Yet let me not retain thee-fly! My pangs can be but brief; but thine would be Too much already hast thou deign'd Our doom is sorrow: not to us alone, 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! That pure severe serenity of brow; Live as he wills it-die, when he ordains, To alter his intent Be a man! For a mere mortal sorrow. Floating upon the azure desert, and 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, 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! Aza. deeds Shall henceforth be but weak: the flaming sword, Enter Mortals, flying for refuge. [God! The heavens and earth are mingling-God! oh The dragon crawls from out his den, 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 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, Chorus of Mortals. Oh son of Noah! mercy on thy kind! A Mother offering her infant to JAPHET To see him to my bosom clinging so. To move Jehovah's wrath or scorn? And roll the waters o'er his placid breath? Chorus of Mortals. For prayer !!! And where Shall prayer ascend, When the swoln clouds unto the mountains bend And gushing oceans every barrier rend, Be he who made thee and thy sire! Why should our hymn be raised, our knees be 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, Vainly we look up to the lowering skies- And shut out God from our beseeching eyes. And view, all floating o'er the element, Th. corpses of the world of thy young days: Thy song of praise ! A Mortal. Blessed are the dead Who die in the Lord!. And though the waters be o'er earth outspread, 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, Still blessed be the Lord, 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, WERNER; OR, THE INHERITANCE: A TRAGEDY. 1822. ΤΟ 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 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. 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. Wer. "Tis chill; the tapestry lets through [so? Have it a healthful current. 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 Left the path open, yet not without snares. Who knows? our son S, The dull and dropping rain saps in their bones Well? Wer. Something beyond our outward suffer- These were enough to gnaw into our souls) Jos. [abruptly]. My son-our son-our Ulric, Twelve years! he was but eight then :-beautiful Wer. With Fortune win or weary her at last, Baffled the long pursuit of Stralenheim. Wer. We should have done, but for this fatal Even to our very hopes.-Ha! ha! Alas! Who would read in this form 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, Jos. Your father did not think so, though But had my birth been all my claim to match Has done in our behalf,-nothing! All which it How,-nothing? |