entreat you, was it such a ball?
Caspar
It was! — Now think you — had you some such bullets!
Albert
Have you, then, more of them?
Caspar
That was my last.
Albert
Caspar, don’t trifle with me. I’ve too much at stake to bear this trifling.
Caspar
I am no trifler, comrade. Such balls are to be had — but on condition that — no, ’tis in vain — you’d never pay the price.
Albert
(Impetuously)
What price? Speak out — by heavens! I’ll not endure to have my mind disturbed by hints and vague suggestion.
Caspar
You must engage — you must agree to certain terms — trifling indeed to one whose life —— whose all depends upon success — to one whose soul like thine is bold and manly.
Albert
(Impatiently )
No flattery. Proceed — proceed!
Caspar
Aye, bold and manly — I say so without flattery. Did I not think thee such, I should have taken no interest in thy fate, but passed thee by like this same rabble rout of hunters that I scorn. Comrade, I speak of things too great for vulgar minds — of things that I have learnt in these dark forests. Believe me, there are mysteries which truly baffle all the force of reason. Such is the intercourse between us mortals and the world of Spirits. (Laying his hand on Albert’s arm) — Now, some weak natures tremble if you but name a Spirit!
Albert
(Steadfastly )
Speak out, man! To the point! What is all this to the purpose?
Caspar
I know thee brave, comrade — in common matters brave — but are you, as I deem you, above vulgar fears? Say — dare you hold communion with a spirit of air — a being of another world — who has the power to grant the aid you seek?
Albert
With whom? — What being?
Caspar
Thou hast heard of the Wild Huntsman?
Albert
(With an air of incredulity)
What — he that haunts the glens, and rides in air — the Phantom Hunter — Nimrod of the clouds and shadows — I’ve heard of such a sprite; the forest chronicles are full of him. Some say it is the spirit of a cruel huntsman, doomed for his crimes to wander restless in the night — to ride the storm and hunt about the world till Doomsday; but these are tales I heed not.
Caspar
Such a being there is! Mark me — there is. I speak not like others — from report; for I have seen him!
Albert
(With surprise)
S
een him! What is he then?
Caspar
That I know not. A being wrapped in fear and mystery — of powers vast, indefinite; but whether indeed a wizard of the earth, or some embodied phantom of the air — some supernatural agent, is more than I can say. He comes in gleams and shadows — he permits not his nature nor his powers to be questioned — he must be summoned by ceremonies and incantations.
Albert
(With horror)
And are such the means you would propose —— and is this the aid you would invoke!
Caspar
(Hastily interrupting him)
Pah! Pah! Consider, Albert, how thou’rt situated. Tomorrow is thy day of trial. — Tomorrow everything depends upon a chance, and that chance is against thee. What right hast thou to hope for better luck than what has dogged thee lately? Think’st thou a fluttering heart — a faltering hand — will guarantee success? I see thee foil’d, defeated — retiring midst the shrugs, the sneers, the taunts and scoffings of the vulgar throng of which thou’st had today a bitter foretaste. But what is worse —— thy gentle Bertha, she whose whole soul is bound up in thy love — I see her too — in bridal robes — a mark for sneer and jesting — the nuptial wreath turn’d to a crown of scorn — the wedding preparations turn’d to mockery. I see the roses fading from her cheek —
Albert
Oh God! Oh God!
Caspar
Well, I do not seek to torture thee. Let us reverse the picture. With the balls I proffer thee thy fortune is sure. I see thee crowned with triumph. The lovely Bertha decked in smiles and flowers comes blushing to receive thee — the nuptial throng conducts thee to the altar. I see thy dwelling blessed with love and beauty — a little paradise of sweets around thee.
Albert
(Much moved)
But is this being you speak of good or evil?
Caspar
Pah! Is this a time to stand on squeamish points? The happiness, the life of her who loves thee, hangs upon the moment. An earthly paradise — a certainty of present bliss is offered to thee. Seize it and trust not to the uncertain future. So thou art happy, think not of the means. Good spirit or bad, what is it to thee, so that the gift be good? For good is good whether from heaven or hell.
Albert
(Starting at the last word)
No gift is good that comes from evil power. Nor can that power be good that walks in darkness. I wake as from a dream. How for a moment have I been beguiled, and laps’d in thought from the strict path of honour! Away! away! I spurn thy proffered services. All magic means, if such there be, I scorn. On heaven and honest skill I rest my hopes, nor seek by juggling arts to cozen fortune.
Caspar
Poor feeble-hearted wretch! — I thought thou hadst more nerve and spirit. But thou art e’en a canting, virtuous driveller, fit only for the common rabble that I scorn. Henceforth I leave thee to thy fortune. But mark me, Sir (Walks close up to him) — I’ve talk’d to you in confidence, because I wished to serve you. I have foolishly opened my soul to you. Betray me, if you have the heart to do so; but recollect you must at the same time have the hand to answer for it.
Albert
Away! Away! Thy offer and thy threats are equally contemptible. To heaven I leave thee — I do naught but scorn and pity thee. (Exit Caspar).
Albert
Thank heaven, he’s gone! The very air seemed tainted by his presence. I blush to think that for a moment I should have listened to his temptings. What were success, gained by unworthy means? Nay, what were Bertha’s self, won by base acts? How could I e’er have borne her angel look? Her heavenly purity had been a ceaseless torment to me. Now can I clasp her to an honest heart and in her virtuous love find heaven on earth. — But are there powers like this he talks of — that move unseen around us and control our fate? Away with anxious doubts and gloomy fears! If there are powers of darkness to befriend bad men, sure there are spirits of light that guard the virtuous. In such I put my trust to bear me through my trial.
(Exit into the cottage)
ACT II, SCENE I
(A room in the home of Conrad, the Chief Forester, and father of Bertha)
Bertha
Nine o’clock, and Albert not come yet!
Nina
At what time did he promise to come, then?
Bertha
At eight precisely! Oh me — my heart is very heavy!
Nina
And all, forsooth, because your lover is an hour after his appointment!
Bertha
Nay, Nina, I fear something has happened to him. He was always so punctual.
Nina
This comes of one’s getting a character for punctuality. Give me a lover that never keeps an appointment — one that never comes when the door is open, but climbs into the window when I least expect him — one that never surprises me when he stays away, and always surprises me when he comes.
Bertha
Would, my dear Nina, I had thy light spirits. But in truth, I have a strange presentiment of evil; and then the Hermit spoke of some impending danger hanging over me.
Nina
Hanging over you! Why, it was that old picture hanging over you — and that fell just now — just as you had passed thro the door. It’s a mercy it had not fallen on your head — it must have killed you.
Bertha
That is the picture of my ancestor, the founder of our house — the first who had the place which my father holds of Hereditary Grand Forester.
Nina
Indeed! a worthy old gentleman! Pity he could not keep quiet, however.
Bertha
There’s some old saying about that picture, which I do not recollect—’Tis strange that it should fall, for it was well secured. I’m almost tempted to believe it ominous. Would Albert were come! My mind misgives me, Nina.
Nina
Lud! my dear, I don’t wonder at your being hipped a little — for two poor girls like us to be all alone in this great rambling house in the midst of the forest! The evening, too, before your marriage, when one is so apt to be nervous. And then, instead of a visit from your lover, to have your great-grandfather popping upon you uninvited from the wall. For my part, I don’t like such visitors — I’m for the young and the living.
POLACCO
Nina
Heigh-ho! I hope I shall one day marry a forester.
Bertha
Why so, Nina?
Nina
Because you know none but a forester’s bride may wear green trimmings; and I should so like to be married in such a pretty dress. Lud! my dear, how fine you will look in your white and green, and your wreath of white roses! Well, well — a forester for my money!
Bertha
Ah, Nina, you little think upon a forester’s life — so full of fatigue and danger!
Nina
Well, my dear, what’s a man good for — that can’t face danger? Oh, give me a lover that is always hunting and chasing, like another Nimrod; one that serenades me with the hunter’s horn under my window — and never comes without a grinning wolf’s head to lay at my feet. Lud — Lud — how I should like a husband that was fond of the sport, racketing about the forest and breaking his neck every day in the year!
Bertha
Don’t talk of dangers, Nina. My mind runs on them too dismally already. — What can keep Albert?
Nina
Nay, my dear Bertha, I only meant to cheer you by my gossip. Would you had not seen the Hermit! Come, cheer up, I must give orders that your father’s breakfast be ready betimes in the morning. He goes early to the hunt. I will be here again in a moment, dear Bertha. (Exit, with a lamp).
Bertha
Was that a footstep! Alas, no, he comes not! How tedious seem the moments of a lover’s absence!
RECITATIVE
(Albert appears at the window, which is open)
Bertha
Albert! Albert! Yes,’tis he!
Albert
My Bertha! (Embraces her).
Bertha
Have you then come at last? Why have you staid so long? I feared some evil had befallen you. You look pale and agitated. Sure something is wrong. Some danger has beset you.
Albert
Say rather some good fortune. Proceeding hither thro the forest a wolf of monstrous size rush’d from the thicket and would have crossed my path. But for once my aim was sure. I left him weltering in his blood. See here the trophy in my hat. (Forcing a smile) — This is good luck, my love. Let’s take it as an omen of success tomorrow.
Bertha
(Shaking her head doubtingly)
I hope it may be; but in sooth my mind is filled with fears. The good Hermit too warns me of threatening danger. And see, just as the clock struck seven, yon portrait of my ancestor fell from its fastening on the wall and nearly crushed me.
Albert
Just as the clock struck seven! (Aside) — Most strange!—’Twas then that Caspar brought the eagle from the cloud!
Complete Fictional Works of Washington Irving (Illustrated) Page 229