by Lord Byron
Iden. Was there no cause assigned?
Fritz. Plenty, no doubt,
And none, perhaps, the true one. Some averred
It was to seek his parents; some because
The old man held his spirit in so strictly
(But that could scarce be, for he doted on him);
A third believed he wished to serve in war,
But, peace being made soon after his departure,
He might have since returned, were that the motive; 120
A fourth set charitably have surmised,
As there was something strange and mystic in him,
That in the wild exuberance of his nature
He had joined the black bands, who lay waste Lusatia,
The mountains of Bohemia and Silesia,
Since the last years of war had dwindled into
A kind of general condottiero system
Of bandit-warfare; each troop with its chief,
And all against mankind.
Iden. That cannot be.
A young heir, bred to wealth and luxury, 130
To risk his life and honours with disbanded
Soldiers and desperadoes!
Fritz. Heaven best knows!
But there are human natures so allied
Unto the savage love of enterprise,
That they will seek for peril as a pleasure.
I’ve heard that nothing can reclaim your Indian,
Or tame the tiger, though their infancy
Were fed on milk and honey. After all,
Your Wallenstein, your Tilly and Gustavus,
Your Bannier, and your Torstenson and Weimar, 140
Were but the same thing upon a grand scale;
And now that they are gone, and peace proclaimed,
They who would follow the same pastime must
Pursue it on their own account. Here comes
The Baron, and the Saxon stranger, who
Was his chief aid in yesterday’s escape,
But did not leave the cottage by the Oder
Until this morning.
Enter Stralenheim and Ulric.
Stral. Since you have refused
All compensation, gentle stranger, save
Inadequate thanks, you almost check even them, 150
Making me feel the worthlessness of words,
And blush at my own barren gratitude,
They seem so niggardly, compared with what
Your courteous courage did in my behalf — —
Ulr. I pray you press the theme no further.
Stral. But
Can I not serve you? You are young, and of
That mould which throws out heroes; fair in favour;
Brave, I know, by my living now to say so;
And, doubtlessly, with such a form and heart,
Would look into the fiery eyes of War, 160
As ardently for glory as you dared
An obscure death to save an unknown stranger,
In an as perilous, but opposite, element.
You are made for the service: I have served;
Have rank by birth and soldiership, and friends,
Who shall be yours. ‘Tis true this pause of peace
Favours such views at present scantily;
But ‘twill not last, men’s spirits are too stirring;
And, after thirty years of conflict, peace
Is but a petty war, as the time shows us 170
In every forest, or a mere armed truce.
War will reclaim his own; and, in the meantime,
You might obtain a post, which would ensure
A higher soon, and, by my influence, fail not
To rise. I speak of Brandenburgh, wherein
I stand well with the Elector; in Bohemia,
Like you, I am a stranger, and we are now
Upon its frontier.
Ulr. You perceive my garb
Is Saxon, and, of course, my service due
To my own Sovereign. If I must decline 180
Your offer, ‘tis with the same feeling which
Induced it.
Stral. Why, this is mere usury!
I owe my life to you, and you refuse
The acquittance of the interest of the debt,
To heap more obligations on me, till
I bow beneath them.
Ulr. You shall say so when
I claim the payment.
Stral. Well, sir, since you will not —
You are nobly born?
Ulr. I have heard my kinsmen say so.
Stral. Your actions show it. Might I ask your name?
Ulr. Ulric.
Stral. Your house’s?
Ulr. When I’m worthy of it, 190
I’ll answer you.
Stral. (aside). Most probably an Austrian,
Whom these unsettled times forbid to boast
His lineage on these wild and dangerous frontiers,
Where the name of his country is abhorred.
[Aloud to Fritz and Idenstein.
So, sirs! how have ye sped in your researches?
Iden. Indifferent well, your Excellency.
Stral. Then
I am to deem the plunderer is caught?
Iden. Humph! — not exactly.
Stral. Or, at least, suspected?
Iden. Oh! for that matter, very much suspected.
Stral. Who may he be?
Iden. Why, don’t you know, my Lord? 200
Stral. How should I? I was fast asleep.
Iden. And so
Was I — and that’s the cause I know no more
Than does your Excellency.
Stral. Dolt!
Iden. Why, if
Your Lordship, being robbed, don’t recognise
The rogue; how should I, not being robbed, identify
The thief among so many? In the crowd,
May it please your Excellency, your thief looks
Exactly like the rest, or rather better:
‘Tis only at the bar and in the dungeon,
That wise men know your felon by his features; 210
But I’ll engage, that if seen there but once,
Whether he be found criminal or no,
His face shall be so.
Stral. (to Fritz). Prithee, Fritz, inform me
What hath been done to trace the fellow?
Fritz. Faith!
My Lord, not much as yet, except conjecture.
Stral. Besides the loss (which, I must own, affects me
Just now materially), I needs would find
The villain out of public motives; for
So dexterous a spoiler, who could creep
Through my attendants, and so many peopled 220
And lighted chambers, on my rest, and snatch
The gold before my scarce-closed eyes, would soon
Leave bare your borough, Sir Intendant!
Iden. True;
If there were aught to carry off, my Lord.
Ulr. What is all this?
Stral. You joined us but this morning,
And have not heard that I was robbed last night.
Ulr. Some rumour of it reached me as I passed
The outer chambers of the palace, but
I know no further.
Stral. It is a strange business:
The Intendant can inform you of the facts. 230
Iden. Most willingly. You see — —
Stral. (impatiently).Defer your tale,
Till certain of the hearer’s patience.
Iden. That
Can only be approved by proofs. You see — —
Stral. (again interrupting him, and addressing Ulric).
In short, I was asleep upon my chair,
My cabinet before me, with some gold
Upon it (more than I much like to lose,
Though in part
only): some ingenious person
Contrived to glide through all my own attendants,
Besides those of the place, and bore away
A hundred golden ducats, which to find 240
I would be fain, and there’s an end. Perhaps
You (as I still am rather faint) would add
To yesterday’s great obligation, this,
Though slighter, yet not slight, to aid these men
(Who seem but lukewarm) in recovering it?
Ulr. Most willingly, and without loss of time —
(To Idenstein.) Come hither, mynheer!
Iden. But so much haste bodes
Right little speed, and — —
Ulr. Standing motionless
None; so let’s march: we’ll talk as we go on.
Iden. But — —
Ulr. Show the spot, and then I’ll answer you. 250
Fritz. I will, sir, with his Excellency’s leave.
Stral. Do so, and take yon old ass with you.
Fritz. Hence!
Ulr. Come on, old oracle, expound thy riddle!
[Exit with Idenstein and Fritz.
Stral. (solus). A stalwart, active, soldier-looking stripling,
Handsome as Hercules ere his first labour,
And with a brow of thought beyond his years
When in repose, till his eye kindles up
In answering yours. I wish I could engage him:
I have need of some such spirits near me now,
For this inheritance is worth a struggle. 260
And though I am not the man to yield without one,
Neither are they who now rise up between me
And my desire. The boy, they say, ‘s a bold one;
But he hath played the truant in some hour
Of freakish folly, leaving fortune to
Champion his claims. That’s well. The father, whom
For years I’ve tracked, as does the blood-hound, never
In sight, but constantly in scent, had put me
To fault; but here I have him, and that’s better.
It must be he! All circumstance proclaims it; 270
And careless voices, knowing not the cause
Of my enquiries, still confirm it. — Yes!
The man, his bearing, and the mystery
Of his arrival, and the time; the account, too,
The Intendant gave (for I have not beheld her)
Of his wife’s dignified but foreign aspect;
Besides the antipathy with which we met,
As snakes and lions shrink back from each other
By secret instinct that both must be foes
Deadly, without being natural prey to either; 280
All — all — confirm it to my mind. However,
We’ll grapple, ne’ertheless. In a few hours
The order comes from Frankfort, if these waters
Rise not the higher (and the weather favours
Their quick abatement), and I’ll have him safe
Within a dungeon, where he may avouch
His real estate and name; and there’s no harm done,
Should he prove other than I deem. This robbery
(Save for the actual loss) is lucky also;
He’s poor, and that’s suspicious — he’s unknown, 290
And that’s defenceless. — True, we have no proofs
Of guilt — but what hath he of innocence?
Were he a man indifferent to my prospects,
In other bearings, I should rather lay
The inculpation on the Hungarian, who
Hath something which I like not; and alone
Of all around, except the Intendant, and
The Prince’s household and my own, had ingress
Familiar to the chamber.
Enter Gabor.
Friend, how fare you?
Gab. As those who fare well everywhere, when they 300
Have supped and slumbered, no great matter how —
And you, my Lord?
Stral. Better in rest than purse:
Mine inn is like to cost me dear.
Gab. I heard
Of your late loss; but ‘tis a trifle to
One of your order.
Stral. You would hardly think so,
Were the loss yours.
Gab. I never had so much
(At once) in my whole life, and therefore am not
Fit to decide. But I came here to seek you.
Your couriers are turned back — I have outstripped them,
In my return.
Stral. You! — Why?
Gab. I went at daybreak, 310
To watch for the abatement of the river,
As being anxious to resume my journey.
Your messengers were all checked like myself;
And, seeing the case hopeless, I await
The current’s pleasure.
Stral. Would the dogs were in it!
Why did they not, at least, attempt the passage?
I ordered this at all risks.
Gab. Could you order
The Oder to divide, as Moses did
The Red Sea (scarcely redder than the flood
Of the swoln stream), and be obeyed, perhaps 320
They might have ventured.
Stral. I must see to it:
The knaves! the slaves! — but they shall smart for this.
[Exit Stralenheim.
Gab. (solus). There goes my noble, feudal, self-willed Baron!
Epitome of what brave chivalry
The preux Chevaliers of the good old times
Have left us. Yesterday he would have given
His lands (if he hath any), and, still dearer,
His sixteen quarterings, for as much fresh air
As would have filled a bladder, while he lay
Gurgling and foaming half way through the window 330
Of his o’erset and water-logged conveyance;
And now he storms at half a dozen wretches
Because they love their lives too! Yet, he’s right:
‘Tis strange they should, when such as he may put them
To hazard at his pleasure. Oh, thou world!
Thou art indeed a melancholy jest![Exit Gabor.
Scene II. — The Apartment of Werner, in the Palace.
Enter Josephine and Ulric.
Jos. Stand back, and let me look on thee again!
My Ulric! — my belovéd! — can it be —
After twelve years?
Ulr. My dearest mother!
Jos. Yes!
My dream is realised — how beautiful! —
How more than all I sighed for! Heaven receive
A mother’s thanks! a mother’s tears of joy!
This is indeed thy work! — At such an hour, too,
He comes not only as a son, but saviour.
Ulr. If such a joy await me, it must double
What I now feel, and lighten from my heart 10
A part of the long debt of duty, not
Of love (for that was ne’er withheld) — forgive me!
This long delay was not my fault.
Jos. I know it,
But cannot think of sorrow now, and doubt
If I e’er felt it, ‘tis so dazzled from
My memory by this oblivious transport! —
My son!
Enter Werner.
Wer. What have we here, — more strangers? —
Jos. No!
Look upon him! What do you see?
Wer. A stripling,
For the first time —
Ulr. (kneeling). For twelve long years, my father!
Wer. Oh, God!
Jos. He faints!
Wer. No — I am better now — 20
Ulric! (Embraces him.)
Ulr. My father, Siegendorf!
Wer. (starting).
Hush! boy —
The walls may hear that name!
Ulr. What then?
Wer. Why, then —
But we will talk of that anon. Remember,
I must be known here but as Werner. Come!
Come to my arms again! Why, thou look’st all
I should have been, and was not. Josephine!
Sure ‘tis no father’s fondness dazzles me;
But, had I seen that form amid ten thousand
Youth of the choicest, my heart would have chosen
This for my son!
Ulr. And yet you knew me not! 30
Wer. Alas! I have had that upon my soul
Which makes me look on all men with an eye
That only knows the evil at first glance.
Ulr. My memory served me far more fondly: I
Have not forgotten aught; and oft-times in
The proud and princely halls of — (I’ll not name them,
As you say that ‘tis perilous) — but i’ the pomp
Of your sire’s feudal mansion, I looked back
To the Bohemian mountains many a sunset,
And wept to see another day go down 40
O’er thee and me, with those huge hills between us.
They shall not part us more.
Wer. I know not that.
Are you aware my father is no more?
Ulr. Oh, Heavens! I left him in a green old age,
And looking like the oak, worn, but still steady
Amidst the elements, whilst younger trees
Fell fast around him. ‘Twas scarce three months since.
Wer. Why did you leave him?
Jos. (embracing Ulric).Can you ask that question?
Is he not here?
Wer. True; he hath sought his parents,
And found them; but, oh! how, and in what state! 50
Ulr. All shall be bettered. What we have to do
Is to proceed, and to assert our rights,
Or rather yours; for I waive all, unless
Your father has disposed in such a sort
Of his broad lands as to make mine the foremost,
So that I must prefer my claim for form:
But I trust better, and that all is yours.
Wer. Have you not heard of Stralenheim?
Ulr. I saved
His life but yesterday: he’s here.
Wer. You saved
The serpent who will sting us all!
Ulr. You speak 60
Riddles: what is this Stralenheim to us?
Wer. Every thing. One who claims our father’s lands:
Our distant kinsman, and our nearest foe.
Ulr. I never heard his name till now. The Count,
Indeed, spoke sometimes of a kinsman, who,
If his own line should fail, might be remotely
Involved in the succession; but his titles
Were never named before me — and what then?
His right must yield to ours.