In overwhelming unison With just Jehovah's wrath? Faph. Can rage and justice join in the same path? Raph. Patriarch! be still a father! smooth thy Nor perish like Heaven's children with Man's Aho. The tempest cometh; Heaven and Earth Unequal is the strife Between our strength and the Eternal Might! Sam. But ours is with thee: we will bear ye far Where thou and Anah shall partake our lot: Anah. Oh my dear fatlier's tents, my place of And mountains, land, and woods! when ye are not Thy Spirit-lord. Aza... Shall henceforth be but weak: the flaming sword, - Which chased the first-born out of Paradise, Still flashes in the angelic hands. Aza. It cannot slay us: threaten dust with death, How vain to war with what thy God commands: Enter Mortals, flying for refuge. The heavens and earth are mingling-God! O God!' What have we done? Yet spare ! To which the elements again repair, These darken'd clouds are not the only skies. [Azaziel and Samiasa fly off, and disappear with Anah and Aholibamah. Faph. They are gone! They have disappear'd Of the forsaken world; and never more, Chorus of Mortals. Oh, son of Noah! mercy on thy kind! What, wilt thou leave us all-all-all behind? Thou sitt'st within thy guarded ark? A Mother [offering her infant to Japhet]. Oh, I brought him forth in woe, To see him to my bosom clinging so. What hath he done My unwean'd son To move Jehovah's wrath or scorn? Chorus of Mortals. For prayer!!! And where Shall prayer ascend And burst, And gushing oceans every barrier rend, Hark! even the forest beasts howl forth their prayer! When the swoll'n clouds unto the mountains bend Raph. Farewell, thou earth! Ye wretched sons of clay, I cannot, must not, aid you. 'Tis decreed! [Exit Raphael. Faph. Some clouds sweep on as vultures for While others, fix'd as rocks, await the word Nor spangled stars be glorious: Death hath risen prison, Be He who made thee and thy sire! Why should our hymn be raised, our knees be bent Since we must fall the same? If He hath made earth, let it be His shame To make a world for torture.-Lo! they come, The loathsome waters, in their rage! And with their roar make wholesome Nature dumb! Ere Eve gave Adam knowledge for her dower, So massy, vast, yet green in their old age, THE ILLUSTRIOUS GOETHE, BY ONE OF HIS HUMBLEST ADMIRERS, THIS TRAGEDY IS DEDICATED. PREFACE. THE following drama is taken entirely from the 'German's Tale, Kruitzner,' published many years ago in 'Lee's Canterbury Tales,' written (I believe) by two sisters, of whom one furnished only this story and another, both of which are considered superior to the remainder of the collection, I have adopted the characters, plan, and even the language of many parts of this story. Some of the characters are modified or altered, a few of the names changed, and one character (Ida of Stralenheim) added by myself; but in the rest the original is chiefly followed. When I was young (about fourteen, I think) I first read this tale, which made a deep impression upon me; and may, indeed, be said to contain the germ of much that I have since written. I am not sure that it ever was very popular; or, at any rate, its popularity has since been eclipsed by that of other great writers in the same department. But I have generally found that those who had read it, agreed with me in their estimate of the singular power of mind and conception which it developes. I should also add conception, rather than execution; for the story might, perhaps, have been developed with greater advantage. Amongst those whose opinions agreed with mine upon this story, I could mention some very high names: but it is not necessary, nor indeed of any use; for every one inust judge according to his own feelings. I merely refer the reader to the original story, that he may see to what extent I have borrowed from it; and am not unwilling that he should find much greater pleasure in perusing it than the drama which is founded upon its contents. I had begun a drama upon this tale so far back as 1815 (the first I ever attempted, except one at thirteen years old, called 'Ulric and Ilvina,' which I had sense enough to burn), and had nearly completed an act, when I was interrupted by circumstances. This is somewhere amongst my papers in England; but as it has not been found, I have re-written the first, and added the subsequent acts. The whole is neither intended, nor in any shape adapted, for the stage. SCENE.-Partly on the frontier of Silesia, and partly in Siegendorf Castle, near Prague. Yes, but not to thyself: thy pace is hurried, Wer. 'Tis chill; the tapestry lets through Wer. [smiling.] Why wouldst thou have it so? Have it a healthful current. I would The storm of the night To see thee well is much- But think [love! Where hast thou seen such? And that's not the worst: who cares A beggar, and should know the thing thou talk'st of. Fos. Wer. True-to a peasant Should the nobly born Be thankless for that refuge which their habits Needful than to the peasant, when the ebb Well? Wer. Something beyond our outward sufferings (though These were enough to gnaw into our souls) Fos. [abruptly.] My son-our son-our Ulric, Been clasp'd again in these long-empty arms, And all a mother's hunger satisfied. Twelve years! he was but eight then :-beautiful Wer. But I was born to wealth, and rank, and power; Enjoy'd them, loved them, and, alas! abused them, The fluttering bird, hath ere this time outstept me, Wer. We should have done, but for this fatal More fatal than a mortal malady, [sickness; Because it takes not life, but life's sole solace: Even now I feel my spirit girt about By the snares of this avaricious fiend :- Jos. He does not know thy person; and his spies, Who so long watch'd thee, have been left at Hamburgh. Our unexpected journey, and this change Of name, leaves all discovery far behind: Even to our very hopes.-Ha! ha! Alas! That bitter laugh! You Fos. Wer. An exile's daughter with an outcast son, Fos. Your father did not think so, though 'twas noble; But had my birth been all my claim to match Has done in our behalf,-nothing! All which it How,-nothing Fos. Or worse; for it has been a canker in Or, if that seem too humble, tried by commerce, Wer. [ironically.] And been an Hanseatic burgher? Excellent! Fos. Whate'er thou might'st have been, to me thou art What no state high or low can ever change, My heart's first choice;-which chose thee, knowing neither [sorrows: Thy birth, thy hopes, thy pride; nought, save thy While they last, let me comfort or divide them: When they end, let mine end with them, or thée! Wer. My better angel! Such I have ever found thee; This rashness, or this weakness of my temper, Ne'er raised a thought to injure thee or thine. Thou didst not mar my fortunes: my own nature In youth was such as to unmake an empire, Mad such been my inheritance; but now, Chasten'd, subdued, out-worn, and taught to know Myself,-to lose this for our son and thee! Trust me, when, in my two-and-twentieth spring, My father barr'd me from my fathers' house, The last sole scion of a thousand sires (For I was then the last), it hurt me less Than to behold my boy and my boy's mother Excluded in their innocence from what My faults deserved exclusion; although then My passions were all living serpents, and Twined like the Gorgon's round me. Werner puts his hand into his bosom, as if Is drown'd below the ford, with five post-horses, A monkey, and a mastiff, and a valet. Yes, of the monkey, It may turn out with the live or dead body. Fos. And where will you receive him? here, I If we can be of service-say the word. [hope, Iden. Here? no; but in the prince's own apartment, As fits a noble guest :-'tis damp, no doubt, Poor gentleman, |