The German Classics of the Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries - LightNovelsOnl.com
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I thought that _you_ were bringing it.--What of it?
HOHENZOLL. I know of nothing.
THE PRINCE. Well, you heard: What of it?
He'll send some other one to let me know.
[_He turns and brings chairs._]
Sit down. Now come and tell me all the news.
Has he returned, the Elector, from Berlin?
HOHENZOLL. Yes. Yester eve.
THE PRINCE. And did they celebrate The victory as planned?--a.s.suredly!
And he was at the church himself, the Elector?
HOHENZOLL. With the Electress and with Natalie.
The church was wonderfully bright with lights; Upon the palace-square artillery Through the _Te Deum_ spoke with solemn splendor.
The Swedish flags and standards over us Swung from the church's columns, trophy-wise, And, on the sovereign's express command, Your name was spoken from the chancel high, Your name was spoken, as the victor's name.
THE PRINCE. I heard that.--Well, what other news? What's yours?
Your face, my friend, is scarcely frolicsome.
HOHENZOLL. Have you seen anybody?
THE PRINCE. Golz, just now, I' the Castle where, you know, I had my trial.
[_Pause._]
HOHENZOLLERN (_regarding him doubtfully_).
What do you think of your position, Arthur, Since it has suffered such a curious change?
THE PRINCE. What you and Golz and even the judges think-- The Elector has fulfilled what duty asked, And now he'll do as well the heart's behest.
Thus he'll address me, gravely: You have erred (Put in a word perhaps of "death" and "fortress"), But I grant you your liberty again-- And round the sword that won his victory Perhaps there'll even twine some mark of grace; If not that, good; I did not merit that.
HOHENZOLL. Oh, Arthur! [_He pauses._]
THE PRINCE. Well?
HOHENZOLLERN. Are you so very sure?
THE PRINCE. So I have laid it out. I know he loves me, He loves me like a son; since early childhood A thousand signs have amply proven that.
What doubt is in your heart that stirs you so?
Has he not ever seemed to take more joy Than I myself to see my young fame grow?
All that I am, am I not all through him?
And he should now unkindly tread in dust The plant himself has nurtured, just because Too swiftly opulent it flowered forth?
I'll not believe his worst foe could think that-- And far less you who know and cherish him.
HOHENZOLLERN (_significantly_).
Arthur, you've stood your trial in court-martial, And you believe that still?
THE PRINCE. _Because_ of it!
No one, by heaven alive, would go so far Who did not have a pardon up his sleeve!
Even there, before the judgment bar, it was-- Even there it was, my confidence returned.
Come, was it such a capital offense Two little seconds ere the order said To have laid low the stoutness of the Swede?
What other felony is on my conscience?
And could he summon me, unfeelingly, Before this board of owl-like judges, chanting Their litanies of bullets and the grave, Did he not purpose with a sovereign word To step into their circle like a G.o.d?
No, he is gathering this night of cloud About my head, my friend, that he may dawn Athwart the gloomy twilight like the sun!
And, faith, this pleasure I begrudge him not!
HOHENZOLL. And yet, they say, the court has spoken judgment.
THE PRINCE. I heard so: death.
HOHENZOLLERN (_amazed_). You know it then--so soon?
THE PRINCE. Golz, who was present when they brought the verdict Gave me report of how the judgment fell.
HOHENZOLL. My G.o.d, man! And it stirred you not at all?
THE PRINCE. Me? Why, not in the least!
HOHENZOLLERN. You maniac!
On what then do you prop your confidence?
THE PRINCE. On what I feel of him! [_He rises._] No more, I beg.
Why should I fret with insubstantial doubts?
[_He bethinks himself and sits down again. Pause._]
The court was forced to make its verdict death; For thus the statute reads by which they judge.
But ere he let that sentence be fulfilled-- Ere, at a kerchief's fall, he yields this heart That loves him truly, to the muskets' fire, Ere that, I say, he'll lay his own breast bare And spill his own blood, drop by drop, in dust.
HOHENZOLL. But, Arthur, I a.s.sure you--
THE PRINCE (_petulantly_). Oh, my dear!
HOHENZOLL. The Marshal--
THE PRINCE (_still petulantly_). Come, enough!
HOHENZOLLERN. Hear two words more!
If those make no impression, I'll be mute.
THE PRINCE (_turning to him again_).
I told you, I know all. Well, now, what is it?
HOHENZOLL. Most strange it is, a moment since, the Marshal Delivered him the warrant for your death.
It leaves him liberty to pardon you, But he, instead, has given the command That it be brought him for his signature.
