Lord Byron - Delphi Poets Series
Page 150
Gab. I have not yet put up myself to sale:
In the mean time, my best reward would be
A glass of your Hockcheimer — a green glass,
Wreathed with rich grapes and Bacchanal devices,
O’erflowing with the oldest of your vintage:
For which I promise you, in case you e’er
Run hazard of being drowned, (although I own
It seems, of all deaths, the least likely for you,) 300
I’ll pull you out for nothing. Quick, my friend,
And think, for every bumper I shall quaff,
A wave the less may roll above your head.
Iden. (aside). I don’t much like this fellow — close and dry
He seems, — two things which suit me not; however,
Wine he shall have; if that unlocks him not,
I shall not sleep to-night for curiosity.[Exit Idenstein.
Gab. (to Werner). This master of the ceremonies is
The intendant of the palace, I presume:
‘Tis a fine building, but decayed.
Wer. The apartment 310
Designed for him you rescued will be found
In fitter order for a sickly guest.
Gab. I wonder then you occupied it not,
For you seem delicate in health.
Wer. (quickly).Sir!
Gab. Pray
Excuse me: have I said aught to offend you?
Wer. Nothing: but we are strangers to each other.
Gab. And that’s the reason I would have us less so:
I thought our bustling guest without had said
You were a chance and passing guest, the counterpart
Of me and my companions.
Wer. Very true. 320
Gab. Then, as we never met before, and never,
It may be, may again encounter, why,
I thought to cheer up this old dungeon here
(At least to me) by asking you to share
The fare of my companions and myself.
Wer. Pray, pardon me; my health — —
Gab. Even as you please.
I have been a soldier, and perhaps am blunt
In bearing.
Wer. I have also served, and can
Requite a soldier’s greeting.
Gab. In what service?
The Imperial?
Wer. (quickly, and then interrupting himself).
I commanded — no — I mean 330
I served; but it is many years ago,
When first Bohemia raised her banner ‘gainst
The Austrian.
Gab. Well, that’s over now, and peace
Has turned some thousand gallant hearts adrift
To live as they best may: and, to say truth,
Some take the shortest.
Wer. What is that?
Gab. Whate’er
They lay their hands on. All Silesia and
Lusatia’s woods are tenanted by bands
Of the late troops, who levy on the country
Their maintenance: the Chatelains must keep 340
Their castle walls — beyond them ‘tis but doubtful
Travel for your rich Count or full-blown Baron.
My comfort is that, wander where I may,
I’ve little left to lose now.
Wer. And I — nothing.
Gab. That’s harder still. You say you were a soldier.
Wer. I was.
Gab. You look one still. All soldiers are
Or should be comrades, even though enemies.
Our swords when drawn must cross, our engines aim
(While levelled) at each other’s hearts; but when
A truce, a peace, or what you will, remits 350
The steel into its scabbard, and lets sleep
The spark which lights the matchlock, we are brethren.
You are poor and sickly — I am not rich, but healthy;
I want for nothing which I cannot want;
You seem devoid of this — wilt share it?
[Gabor pulls out his purse.
Wer. Who
Told you I was a beggar?
Gab. You yourself,
In saying you were a soldier during peace-time.
Wer. (looking at him with suspicion). You know me not.
Gab. I know no man, not even
Myself: how should I then know one I ne’er
Beheld till half an hour since?
Wer. Sir, I thank you. 360
Your offer’s noble were it to a friend,
And not unkind as to an unknown stranger,
Though scarcely prudent; but no less I thank you.
I am a beggar in all save his trade;
And when I beg of any one, it shall be
Of him who was the first to offer what
Few can obtain by asking. Pardon me.[Exit Werner.
Gab. (solus). A goodly fellow by his looks, though worn
As most good fellows are, by pain or pleasure,
Which tear life out of us before our time; 370
I scarce know which most quickly: but he seems
To have seen better days, as who has not
Who has seen yesterday? — But here approaches
Our sage intendant, with the wine: however,
For the cup’s sake I’ll bear the cupbearer.
Enter Idenstein.
Iden. ‘Tis here! the supernaculum! twenty years
Of age, if ‘tis a day.
Gab. Which epoch makes
Young women and old wine; and ‘tis great pity,
Of two such excellent things, increase of years,
Which still improves the one, should spoil the other. 380
Fill full — Here’s to our hostess! — your fair wife!
[Takes the glass.
Iden. Fair! — Well, I trust your taste in wine is equal
To that you show for beauty; but I pledge you
Nevertheless.
Gab. Is not the lovely woman
I met in the adjacent hall, who, with
An air, and port, and eye, which would have better
Beseemed this palace in its brightest days
(Though in a garb adapted to its present
Abandonment), returned my salutation —
Is not the same your spouse?
Iden. I would she were! 390
But you’re mistaken: — that’s the stranger’s wife.
Gab. And by her aspect she might be a Prince’s;
Though time hath touched her too, she still retains
Much beauty, and more majesty.
Iden. And that
Is more than I can say for Madame Idenstein,
At least in beauty: as for majesty,
She has some of its properties which might
Be spared — but never mind!
Gab. I don’t. But who
May be this stranger? He too hath a bearing
Above his outward fortunes.
Iden. There I differ. 400
He’s poor as Job, and not so patient; but
Who he may be, or what, or aught of him,
Except his name (and that I only learned
To-night), I know not.
Gab. But how came he here?
Iden. In a most miserable old caleche,
About a month since, and immediately
Fell sick, almost to death. He should have died.
Gab. Tender and true! — but why?
Iden. Why, what is life
Without a living? He has not a stiver.
Gab. In that case, I much wonder that a person 410
Of your apparent prudence should admit
Guests so forlorn into this noble mansion.
Iden. That’s true: but pity, as you know, does make
One’s heart commit these follies; and besides,
They had some val
uables left at that time,
Which paid their way up to the present hour;
And so I thought they might as well be lodged
Here as at the small tavern, and I gave them
The run of some of the oldest palace rooms.
They served to air them, at the least as long 420
As they could pay for firewood.
Gab. Poor souls!
Iden. Aye,
Exceeding poor.
Gab. And yet unused to poverty,
If I mistake not. Whither were they going?
Iden. Oh! Heaven knows where, unless to Heaven itself.
Some days ago that looked the likeliest journey
For Werner.
Gab. Werner! I have heard the name.
But it may be a feigned one.
Iden. Like enough!
But hark! a noise of wheels and voices, and
A blaze of torches from without. As sure
As destiny, his Excellency’s come. 430
I must be at my post; will you not join me,
To help him from his carriage, and present
Your humble duty at the door?
Gab. I dragged him
From out that carriage when he would have given
His barony or county to repel
The rushing river from his gurgling throat.
He has valets now enough: they stood aloof then,
Shaking their dripping ears upon the shore,
All roaring “Help!” but offering none; and as
For duty (as you call it) — I did mine then, 440
Now do yours. Hence, and bow and cringe him here!
Iden. I cringe! — but I shall lose the opportunity —
Plague take it! he’ll be here, and I not there!
[Exit Idenstein hastily.
Re-enter Werner.
Wer. (to himself). I heard a noise of wheels and voices. How
All sounds now jar me![Perceiving Gabor.
Still here! Is he not
A spy of my pursuer’s? His frank offer
So suddenly, and to a stranger, wore
The aspect of a secret enemy;
For friends are slow at such.
Gab. Sir, you seem rapt;
And yet the time is not akin to thought. 450
These old walls will be noisy soon. The baron,
Or count (or whatsoe’er this half drowned noble
May be), for whom this desolate village and
Its lone inhabitants show more respect
Than did the elements, is come.
Iden. (without).This way —
This way, your Excellency: — have a care,
The staircase is a little gloomy, and
Somewhat decayed; but if we had expected
So high a guest — Pray take my arm, my Lord!
Enter Stralenheim, Idenstein, and Attendants — partly his own, and partly Retainers of the Domain of which Idenstein is Intendant.
Stral. I’ll rest here a moment.
Iden. (to the servants).Ho! a chair! 460
Instantly, knaves. [Stralenheim sits down.
Wer. (aside).Tis he!
Stral. I’m better now.
Who are these strangers?
Iden. Please you, my good Lord,
One says he is no stranger.
Wer. (aloud and hastily). Who says that?
[They look at him with surprise.
Iden. Why, no one spoke of you, or to you! — but
Here’s one his Excellency may be pleased
To recognise.[Pointing to Gabor.
Gab. I seek not to disturb
His noble memory.
Stral. I apprehend
This is one of the strangers to whose aid
I owe my rescue. Is not that the other?
[Pointing to Werner.
My state when I was succoured must excuse 470
My uncertainty to whom I owe so much.
Iden. He! — no, my Lord! he rather wants for rescue
Than can afford it. ‘Tis a poor sick man,
Travel-tired, and lately risen from a bed
From whence he never dreamed to rise.
Stral. Methought
That there were two.
Gab. There were, in company;
But, in the service rendered to your Lordship,
I needs must say but one, and he is absent.
The chief part of whatever aid was rendered
Was his: it was his fortune to be first. 480
My will was not inferior, but his strength
And youth outstripped me; therefore do not waste
Your thanks on me. I was but a glad second
Unto a nobler principal.
Stral. Where is he?
An Atten. My Lord, he tarried in the cottage where
Your Excellency rested for an hour,
And said he would be here to-morrow.
Stral. Till
That hour arrives, I can but offer thanks,
And then — —
Gab. I seek no more, and scarce deserve
So much. My comrade may speak for himself. 490
Stral. (fixing his eyes upon Werner: then aside).
It cannot be! and yet he must be looked to.
‘Tis twenty years since I beheld him with
These eyes; and, though my agents still have kept
Theirs on him, policy has held aloof
My own from his, not to alarm him into
Suspicion of my plan. Why did I leave
At Hamburgh those who would have made assurance
If this be he or no? I thought, ere now,
To have been lord of Siegendorf, and parted
In haste, though even the elements appear 500
To fight against me, and this sudden flood
May keep me prisoner here till — —
[He pauses and looks at Werner: then resumes.
This man must
Be watched. If it is he, he is so changed,
His father, rising from his grave again,
Would pass by him unknown. I must be wary:
An error would spoil all.
Iden. Your Lordship seems
Pensive. Will it not please you to pass on?
Stral. ‘Tis past fatigue, which gives my weighed-down spirit
An outward show of thought. I will to rest.
Iden. The Prince’s chamber is prepared, with all 510
The very furniture the Prince used when
Last here, in its full splendour.
(Aside). Somewhat tattered,
And devilish damp, but fine enough by torch-light;
And that’s enough for your right noble blood
Of twenty quarterings upon a hatchment;
So let their bearer sleep ‘neath something like one
Now, as he one day will for ever lie.
Stral. (rising and turning to Gabor).
Good night, good people! Sir, I trust to-morrow
Will find me apter to requite your service.
In the meantime I crave your company 520
A moment in my chamber.
Gab. I attend you.
Stral, (after a few steps, pauses, and calls Werner).
Friend!
Wer. Sir!
Iden. Sir! Lord — oh Lord! Why don’t you say
His Lordship, or his Excellency? Pray,
My Lord, excuse this poor man’s want of breeding:
He hath not been accustomed to admission
To such a presence.
Stral. (to Idenstein). Peace, intendant!
Iden. Oh!
I am dumb.
Stral. (to Werner). Have you been long here?
Wer. Long?
Stral. I sought
An answer, not an echo.
Wer. You may seek
Both from the walls. I am not
used to answer
Those whom I know not.
Stral. Indeed! Ne’er the less, 530
You might reply with courtesy to what
Is asked in kindness.
Wer. When I know it such
I will requite — that is, reply — in unison.
Stral. The intendant said, you had been detained by sickness —
If I could aid you — journeying the same way?
Wer. (quickly). I am not journeying the same way!
Stral. How know ye
That, ere you know my route?
Wer. Because there is
But one way that the rich and poor must tread
Together. You diverged from that dread path
Some hours ago, and I some days: henceforth 540
Our roads must lie asunder, though they tend
All to one home.
Stral. Your language is above
Your station.
Wer. (bitterly). Is it?
Stral. Or, at least, beyond
Your garb.
Wer. ‘Tis well that it is not beneath it,
As sometimes happens to the better clad.
But, in a word, what would you with me?
Stral. (startled).I?
Wer. Yes — you! You know me not, and question me,
And wonder that I answer not — not knowing
My inquisitor. Explain what you would have,
And then I’ll satisfy yourself, or me. 550
Stral. I knew not that you had reasons for reserve.
Wer. Many have such: — Have you none?
Stral. None which can
Interest a mere stranger.
Wer. Then forgive
The same unknown and humble stranger, if
He wishes to remain so to the man
Who can have nought in common with him.
Stral. Sir,
I will not balk your humour, though untoward:
I only meant you service — but good night!
Intendant, show the way! (To Gabor.) Sir, you will with me?
[Exeunt Stralenheim and Attendants; Idenstein and Gabor.
Wer. (solus). ‘Tis he! I am taken in the toils. Before 560
I quitted Hamburg, Giulio, his late steward,
Informed me, that he had obtained an order
From Brandenburg’s elector, for the arrest
Of Kruitzner (such the name I then bore) when
I came upon the frontier; the free city
Alone preserved my freedom — till I left
Its walls — fool that I was to quit them! But
I deemed this humble garb, and route obscure,
Had baffled the slow hounds in their pursuit.
What’s to be done? He knows me not by person; 570
Nor could aught, save the eye of apprehension,
Have recognised him, after twenty years —
We met so rarely and so coldly in
Our youth. But those about him! Now I can
Divine the frankness of the Hungarian, who