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Yet let me not retain thee-fly!

My pangs can be but brief; but thine would be
Eternal, if repulsed from heaven for me.

Too much already hast thou deign'd
To one of Adam's race!

Our doom is sorrow: not to us alone,
But to the spirits who have not disdain'd
To love us, cometh anguish with disgrace.
The first who taught us knowledge hath been
From his once archangelic throne

Into some unknown world:

And thou, Azaziel!

No

Thou shalt not suffer woe

For me. Away! nor weep!

Thou canst not weep; but yet

[hurl'd

May'st suffer more, not weeping; then forget Her, whom the surges of the all-strangling deep Can bring no pang like this. Fly! fly! Being gone, 'twill be less difficult to die. Japh. Oh, say not so!

Father! and thou, archangel, thou!
Surely celestial mercy lurks below

That pure severe serenity of brow;
Let them not meet this sea without a shore,
Save in our ark, or let me be no more!
Noah. Peace, child of passion, peace!
If not within thy heart, yet with thy tongue
Do God no wrong!

Live as he wills it-die, when he ordains,
A righteous death, unlike the seed of Cain's.
Cease, or be sorrowful in silence; cease
To weary Heaven's ear with thy selfish plaint.
Wouldst thou have God commit a sin for thee?
Such would it be

To alter his intent

Be a man!

For a mere mortal sorrow.
And bear what Adam's race must bear, and can.
Japh. Ay, father! but when they are gone,
And we are all alone,

Floating upon the azure desert, and
The depth beneath us hides our own dear land,
And dearer, silent friends and brethren all
Buried in its immeasurable breast, [mand?
Who, who, our tears, our shrieks, shall then com-
Can we in desolation's peace have rest?

Oh God! be thou a God, and spare

Yet while 'tis time!

Renew not Adam's fall: Mankind were then but twain,

But they are numerous now as are the waves And the tremendous rain, [graves, Whose drops shall be less thick than would their Were graves permitted to the seed of Cain. Noah. Silence, vain boy! each word of thine's a crime,

Angel! forgive this stripling's fond despair.

Raph. Seraphs! these mortals speak in pas

Ye!

Who are, or should be, passionless and pure, May now return with me.

Sam.

It may not be : We have chosen, and will endure.

Raph. Say'st thou ?

Aza. He hath said it, and I say, Amen! Again!

Raph.

Then from this hour,

Shorn as ye are of all celestial power, And aliens from your God,

Farewell!

Faph. Alas! where shall they dwell? Hark, hark! Deep sounds, and deeper still, Are howling from the mountain's bosom : There's not a breath of wind upon the hill, Yet quivers every leaf, and drops each blossom: Earth groans as if beneath a heavy load.

Noah. Hark, hark! the sea-birds cry! In clouds they overspread the lurid sky, And hover round the mountain, where before Never a white wing, wetted by the wave, Yet dared to soar,

Even when the waters wax'd too fierce to brave. Soon it shall be their only shore,

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How darest thou look on that prophetic sky, And seek to save what all things now condemn, In overwhelming unison

With just Jehovah's wrath! [path? Japh. Can rage and justice join in the same Noah. Blasphemer ! darest thou murmur even now!

Raph. Patriarch, be still a father! smooth thy Thy son, despite his folly, shall not sink: [brow: He knows not what he says, yet shall not drink With sobs the salt foam of the swelling waters: But he, when passion passeth, good as thou, Nor perish like heaven's children with man's daughters.

Aho. The tempest cometh; heaven and earth For the annihilation of all life. [unite

Unequal is the strife

Between our strength and the Eternal Might!
Sam. But ours is with thee: we will bear ye
To some untroubled star,
[far
Where thou and Anah shall partake our lot:
And if thou dost not weep for thy lost earth,
Our forfeit heaven shall also be forgot. [birth,
Anah. Oh! my dear father's tents, my place of
And mountains, land, and woods! when ye are
Who shall dry up my tears?
[not,

Aza.
Thy spirit-lord.
Fear not; though we are shut from heaven,
Yet much is ours, whence we cannot be driven.
Raph. Rebel! thy words are wicked, as thy

deeds

Shall henceforth be but weak: the flaming sword,
Which chased the first-born out of Paradise,
Still flashes in the angelic hands. [death,
Aza. It cannot slay us: threaten dust with
And talk of weapons unto that which bleeds.
What are thy swords in our immortal eyes?
Raph. The moment cometh to approve thy
And learn at length
(strength;
How vain to war with what thy God commands:
Thy former force was in thy faith.

Enter Mortals, flying for refuge.
Chorus of Mortals.

[God!

The heavens and earth are mingling-God! oh
What have we done? Yet spare!
Hark! even the forest beasts howl forth their
prayer!

The dragon crawls from out his den,
To herd, in terror, innocent with men ;
And the birds scream their agony through air.
Yet, yet, Jehovah! yet withdraw thy rod
Of wrath, and pity thine own world's despair!
Hear not man only but all nature plead !
Raph. Farewell, thou earth! ye wretched
sons of clay,

I cannot, must not, aid you.

'Tis decreed! [Exit RAPHAEL. Japh. Some clouds sweep on as vultures for

their prey,

While others, fix'd as rocks, await the word
At which their wrathful vials shall be pour'd.
No azure more shall robe the firmament,
Nor spangled stars be glorious: Death hath

risen :

In the sun's place a pale and ghastly glare Hath wound itself around the dying air.

[prison,

Aza. Come, Anah ! quit this chaos-founded To which the elements again repair, To turn it into what it was: beneath The shelter of these wings thou shalt be safe, As was the eagle's nestling once within Its mother's. Let the coming chaos chafe With all its elements! Heed not their din ! A brighter world than this, where thou shalt Ethereal life, will we explore: These darken'd clouds are not the only skies. [AZAZIEL and SAMIASA fly off and disappear with ANAH and AHOLIBAMAH.

[breathe

Japh. They are gone! They have disappear'd amidst the roar

Of the forsaken world; and never more,
Whether they live, or die with all earth's life,
Now near its last, can aught restore
Anah unto these eyes.

Chorus of Mortals.

Oh son of Noah! mercy on thy kind!
What! wilt thou leave us all-all--all behind?
While safe amidst the elemental strife,
Thou sitt'st within thy guarded ark?

A Mother offering her infant to JAPHET
Oh let this child embark!
brought him forth in woe,
But thought it joy

To see him to my bosom clinging so.
Why was he born?
What hath he done-
My unwean'd son-

To move Jehovah's wrath or scorn?
What is there in this milk of mine, that death
Should stir all heaven and earth up to destroy
My boy,

And roll the waters o'er his placid breath?
Save hitn, thou seed of Seth!
Or cursed be with him who made
Thee and thy race, for which we are betray d
Japh. Peace! 'tis no hour for curses, but for
prayer!

Chorus of Mortals.

For prayer !!!

And where Shall prayer ascend,

When the swoln clouds unto the mountains bend
And burst,

And gushing oceans every barrier rend,
Until the very deserts know no thirst?
Accursed

Be he who made thee and thy sire!
We deem our curses vain; we must expire;
But as we know the worst,

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Why should our hymn be raised, our knees be
Before the implacable Omnipotent,
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! damo And with their roar make wholesome naIET The forests' trees (coeval with the hour When Paradise upsprung,

Ere Eve gave Adam knowledge for her down Or Adam his first hymn of slavery sung), So massy, vast, yet green in their old age Are overtopp'd,

Their summer blossoms by the surges lopp'd,
Which rise, and rise, and rise.

Vainly we look up to the lowering skies-
They meet the seas,

And shut out God from our beseeching eyes.
Fly, son of Noah, fly ! and take thine east,
In thine allotted ocean-tent;

And view, all floating o'er the element,

Th. corpses of the world of thy young days:
Then to Jehovah raise

Thy song of praise !

A Mortal. Blessed are the dead

Who die in the Lord!.

And though the waters be o'er earth outspread,
Yet, as his word,

Be the decree adored!

He gave merlife--he taketh but

The breath which is his own:

Ard though these eyes should be for ever shut,
Nor longer this weak voice before his throne
Be heard in supplicating tone,

Still blessed be the Lord,
For what is past,
For that which is:
For all are his,

From first to last

Tme-space-eternity-life-death

The vast known and immeasurable unknown.

He made, and can unmake;

And shall, for a little gasp of breath,

Blaspheme and groan?

No, let me die, as I have lived, in faith, Nor quiver, though the universe may quake!

Chorus of Mortals.

Where shall we fly?

Not to the mountains high;

now their torrents rush, with double roar,

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WERNER; OR, THE INHERITANCE:

A TRAGEDY.

1822.

ΤΟ

THE ILLUSTRIOUS GOETHE,

BY ONE OF HIS HUMBLEST ADMIRERS, THIS TRAGEDY IS DEDICATED.

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PREFACE.

THE following drama is taken entirely from the 'German's Tale, Kruitzner,' published many ars ago in Lee's Canterbury Tales, written (I believe) by two sisters, of whom one furnished this story and another, both of which are considered superior to the remainder of the collecd. 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 de of Stralenheim) added by myself; but in the rest the original is chiefly followed. When I 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 c. sure that it ever was very popular; or, at any rate, its popularity has since been eclipsed by tha of other great writers in the same department. But I have generally found that those who .. read it, agreed with me in their estimate of the singular power of mind and conception which i 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 min upon this story, I could mention some very high names: but it is not necessary, nor indeed of any use; for every one must judge according to his own feelings. I merely refer the reader : the original story, that he may see to what extent I have borrowed from it; and am not unwil that he should find much greater pleasure in perusing it than the drama which is founded up 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 hat nearly completed an act, when I was interrupted by circumstances. This is somewhere among " 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.

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SCENE. Partly on the frontier of Silesia, and partly in Siegendorf Castle, near Prague. TIME.-The Close of the Thirty Years' War.

ACT I.

SCENE I.-The Hall of a decayed Palace near a small Town on the Northern Frontier of Silesia-the Night tempestuous.

I am calm.

To me

WERNER and JOSEPHINE, his Wife.
Jos. My love, be calmer!
Wer.
Jos.
Yes, but not to thyself: thy pace is hurried,
And no one walks a chamber like to ours
With steps like thine when his heart is at rest.
Were it a garden, I should deem thee happy,
And stepping with the bee from flower to flower;
But here!

Wer. "Tis chill; the tapestry lets through
The wind to which it waves: my blood is frozen.
Jos. Ah, no!

[so?
Wer. [smiling]. Why wouldst thou have it
Jos.
I would

Have it a healthful current.

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Until 'tis spilt or check'd-how soon, I care not. Which hath no chamber for them save benran Jos. And am I nothing in thy heart?

Wer.

Her surface.

All-all.

Wer. And that's not the worst: who can

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Left the path open, yet not without snares.
This cold and creeping kinsman, who so long
Kept his eye on me, as the snake upon [me,
The fluttering bird, hath ere this time outstept
Become the master of my rights, and lord
Of that which lifts him up to princes in
Dominion and domain.
Jos.

Who knows? our son

S,

The dull and dropping rain saps in their bones
The creeping marrow. I have been a soldier,
A hunter, and a traveller, and am
[of.
A beggar, and should know the thing thou talk'st
Jes. And art thou not now shelter'd from them
Wer. Yes. And from these alone. [all? May have return'd back to his grandsire, and
Jos.
And that is something. Even now uphold thy rights for thee?
Wer. True-to a peasant.
Wer.
'Tis hopeless.
Jos.
Should the nobly born Since his strange disappearance from my father
Be thankless for that refuge which their habits Entailing, as it were, my sins upon
Of early delicacy render more
Himself, no tidings have reveal'd his course.
Needful than to the peasant, when the ebb I parted with him to his grandsire, on
Of fortune leaves them on the shoals of life? The promise that his anger would stop short
Wer. It is not that, thou know'st it is not: we Of the third generation; but Heaven seems
Have borne all this, I'll not say patiently, To claim her stern prerogative, and visit
Except in thee-but we have borne it.
Upon my boy his father's faults and follies.
Jos.
Jos. I must hope better still,—at least we
have yet

Well?

Wer. Something beyond our outward suffer-
ings (though

These were enough to gnaw into our souls)
Hath stung me oft, and, more than ever, now.
When, but for this untoward sickness, which
Seized me upon this desolate frontier, and
Hath wasted, not alone my strength, but means,
And leaves us-no! this is beyond me!-but
For this I had been happy-thou been happy-
The splendour of my rank sustain'd-my name-
My father's name-been still upheld; and, more
Than those-

Jos. [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
He was, and beautiful he must be now,
My Ulric! my adored!

Wer.
I have been full oft
The chase of Fortune; now she hath o'ertaken
My spirit where it cannot turn at bay,-
Sick, poor, and lonely.
Jos.
Lonely! my dear husband?
Wer. Or worse-involving all I love, in this
Far worse than solitude. Alone, I had died,
And all been over in a nameless grave. [take
Jos. And I had not outlived thee; but pray
Comfort! We have struggled long; and they
who strive

With Fortune win or weary her at last,
So that they find the goal or cease to feel
Further. Take comfort,-we shall find our boy.
Wer. We were in sight of him, of everything
Which could bring compensation for past
And to be baffled thus!
[sorrow

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Baffled the long pursuit of Stralenheim.

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 :-
How do I know he hath not track'd us here?
Jos. He does not know thy person; and his
spies,
[Hamburgh.
Who so long watch'd thee, have been left at
Our unexpected journey, and this change
Of name, leaves all discovery far behind :
None hold us here for aught save what we seem.
Wer. Save what we seem! save what we are
-sick beggars,

Even to our very hopes.-Ha! ha!
Jos.
That bitter laugh!
Wer.

Alas!

Who would read in this form
The high soul of the son of a long line?
Who, in this garb, the heir of princely lands?
Who, in this sunken, sickly eye, the pride
Of rank and ancestry? In this worn cheek
And famine-hollow'd brow, the lord of halls
Which daily feast a thousand vassals?
Jos.

You

Ponder'd not thus upon these worldly things, My Werner! when you deign'd to choose for .bride

The foreign daughter of a wandering exile.

Wer. An exile's daughter with an outcast son,
Were a fit marriage: but I still had hopes
To lift thee to the state we both were born for.
Your father's house was noble, though decay'd;
And worthy by its birth to match with ours.

Jos. Your father did not think so, though
'twas noble ;

But had my birth been all my claim to match
With thee, I should have deem'd it what it is.
Wer. And what is that in thine eyes?
Jos.

Has done in our behalf,-nothing!
Wer.

All which it

How,-nothing?

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