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 Xo. LXYIII 
 FRENCH'S STANDARD DRAMA. 
 
 WEENER. 
 
 ^ (Tragebn, 
 
 IX FIVE ACTS 
 
 BY LORD BYROX. 
 
 fVJTH THE STAGE BUSLXESS, CAST OF CHARACTERS, 
 COSTUMES, RELATIVE POSITIOXS, E'IC. 
 
 XEW-YOIIK : 
 SAMUEL F TvE N C H, 
 
 12a AASSAi;-SiUEE'r. 
 
 ^^^*^^' 12^ CENTS.
 
 UNIVEHSITY OF CALIFORNl 
 SANTA BARBARA 
 
 EDITORIAL INTRODUCTION. 
 
 ■Weenee is one of that series of plays which Byron wrote in proud citfl- 
 ance of the conventional rules of modern dramatic composition, and with 
 an avowed scorn of Managers and Players, and yet it is now incorporated 
 into the Acting Drama, where it will long continue to be estimated as a 
 classical and standard production. 
 
 The London Stage was indebted to the fine taste and consummate pow- 
 ers of Mr.Macready for the first representation of Werner, although it was 
 first acted in this country on the occasion of Mr. Barry's Benefit at the 
 Park Theatre, iu the season of 1826, who sustained the part of the hero. 
 
 The unprecedented success which attended the production of Werner by 
 Mr. Jtacready, mainly attributed, however, to his exquisitely beautiful per- 
 sonation of the leading character, has induced several actors to assume 
 the part, with modified degrees of success, and the play has thus become 
 a stock piece on the Stage, and we have therefore been induced to give it 
 a place in our collection of Standard Dramatic productions. 
 
 In this country Mr. James Wallack, Jr., has acquired a well merited 
 ceiebrity by his very able personification of the part. 
 
 We have been favored with a copy, which we have reason to believe is a 
 faithful transcript of the usually acted version. The reader, familiar only 
 with BjTon's original, will find numerous alterations and curtailments in 
 Ihe text we publish. The spirit of the original is, however, admirably pre- 
 served, and the whole adaptation evinces the taste of a consummate judge 
 of dramatic effect. 
 
 It is to be presumed that the Public is indebted to Mr. Macready for this 
 valuable acquisition to the Acting Drama. As we have not obtained our 
 copy through the medium of this distinguished tragedian, we cannot vouch 
 for its being the identical adaptation he uses ; although we are warranted 
 in believing that it differs very slightly from the version played by Mr. 
 JIacready.
 
 IT EDITOniAL IKTRODUCTION. 
 
 Of the merits of tlie play, little need be said — It is undoubtedly the best 
 of Byion's dramatic efforts. The poetry is nervous, finished, and lofty. It 
 abounds in those pictures of gloomy passion which Byron seen cd to de- 
 light in portraj'ing, and the characters are but so many illustrations of his 
 power of diving into the depths of the human heart, for the purpose of ex- 
 posing the latent evils, sufferings, and crimes, which are there engeii- 
 dered. 
 
 Lord Byron borrowed the entire plot of Werner from Miss Lee's " Can- 
 terbury Tales," and the noble author has not disdained to avail himself of 
 materials for his story alone, but in several instances, he has even copied 
 Miss Lee's thoughts and language, which he has simply ad.apted and im 
 proved to suit his purpose. The celebrated speech of IVcrncr to Ulric, in 
 the third act, after committing the robbery, which is justly considered one 
 of the most powerfully wrong passages in the whole range of the modern 
 drama, is a specimen of the noble anthor's talent for adaption, and is in- 
 teresting as a remarkable instanc« of literary plagiarism. The passage, as 
 it stands in the play, read thus : 
 
 " Werkeb. Ulric, before you dare despise yoar father. 
 Learn to divine and judge his actions. Young, 
 Rash, new to life, and reared in luxury's lap, 
 I sit for you to measure passion's force 
 And misery's temptation ! Wait — not long, 
 It cometh like the night, and quickly— Wait! 
 Wait till, like me. your hopes are blighted-till 
 Sorrow and shame are handmaids of your cabin ; 
 Famine and poverty your guests at table ,• 
 Despair your bedfellow— then rise, but not 
 From sleep, and judge ! Should that day e'er arrive, 
 Should you see then the serpent, who hath coiled 
 Himself around all that is dear and noble 
 Of you and yours, lie slumbering in your path, 
 With but his folds between your steps and happiness ; 
 When he, who lives but to tear from you name, 
 Lands, life itself, lies at your mercy, with 
 Chance your conductor ; midnight for your mantle 1 
 The bare knife in your hand, and earth asleep, 
 Even to your deadliest foe ; and he, as 'twere, 
 Inviting death by looking like it. while 
 His death alone can save you ; Thank your God ! 
 If then, like me, content with petty plunder, 
 You turn aside— I did so.'" 
 
 In Miss Lee's " German's Tale," Si;gcndnrf s&ys\o his son :— 
 
 " Conrad, before you thus presume to chastise me with your ej'e. lenra 
 to understand my actions!— Young and inexperienced in the world — re- 
 posing hitherto in the bosom of indulgence and luxury, is it for i/im to 
 judge of the force of the passions, or the temptations of misery ?— Wait 
 till, like me, you have blighted your fairest hopes— have endured humili-
 
 ESITOBAL INTEOEUCTIOlf. ▼ 
 
 alion and sorrow, poverty and famine— before you pretend to jndj^e of 
 their efln-ct on you ! Should that niiseral)le diiy ever arrive— slinnld you 
 see tlie being at your merij'. who stands between yon and ever^ thin;,' that 
 is dear or uotile in life ! — who is ready to tear troin yon your name — youi 
 inheritance— your very life itself— cons^-ratulate your own iieart, if like me 
 you are content with petty plunder, and are not tempted to exterminate a 
 serpent, who now lives, perhaps, to sting us all !" 
 
 But while we notice the aids which Byron has availed liimself of in the 
 production of this splendid drama, we arc not insensible to the numerous 
 and highly wrought passages of original and genuine poetry with which it 
 is enriched, Even his adaptions are improvements on the original, and 
 like Shakspeare, although he borrows the thoughts of others, he yet in- 
 vests his original with added graces, by bis supereminent genius and 
 transcendent powers of versitication. 
 
 H.
 
 CAST OF CHARACTERS. 
 
 Oiig^.nal Cm-ent Garden. Arrh st . , Phila. Broadway. 
 
 ^Verne^ Mr M^icruady. Mr. Macieady Mr. J. Wallack, jr. 
 
 Ulric " Wallaek. " Conner. " Fleniming. 
 
 Siralenheim " H. Wallack. " Altemus. " Fredericks. 
 
 Idensleiu " W. Uennet. " Burton. " Yaclie. 
 
 Gab T " Cooper. " Kyder. " Stark. 
 
 Tntz " Youuge. " T.Johnston. " Evrard. 
 
 lienrick " Yarnold. " TiUhill. " Chapman. 
 
 Erie "Henry- " Bowers. " Bernard. 
 
 Arnheim " H<iwell. " Wright. " Moore. 
 
 Meister " T Matthews. " Walters. " Lewis. 
 
 Rodolph "Baker. " Russell. " H.Hunt. 
 
 Ludwig " I'aulo. " Hickman. " Merril. 
 
 Herman " " Hawke. 
 
 Otto " " J. Hawke. 
 
 Joi<ei)hiiie Mrs. Faucit. Miss C. Cushman. Mrs. J. Wallack. 
 
 Ida btralenheira. . . Miss Mordaunt. Mrs. Burke. " Sergeant. 
 
 Servants, fyc. 
 
 COSTUMES. 
 
 WEEXER First Dre^s : — Dark grey tunic, trimmed with fur, hanging 
 
 sleeves, dark cap white tights, kcccticl dress : — Blue velvet shirt, trim- 
 med witli silver and red jjufia. Third dress : — Blue velvet shirt and cloak, 
 white cap and feathers. 
 ULRIC. — Same as Werner. 
 GABOR.— F/rs^rf/f.'!,':— Dark brown velvet shirt, trimmed with fur, dark 
 
 cap to match, red tights, and gauntlets. Second dress: — Coarse woolen 
 
 shirt aiid brown cloak. 
 STRALENHEIM.— Green velvet shirt, trimmed with dark fur and gold 
 
 white tights, brown cap tiimmed wiih tur. 
 IDENSTEIN.— Slate coloured tab jacket and trunks, trimmed with black 
 
 velvet cloak, and red tights. 
 EODOLPH.— Long white shirt with red puffs, trimmed with silver, white 
 
 tights. 
 FRITZ.— Slate-coloured tunic, trimmed with black, black cap. 
 HENRICK.— BuS Venetian tunic, trimmed with black. 
 ERiC— Dark brown shirt, trimmed with black, black cap. 
 ARXHEIM.— Black shape, trimmed with yellow. 
 MEISI'ER.— Dark brown shape, with trunks, trimmed with black velvet, 
 
 black cap. 
 LUDWIG.— Green tab tunic, with yellow trimmings. 
 JOSEPH I.VE.—FiV.';< dress: — Dark dress, trimmed with fur. Second dress ; 
 —Rich satin dress with train. 
 IDA— Rich dress, with train. 
 
 EXITS AND EX M RANGES. 
 
 R. means Right ; L. Left ; R. D. Right Boor ; L. D. I^ft Door ; 
 
 8. E. Second Entrance ; \j. E. Upper Entrance ; 51. D. Middle Door ; 
 
 F. the Flat ; D. F. Door in Flat. 
 
 RELTFVE POSITIONS. 
 
 R., means Right ; L., Left ; C, Centre ; R. C, Right of Centre ; L. C, 
 Left of 'Centre.
 
 W E E jS^ E E . 
 
 ACT I . 
 
 Scene I. — The Hall of a decayed Palace near a .finall Town 
 en the Frontier of Silesia. — Large Foldivg-Dcors in F,, 
 large iron holt upon them, hadced by Gothic )Vi7idoic, which 
 is transparent — behind a piece of tattered Tapestry, in R. F.^ 
 is a practicable Panel in the Wainscot. — JJoor, l. s. e. — 
 Door vp three steps, b. s. e. A tempestuous Night. 
 
 Werner and Josephine, his Wife, discovered. 
 
 Jos. (Seated l. of table.) My love, be calmer I 
 
 Wer. (Pacing stage.) I am calm. 
 
 Jos. To me — 
 Yes, but not to thyself : [Storm. 
 
 Wer. 'I'is chill ; the tapestry lets through 
 The wind to which it waves : my blood is frozen. 
 
 Jos. Ah, no ! 
 I would 
 Have it a healthful current. 
 
 Wer. Let it flow 
 XJutil 'tis spilt or checked — how soon, I care not 
 
 Jos. And canst thou wish for that which must break my 
 heart ? 
 
 Wer. { Approaching her sloirlv.) The storm of the m'ght, 
 Perhaps, nffects me ; I'm a thing of feelings, 
 And have of late been sickly, as alas I 
 Thou know'st by sufferings more than mine, my love ! 
 In watching me. 
 
 Jos. To see thee well is much — 
 To see thee happy —
 
 8 WERNER. [Act I. 
 
 Wer. Where hast thou seen me such ? 
 Let me be wretched with the rest ! [Storm. 
 
 Something beyond our outward sufT'Tings ^though 
 These were enough to gnaw into our outward soulsj 
 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 — Ikou been happy — 
 The splendor of my rank sustained — my name — 
 My father's name — been still upheld ; and, more 
 Than those — 
 
 Jos. (Abrvptly.) My son — our son — our Ulric, 
 Been clasped again in these long-empty arms, 
 And all a mother's hunger satisfied. 
 Twelve years ! he was but eight then : — 
 My Ulric ! my adored ! [Rises and goes to Werner. 
 
 Take comfort, — we shall find our boy. [ Storm ceases. 
 
 Wer. We were in sight of him, of everything 
 Which could bring compensation for past sorrow — 
 And to be baffled thus ! [Rises and paces Stage to B. 
 
 Jos. {c.) We are not baffled. 
 
 Wer. Are we not pennyless ? 
 
 Jos. We ne'er were wealthy. 
 
 Wer. But I was born to wealth, and rank, and power ; 
 And forfeited them by my father's wrath, 
 In my o'erfervent youth ; his death had now 
 Left the path open, but 
 This cold and creeping kinsman, the Stralenheim, who so 
 
 long 
 Kept his eye on me, hath ere this time outstepped me, 
 Become the master of my rights, and lord 
 Of that which lifts him up to princes in 
 Dominion and domain. [Crosses, h^ 
 
 Jos. Who knows ? our son 
 May have returned back to his grandsire, and 
 Even now upliold thy rights for thee ? 
 
 Wer. 'Tis hopeless. 
 Since his strange disappearance from my father's, 
 Entailing, as it were, my sins upon 
 Himself, no tidings have revealed his course.
 
 Scene I.] werner. 9 
 
 I parted with him to his grandsire, on 
 The promise that his anger wouhJ stop short 
 Of the third generation : but Heaven seems 
 To claim her stern prerogative, and visit 
 Upon my boy his father's faults and follies. 
 
 Jos. 1 mr.st hope better still, — at least we have yet 
 Baffled the long pursuit of Stralenheira. 
 
 iVer. We should have done, but for this fatal sickness, 
 
 Crosses, jr. 
 "What chance, what hope, were left us, if again 
 "Within the snares of this avaricious fiend? — 
 Aud how do I know he hath not tracked us here ? 
 
 Jos. He does not know thy person ; and his spies. 
 Who so long watched thee, have been left at Hamburgh, 
 Our unexpected journey, and this change 
 Of name, leaves ail discovery far behind : 
 !None hold us here for aught save what we seem ! 
 
 Wer. Save what we seem 1 save what we are — sick 
 beggars, 
 Even to our very hopes — Ha ! ha 1 
 
 Jos. Alas ! 
 That bitter laugh ! 
 
 Wer. 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? 
 W/io, in this sunken, sickly eye, the pride 
 Of rank and ancestry ? in this worn cheek, 
 And famine-hollowed brow, the lord of halls, 
 Which daily feast a thousand vassals ? 
 Jos. Ha ! this has been a canker in 
 Thy heart from the beginning : but for this, 
 We had not felt our poverty, but as 
 Millions of myriads feel it, cheerfully ; 
 But for these phantoms of thy feudal fathers, 
 Thou miffht'st have earned thy bread, as thousands earn 
 it1 
 Wer. (Ironically.) And been an Hanseatic burgher ? 
 
 Excellent I [Crosse.'i, h. 
 
 Jos. Whate'er thou might'st have been, to m-:- thou art, 
 What no state, high or low, can ever change, 
 My heart's first choice : — which chose thee, knowing nei- 
 ther
 
 JO WERNER. [Act I. 
 
 Thy birth, thy hopes, thy pride; naught, save thy sor- 
 rows : 
 While they last, let me comfort or divide them ; 
 When they end, let mine end with them, or thee 1 
 
 JVer. My better angel ! such I have ever found thee ; 
 This rashness, or this weakness of my temper, 
 Ke'er raised a thought to injure thee or thine. 
 Trust me, when, in my two-and-tvvcntieth spring 
 My father barred me from my father's house. 
 It hurt me less 
 
 Than to behold my boy and my boy's mother 
 Excluded in their innocence from what 
 My faults deerved, exclusion. [A knocking heard, D. F. 
 
 Jos, Hark I 
 
 Wtr. (Fulling his hand to his bosom.) A knocking 1 
 Puts his hand to his bosom as ij to search for some 
 weapon. 
 
 Jos. Oh ! do not look so. I 
 Will to the door ; it cannot be of import 
 In this lone spot of wintry desolation. 
 
 [ Goes to the door and unbolts it. 
 
 Enter Idenstein, d. f. 
 
 Iden. (r.) a fair good evening to my fairer hostess, 
 And worthy — what's your name, my friend 1 
 You have been a guest this month 
 Here in the prince's palace — fto be sure, 
 His highness had resigned it to the ghosts 
 And rats these twelve years — but 'tis still a palace j— 
 I say, you have been our lodger, and as yet 
 We do not know your name. 
 
 Wer. ]\ly name is Werner. 
 
 Id en. Hum ! 
 A goodly name, a very worthy name 
 As e'er was gilt upon a trader's board ; 
 I have a cousin in the lazaretto 
 Of Hamburgh, who has got a wife who bore 
 The same. He is an officer of trust, 
 Surgeon's assistant f hoping to be snrgeon), 
 And has done miracles i' the way of business. 
 Perhaps you are related to my relative ? 
 
 Wir. To yours ?
 
 Scene I.] werner. IJ 
 
 Jos. Oh, yes ; we are, but distantly. 
 (Aside to Werner.) Cannot you humor the dull gossip tilx 
 We learn his jnirpose ? 
 
 Wer. Well, to your business ! 
 What brings you here ? 
 
 Jos. (Aside.) Patience, dear Werner 1 
 
 Iden. You don't know what has happened, then ? 
 
 Jos. How should we ? 
 
 Iden. The river has o'erflowed. 
 
 Jos. Alas ! we have known 
 That to our sorrow, for these five days ; since 
 It keeps us here. 
 
 Iden. But what you don't know is. 
 That a great personage, who fain would cross 
 Against the stream, and three postillions' wishes, 
 Is drowned below the ford, with five post-horses 
 A monkey, and a mastifl", and a valet. 
 
 Jns. Poor creatures !' are you sure ? 
 
 Iden, Yes, of the monkey, 
 And the valet, and the cattle ; but as yet 
 We know not if his excellency's dead 
 Or no ; your noblemen are hard to drown, 
 As it is tit that men in office should be ; 
 But, what is certain is, that he has swallowed 
 Enough of the Oder to have burst two peasants ; 
 And now a Saxon and Hungarian traveller. 
 Who, at their proper peril, snatched him from 
 The whirling river, have sent on to crave 
 A lodging, or a grave, acccJt'ding as 
 It may turn out with the live or dead body. 
 
 Jos. And where will you receive him ? here, I hope, 
 If we can be of service — say the word. 
 
 Iden. Here ? here ? no ; but in the prince's own apartc 
 ment. 
 As fits a noble guest : 'tis damp, no doubt, 
 Kot having been inhabited these twelve years ; 
 But then he comes from a much damper place. 
 So scarcely will catch cold in't, if he be 
 Still liable to cold — and if not, why. 
 He'll be worse lodged to-morrow : ne'ertheless, 
 I have ordered fire and all appliances 
 To be got ready for the worst — that is,
 
 19 WERNER [Act I. 
 
 In case he should survive. 
 
 Jos. Poor gcntlenifin I 
 I hope he will, with all my heart. 
 
 Wer. luteudant, [Crosses to Idenstdn, 
 
 Have you not learned his name? (Aside to Jos.) My 
 
 Josephine, 
 Iletire, rU sift this fool. 
 
 ^ Exit JosqJilne, D. F., closing the door. 
 Did his attendant mention his 
 Kame or title ? 
 
 Idai. His nnme ? oh, Lord ! 
 Who knows if he hath now a name or no. 
 
 Enter Gabor, d. f, 
 
 Gahor. (Lcoldng in.) If I intrude, I crave — 
 
 Mm. Oh, no intrusion ! [Gabor advances, L. 
 
 This is the palace ; this a stran.ffcr like 
 Yourself ; 1 pray you, make yourself at home : 
 
 [ Werner retires. 
 But where's his excellency, and how fares he ? 
 
 Gahor. AVet and wearily, but out of peril ; 
 He paused to change his garments in a cottage, 
 (Where I doffed mine for these, and came on hither), 
 And has almost recovered from his drenching. 
 He will bi! here anon. 
 
 Iden. What, ho, there ! bustle ! 
 Without, there, Herman, Weilburg, Peter, Conrad I 
 
 [Gives directions to six Senmnls,w/io enter, D. F. 
 A nobleman sleeps here to-nigh Ir— see that 
 All is oi'der in the damask chamber — 
 Keep up the stove — I will myself to the cellar — 
 And .Madame Idenstein ('my consort, stranger, j 
 Shall furnish forth the bed-apparel i 
 
 Go, you varlets 1 [Exit Servants, three, r. s. e., three, D. r. 
 But are you sure 
 His excellency — but his name, what is it ? 
 
 Gabor. I do not know. 
 
 Iden. And yet you saved his life. 
 
 Gabor. I helped my friend to do so. 
 
 Iden. Well, that's strange, 
 To save a man's life whom you do not know 
 
 Gabor. Not so ; for there are some I know so well
 
 Scene I.] werneh. 13 
 
 ] scarce should give myself the trouble. 
 
 Idcn. Pray, 
 Good friend, and who may you be? 
 
 Gahor. Bj my family. 
 Huii<:^arian. 
 
 Idcv. Wliich is called? 
 Gahor. Ko matter what. 
 
 Iden. (Aside.) I thiuk that all the world are grown 
 anonymous, 
 Pray, has his excellency a large suite ? 
 GiiJjor. Sufficient. 
 Men. IIow many ? 
 Gahor. I did not count them. 
 We came up Vjy mere accident, and just 
 In time to drag him through his carriage window. 
 
 Idcn. Well, what would I give to save a great man ! 
 No doubt you'll have a swingeing sum as recompense. 
 Gahor. Perhaps, 
 
 Idni. Now, how much do you reckon on ? 
 Gahor. I have not yet put up myself to sale : 
 In the meantime, ray best reward would be 
 A glass of your Hockheimer, 
 For which I promise you, in case you e'er 
 Run hazard of being drowned, (although I own 
 It seems, of all deaths, the least likely for youj, 
 I'll pull you out for nothing. 
 
 Iden. (Aside, going up.) I don't much like this fellow- 
 close and dry 
 He seems, two things which suit me not ; however, 
 Wine he shall have : if that unlocks him not, 
 I sliall not sleep to-night for curiosity. Exit, d. p 
 
 Gahor. (l.) fTo Werner.) This master of the cere- 
 monies is 
 The intf ndant of the palace, I presume : 
 'Tis a f ne building, but decayed. 
 
 Wer. The apartment 
 Design( d f jr him you rescued will be found 
 In Otttr order for a sickly guest. 
 
 Gahor. I wonder, then, you occupied it not, 
 For you seem delicate in health. 
 Wer. (Quicldy.) Sir 1 
 Gahor. Pray
 
 14 WERKES. [Act I. 
 
 Exou?c me : have I said auglit to offend you ? 
 
 Wcr. Notliiii;^ : but \vc arc strangers to each other. 
 
 Gabor. Pardon me : 
 I have been a soldier, and perhaps am blunt 
 In bearing. 
 
 We?: I have also served, and can 
 E-e(|uite a soldier's greeting. 
 
 Gabor. In what service? 
 The Imperial ? 
 
 Tfe/-. (Qidcldy, thm inlerrupting hiinsclf.) I commanded 
 — no — I mean, 
 I served : but it is many years ago. 
 When first Bohemia raised her banner 'gahist 
 The Austrian. 
 
 Gabor. Well, that's over now, and peace 
 lias turned some thousand gallant hearts adrift 
 To live as they best may ; and, to say truth, 
 Some take the shortest. 
 
 Wer. What is that? 
 
 Gabor. Whate'er 
 They lay their hands on. All Silesia and 
 Lusatia's woods are tenanted by bands 
 Of the late troops, who levy on the country 
 Their maintenance. The longest sword now makes 
 The surest title to the heaviest purse. 
 INly comfort is that, wander whei'c I may, 
 I've little left to lose now. 
 
 IVer. And I — nothing. 
 
 Gabor. That's harder still. You say you were a soldier ? 
 
 Wer. I was. 
 
 Gabor. You look one still. All soldiers are 
 Or should be comrades, even though enemies. 
 You are poor and sickly — I am not rich, but healthy 
 I want for nothing which I cannot want ; 
 You seem devoid of this — wilt share it? 
 
 \_Pulls out his purse and offers it to him. 
 
 Wcr. Who 
 Told you I was a beggar ? 
 
 Gabor. You yourself. 
 In saying you were a soldier during peace-time. 
 
 Wer. (Lookivg at him with suspicion.) You know me 
 not?
 
 Scene L] werner. 15 
 
 Gahor. I know no man, not even 
 Myself : how should I then know one I ne'er 
 Bt'lield till half an hour since ? 
 Wer. Sir, I thank you. 
 Your offer's noble, were it to a friend, 
 And not nukiud as to an unknown stranger, 
 Though scarcely prudent ; but no less, 1 thank you. 
 I am a beggar in all save his trade. 
 And when I beg of any one, it shall be 
 Of him who has the first to offer what 
 i^'ew can obtain by asking. Pardon me. [Exit, l. s. e. 
 
 Galor. ( Solus.) A goodly fellow, by his looks, though 
 worn, 
 As most goodly fellows are, by pain or pleasure, 
 Which tear the life out of us before our time : 
 I scarce know which most quickly ; but he seems 
 To have seen better days, as who has not 
 Who has seen yesterday ? 
 
 Idenstein. ( Without, d. f.J Well, that will do. 
 
 Gahor. But here approaches 
 Ot^r sage intendaut, with the wine ; however, 
 For the cup's sake, I'll bear the cup-bearer. 
 
 Enter Indenstein, d. f., ivith salver, bottle, and two green 
 glasses. 
 
 Hen. (Doion, r.) 'Tis here ! the supernaculum 1 twenty 
 years 
 Of age if 'tis a day. 
 
 Gahor. Which epoch makes 
 Young women and old wine, and 'tis great pity 
 Of two such excellent things, increase of years. 
 Which still improves the one, should spoil the other. 
 Fill full — Here's to our hostess — your fair wife. 
 
 [ Takes the glass and drinls. 
 
 Men. Fair ! — Well, I trust your taste in wine is equal 
 To that you show for beauty ; but I pledge you, 
 Nevertheless. [Drinks. 
 
 Gahor. Is not the lovely woman. 
 I met in the adjacent hall your spouse? 
 
 Iden. Ah ! ha ! I would she were ! 
 But you're mistaken — that's the stranger's wife. 
 
 Gahor. And by her aspect she might be a prince's :
 
 16 
 
 WERNER. 
 
 [Act I. 
 
 Though time hath touched her, too, she still retains 
 Much beauty, and more ranjesty. 
 
 Lien. And that 
 Is more than I can say for Madame Tdenstein, 
 At least in hoautv. 
 
 Gahor. But who {Drinks 
 
 May he be, this stranji:er ? how came he here ? 
 
 Lien. In a most miserable old caleche, 
 About a month since, and immediately 
 Fell sick, ahnost to death, lie should have died. 
 
 Gahor. Tender and true !— but why ? IDrinks. 
 
 Lkn. Wiiy, what is life 
 Without a iivinji; ? He has not a stiver. 
 
 Gahor. In tliat case, I much wonder that a person 
 Of your apparent j)rudence should admit 
 Guests so forlorn into this nolde mansion. 
 
 Lien. Tiiat's true ; but pity, as you know, does make 
 One's heart commit these folHes ; and besides, 
 They had some valuables left at that time, 
 Whicli paid their way up to the present hour, 
 And so I i^ave them 
 
 Tlie run of some of the oldest palace rooms. 
 They served to air them, at the least, as long 
 As they could pay for firewood. [Drinks. 
 
 Gahor. Poor souls 1 
 
 Lden. Ay, 
 Exceeding poor. 
 
 Gahor. And yet unused to poverty, ^ 
 
 If I mistake not. Whither were they going ? 
 
 Iclen. Oh 1 Heaven knows where, unless to heaven it- 
 self ! 
 Some days ago that looked the likeliest journey 
 For Werner. 
 
 Gahor. Werner I I have heard the name, 
 But it may be a feigned one. 
 
 Lkn. (l.j Like enough ! 
 But hark ! a noise of wheels and voices, and 
 A blaze of torches from without. As sure 
 As destiny, his excellency's come. 
 I mast be at my i)Ost : will you not join me, 
 To help him from his carriage, and present 
 Your humble duty at the door ?
 
 Scene I.'j wrrner. 17 
 
 Gabnr. I drairjirecl Wm 
 From out that carringe when he v»'Ould have given 
 His barony or county to repel 
 The riishhig river from hisgurg-linf)^ throat. 
 For duty, fas you call itj 1 did mine then, 
 Isow do yours. Ileuce, and bow and cringe liira here I 
 
 Ickn. /cringe ! — but I shall lose the opportunity — 
 Plague take it 1 he'll be here, and I not there ! 
 
 \_Exit hastily, d. f. 
 Be-cnter Werner, l. s. e. 
 
 Wer. ( To himself.) I heard a noise of wheels and voices. 
 How 
 
 All sounds now jar me ! 
 
 (Ferctiving Gahor.) Still here ! Is he not 
 
 A spy of my pursuer's ? His frank offer, 
 
 So suddenly, and to a stranger wore 
 
 The aspect of a secret enemy : 
 
 For friends are slow at such. \_Crosses, r. 
 
 Gabor. (Rises.) Sir, you seem rapt, 
 And yet the time is not a kin to thought. 
 These old walls will be noisy soon. The baron, 
 Or count, for whatsoe'er this half-drowned noble 
 May be,) for whom tiiis desolate village, and 
 Its lone inhabitants, show more respect 
 Than did the elements, is come. (Dowiib. cortier. 
 
 Idenstein. ( Without.) This way — 
 This way, your excellency : have a care, 
 The staircase is a little gloomj', and 
 Somewhat decayed ; but if we had expected 
 So high a guest — pray take my arm, my lord 1 
 
 Enter six Servants of the Place, with torches, and range on 
 each side of the Stage — Idensteix and B.arox down c, 
 Idenstein at l. of Paron Strcdenheim, o[ficiouslv bowing 
 and scraping. Six Servants of the Baron follow and 
 range in double fde across the bade — all enter, d. f. — 
 Fritz enters at k. of Baron. 
 
 Stra. I'll rest me here a moment. 
 Idcn. Ho ! a chair ! 
 Instantly, knaves ! 
 
 (Friz places a chair, and StraUnheim sits
 
 18 WERNER. [Act I. 
 
 Wer. (Aside.) 'Tis he 1 I'm lost I 
 
 Stra. I'm better now. 
 "Who are these strangers ? 
 
 Iden. Please you, my good lord, 
 One says he is no stranger. 
 
 Wer. (Aloud a7id hastily.) TF/^fl says that? 
 
 (T/iey look at him with surprise. 
 
 Idcn. Why, no one spoke of yon, or to you ! — but 
 ITcre's one his excellency may be pleased 
 To recognise. (Fainting to Gabor 
 
 Gahor. I seek not to disturb 
 His noble memory. 
 
 Stra. I apprehend 
 This is one of the strangers to whose aid 
 I owe my rescue. Is not that the other? 
 
 (Pointing to Werner. 
 
 Men. lie ! — no, my lord ! he rather wants lor rescue 
 Than can afford it. 'Tis a poor sick man, 
 Travel-tired, and lately risen from a bed, 
 From whence he never dreamed to rise 
 
 Stra. Methought 
 That there were two. 
 
 Gahor. There were, in company ; 
 But, in the service rendeied to your lord.ship, 
 I needs must say but one, and he is absent. 
 The chief part of whatever aid was rendered 
 Was his ; I was but a glad second 
 Unto a nobler principal. 
 
 Stra. AVhereishe? 
 
 Fritz, (h.) My lord, he tarried in the cottage where 
 Your excellency rested for an hour, 
 And said he would be here to-morrow. (Retires. 
 
 Stra. Till 
 That hour arrives, I can but offer thanks, 
 And then — 
 
 Gabor. I seek no more, and scarce deserve 
 So much. My comrade may speak for himself. 
 
 Stra. {Fixing his eyes upon Werner, then aside.") 
 It cannot be ! and yet it must be looked to. 
 'Tii twenty yearsince I beheld him with 
 These eyes. Why did I leave 
 At Hamburgh those who would have made assurance
 
 SCF,XE I.] WERNER. 19 
 
 If this be lie or no ? this sudden flood 
 May keep me prisoner here till — 
 
 [Pauses and looks at Werner, then resumes. 
 Tliis man must 
 
 Be watched. If it is he, he is so changed, 
 His father, rising from his grave again, 
 Would pass by him unknown. I must be wary ; 
 An eiror would spoil all. 
 
 Idcn Comivg forward, l.) Your Lordsliip seems 
 Pensive. Will it not jjlease you to pass on ? 
 Slra. Yes, I will to rest. 
 
 [Hhcs. — Frilz draws bad: ike chair. 
 Men. The prince's chamber is })rei)art'd, with all 
 The very furniture of the prince used when 
 Last here, in its full splendor. (Aside.) Somewliat tattered, 
 And devilish damp, but fine enough Ijy torchlight. 
 
 lDis7nisses his men Scrvanls, who give their torches to 
 tStralenheivi's Attendants, and then exeunt, d. f. — 
 Idenstein directs Stralenheivi's Servants off', r. s. e. 
 Stra. Good night, good people ! (Turning to Gabor.) 
 Sir, I trust to-morrow 
 Will find me apter to requite your service. 
 In the mean time, I crave your company 
 A moment in my chamber, 
 Gabor. I attend you. 
 Stra. [After a few steps, pauses, and calls Werner. 
 
 Friend ! 
 Wer. Sir ! 
 
 Iden. (Running to Werner.) Sir ! Lord — oh, Lord I 
 Wbv don't you say 
 Ilis lordship, or his excellency ? Pray, 
 My lord, excuse this poor man's want of breeding : 
 He hath nor been accustomed to admission 
 To such a presence. 
 
 Stra. Peace, Intendaut 1 
 Iden. Oh ! 
 I am dumb ! 
 
 Stra. (Advances to Werner ) Have you been long here ? 
 Wer. Long ? 
 Stra. I sought 
 An answer, not an echo.
 
 20 WERXER. [Act I. 
 
 Wer. You may seek 
 Both from tlie walls. I am not used to answer 
 Those whom I k'low not. 
 
 Stra. Indeed ! Nevertheless, 
 You raii,'ht reply with courtesy, to what 
 Is asked in kiiuliioss. 
 
 TTcr. When I knew it such, 
 I will requite — that is, repli/ — iu unison. 
 
 *S//-a. The lutendaut said, you had been detained by 
 sickness — 
 If I could aid you — jonrneying the same way 1 
 
 Wer. (Quickly.) I am not jourueying the same way I 
 
 Stra. How know ye 
 That, ere you know my route ? 
 
 Wer. Because there is 
 But one way that the rich and poor must tread 
 Together. You diverged from that dread path 
 Some hours ago, and 1 some days ; henceforth 
 Our roads must lie asunder, though they tend 
 All to one home. 
 
 Stra. Your language is above 
 Your station. 
 
 Wer. (Bilterly.) Is it? 
 
 Stra. Or, at least, beyond 
 Your garb 
 
 Wer. 'Tis weli that it is not beneath it, 
 As sometimes happens to the better clad. 
 But, in a word, what would you with me ? 
 
 Stra. ( Startled.) I ? 
 
 Wer. Yes — you ! You know me not, and question mo, 
 And wonder that I answer not — not knowing 
 My inquisitor. Explain what you would have, 
 And then I'll satisfy yourself, or me. 
 
 Stra. I knew not that you liad reasons for reserve. 
 
 Wer. Many have such : — Have you none ? 
 
 Stra. None which can 
 Interest a mere stranger. 
 
 Wer. Then forgive 
 The same unknown and humble stranger, if 
 He wishes to remain so to the man 
 Who can have naught in common with him. 
 
 Stra. Sir,
 
 SCEXE l.J WERXKR. 21 
 
 I will not baulk your humor, tliou;;n untoward : 
 
 I only meant your service — but, good niglit ! 
 
 Intendaiit, slio'.v the way ! [Ilea, takes the torch from Fritz. 
 
 (To Galor.) Sir you will with uie ? 
 
 [Exeunt Slralenhei/n preceded by Idenstcin and followed 
 by Gabor and Fritz, r. s, e 
 Wer. ( Solus.) 'Tis he ! I am taken in the toils. Be- 
 fore 
 I quitted Hamburgh Giulio, his late steward, 
 In{'ormo('. me that he had obtained an order 
 From Brandenburgli's elector, for the arrest 
 Of Kruitzner fsuch the name I then bore,j when 
 I came ujiou the frontier ; the free city 
 Alone preserved my freedom — till I left 
 Its walls — fool that I was to quit thera I But 
 I deemed this humble garb, and route obscure 
 Had baffl"d the slow hounds in tlieir pursuit. 
 AV hat's to be done ? He knows me not by person ; 
 Nor could aught save the eye of apprehension, 
 Have recognised him, after twenty years, 
 We met so rarely and so coldly in 
 Our youth. But those about him ! Xow I can 
 Divine the frankness of the Hungarian, who, 
 Xo doubt, is a mere tool and spy of Stralenheim's, 
 To sound and to secure me. Without means ! 
 Sick, poor — begirt, too, with the flooding rivers, 
 How can I hope ! Another day. 
 And I'm detected, — on the very even 
 Of honors, rights, and my inheritance. 
 When a few drops of gold might save me still 
 In favoring an escape. [Throivs himself in chair, i,. 
 
 Enter Idexsteix and Fritz, r. s. £., xcilh a torch and packet 
 
 Fritz. Immediately. 
 
 Lien. I tell you, 'tis impossible. 
 
 Fritz. It must 
 Be tried, however ; and if one express 
 Fail, you must send on others, till the answer 
 Arrives from Frankfort, from the commandant. 
 
 [Giving packet, 
 
 Iden. I will do wha*. I can
 
 22 WERKER. [Act I. 
 
 Fntz. AtkI recollect 
 To spare no trouble ; you will be repaid 
 Tenlold. 
 
 Idea. The Baron is retired to rest ; 
 He hath thrown himself into an easy chair 
 Beside the fire, and slumbers ; and has ordered 
 Jle may not be disturbed until eleven, 
 ^Vhen lie will take himself to bed. 
 
 Id en. Be lure 
 An hour is \y.\>i I'll do my best to serve bim. 
 
 Fniz. ll'-memljcr I ' Exit, R. 
 
 Lien. The devil take these great men ! they 
 Think all things made for them. Kow here must I 
 House np some half a dozen shiverini^ vassals 
 From their scant pallets, and, at peril of 
 Their lives, despatch them o'er the river towards 
 Frankfort, Methinks the baron's own experience 
 bome hours ago might teach him fellow-feeling : 
 But no, "it ?H?<5f," and there's an end. How now? 
 Are you there. Mynheer Werner? 
 
 Wer. You have left 
 Your noble guest right quickly. 
 
 Idcn. Yes — he's dozing, 
 And seems to like that none shonld sleep besides. 
 Here is a packet for the commandant 
 Of Frankfort, at all risks and all expenses ; 
 But 1 must not lose time : Goodnig'at 1 [^Ezit, d. p. 
 
 Wer. " To Frankfort !" IRises 
 
 So, so, it thickens ! Ay, "the coraraandant.'* 
 This tallies well with all the prior steps 
 Of this cool, calculating fiend, who walks 
 Between me and my father's house. Detested 
 Coward, he goads me into madness ! No doubt 
 He writes for a detachment to convey me 
 Into some secret fortress. — Sooner than 
 This — ( Looks around, and snatclie^i up a knife lying on a falh.) 
 
 isow I am master of myself at least. 
 Hark, — footsteps I Uow^ do 1 know that Stralenheim 
 "Will wait for even the show of state authority? 
 All that is dear in life, e'en life itself, 
 Hangs on a moment I 
 That he suspects me's certain. I'm alone :
 
 Scene I,] werner. 23 
 
 He with a numerous train. I weak ; he stron;^ 
 
 In gold, in numbers, rank, authority. Hark ! nearer stiil 1 
 
 I'll to the secret passage, which communicates 
 
 "With the — No ! all is silent — 'twas my fancy I — 
 
 Still the breatless interval betn'een 
 
 Tlie flash and thunder : — I must hu.sh my soul 
 
 Amidst its perils. Yet I will retire, 
 
 To see if still be unexplored the passage 
 
 I wot of : it will serve me as a den 
 
 Of secrecy for some hours, at the worst, 
 
 [Draws a 'panel and exit, closivg it afler him. 
 Enter GrABOR xcith a torch, R. s. 'E..,and Josepaine, d. f., with 
 lamps. 
 
 Gahor. Where is your Imsband ? [Looking rouiid. 
 
 Jos. Here, I thought : I left him 
 Kot long since in his ciiambcr. But these rooms 
 Have many outlets, and he may be gone 
 To accompany the Intendant. [Puts the lamps on table. 
 
 Gahor. (Approaching her.) Baron Straleuheim 
 Put many questions so the Intendant on 
 The subject of your lord, and, to be plain, 
 I have my doubts it meaus well. 
 
 Jos. Alas ! 
 What can there be in common with tlie proud 
 And wealthy Baron and the unknown \Veruer ? 
 
 Gahor. That you know best. 
 
 Jos. Or, if it were so, how 
 Come you to stir yourself in his behalf, 
 lluther than that of him whose life you saved? 
 
 Gahor. I helped to save him, as in peril ; but 
 I did not pledge myself to serve him iu 
 Oppressiou. 1 know well these nobles, and 
 Their thousand modes of trampling on the poor. 
 I have proved them ; and my spirit boils up when 
 I hnd them practising against the weak : — 
 This is my only motive. 
 
 Jos. It would be 
 Kot easy to persuade my husband of 
 Your good intentions. 
 
 Gahor. Is he so suspicious ? 
 
 Jos. ( Sighing.) He was at once ; but time am] trou- 
 bles have
 
 24 WERNER. [Act I. 
 
 [Made him what you beheld. 
 
 Gahor. I'm sorry for it. \Goingu'p,-R. 
 
 Suspicion is a heavy armor, and 
 AVith its own wcig-ht impedes more than it protects. 
 Good night. I trust to meet with liim at daybreak. 
 
 Exit, D. F. — Toscphine retires up the Hall. 
 
 Jos. And 'tis to be amongst these sovereigns 
 Aly liusband pants ! and such his pride of birth — 
 Wliilst I, born nobly also, from my father's 
 Kindness was taught a diHerent lesson. Ulric ! my son 1 
 What's that? 
 
 Enter "Werner hastily icifh the knife in his hand, by tlie secret 
 panel, ichich he closes hurriedly after him. 
 
 Thou, Werner can it be ? and thus. 
 
 Wer. (Not at first recognizing her.) Discovered 1 then 
 I'll stab — (Recognizing her.) Ah ! Josephine, 
 Why art thou not at rest ? 
 
 Jos. What rest ? Great Heaven ! 
 What doth tliis mean ? 
 
 Wer. ( Showing a purse.) Here's gold — ^g"oW, Josephine, 
 Will rescue us from this detested dungeon. 
 
 Jos. I dare not think thee guilty of dishonor. 
 
 Wer. Dislionor ! 
 
 Jos. I have said it. 
 
 Wer. Let us hence : 
 Let us to oar chamber. 
 
 Jos. Yet one question — 
 What hast thou donef 
 
 Wer. ( Fiera'ly.) Left one thing undone, which 
 Had made all well : let me not think of it 1 
 Away 1 lExeiint, l. 
 
 END OF ACT I.
 
 Scene I.] werner. 25 
 
 ACT II. 
 
 Scene I . — A Hall in the same Pau(ce. 
 
 Enter Idekstein, Fritz, and four Servants, r. — Idenstein 
 paces in a great hurry up and down. 
 
 Iden. Fine doings ! goodly doings ! honest doings 1 
 A baron pillaged in a prince's palace ! 
 Oh ? that I ere slioaid live to see this day ! 
 The honor of our city's gone forever, [Crosses, l. 
 
 Friz. Well, but now to discover the delinquent : 
 The baron is determined not to lose 
 This sum without a search. 
 
 Iden. And so am I. 
 
 Friiz. But whom do you suspect ? 
 
 Iden. Suspect all people 
 Without — within — above — below — Ileaven help me ! 
 
 [ Crosses, r. 
 
 Fritz. Is there no other entrance to the chamber ? 
 
 luden. None whatsoever. 
 
 Fritz. The man call'd Werner's poor ? 
 
 Iden. Poor as a miser, 
 But lodged so far oil, in the other wing 
 That it can't be he. 
 
 Fritz. Tiiere's another, 
 The stranger — 
 
 Iden. The Hungarian ? 
 
 Fritz. He who helped 
 T© tish the Baron from the Oder? 
 Now, the only question is — Who else could havo 
 Access, save the Hungarian and yourself ? 
 
 Iden. You don't mean me? 
 
 Fritz. No, sir ; I honor more 
 Your talents — 
 
 Iden. Andy ray principles, I hope. 
 
 Fritz. Of course. But to the point : What's to be 
 done ? 
 
 Iden. Um — why, 
 Nothing — but there's a good deal to be said. 
 We'll offer a reward ; move heaven and earth, 
 And the police, (though there's none nearer than 
 
 I
 
 26 WERNER. [Act IL 
 
 Frankfort ;) post notices in manuscript, 
 (For we've no printer ; ) and set by my clerk 
 To read them, f for few can, save he and 1.) 
 We'll send out villains to strip beggars, and 
 Seardi empty pockets ; also, to arrest 
 Ail gipsies, and ill-clothed and sallow people. 
 Frisoncis we'll have at least, if not the culprit; 
 And there's some comfort 
 For your lord's losses ! 
 
 Fiilz. lie hath found a better. 
 
 Idm. Where ? 
 
 Frilz. In a most immense inheritance. 
 The late Count Siegendorf, his distant kinsman, 
 Is dead near Prague, in his castle, and my lord 
 Is on his way to take possession. 
 
 Idea. Was there 
 ISo heir ? 
 
 Frilz. Oh, yes ; but he has disappeared 
 Long from the world's eye, and perhaps the world 
 A prodigal son, beneath his father's baa 
 For the last twenty years ; 
 'Tis true, there is a grandson, but then 
 His birth is doubtful. 
 
 Idm. How so ? 
 
 Fritz. His prodigal father made 
 A hasty love, impiudent sort of marriage 
 With an Italian exile's dark-eyed daughter : 
 The grandsire never since could be induced 
 To see the j)arents though he took the son. 
 But the strangest is, that he too disappeared 
 Some months ago. 
 
 Men. The devil hn did ! 
 Was there no cause assigned ? 
 
 Fritz. Plenty, no doubt, 
 And none perhaps the true one. Some 
 Charitably have surmised. 
 
 As tliere was something strange and mystic in him, 
 That in the wild exuberance of his nature. 
 He had joined the black bauds who lay waste Lusatia. 
 
 Idcn. That cannot be. 
 A young heir, bred to wealth and luxury— 
 
 Fritz. Heaven knows best 1
 
 Scene 1. 1 werneb. 10 
 
 But there are human natures so allied 
 
 Unto the savage love of enterprise, 
 
 Tliat they will seek for peril as a pleasure. 
 
 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. [ T/iey retire, R. 
 
 Enter Ulric and Stralenheim, r. 
 
 Stra. But 
 Can I not serve yon ? 
 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. 
 
 Ulric. You shall say so when 
 I claim the payment. 
 
 Stra. Well, sir, since you will not — 
 You are nobly born ? 
 
 Ulric. I've heard my kinsmen say so. 
 
 Stra. Your actions show it. Might I ask your name ? 
 
 Ulric Ulric. 
 
 Stra. Your house's ? 
 
 Ulric. When I'm worthy of it, 
 I'll answer you. [Retires, L. 
 
 Stra. (Aside.) Most probably an Austrian, 
 Whom these unsettled times forbid to boast 
 His lineage on these wild and dangerous frontiers. 
 
 [ To Fritz oiul Idenstcin, who conn down, r. 
 So, sirs ! how have ye sped in your researches ? 
 
 Iden. Indifferent well, your exccUeucy. 
 
 Stra. Then 
 I am to deem the plunderer is caught ? 
 
 Iden. Humph 1 — not exactly. 
 
 Stra. Or, at least, suspected ? 
 
 Idci. Oh ! for tliat matter, very much suspected. 
 
 Stra. Who may he be ? 
 
 Iden, Why, don't i/oic know, my lord ? 
 
 Stra. How should 1 ? 1 was fast asleep, 
 
 Iden. And so 
 Was I, aud that's the cause I kaow ao more.
 
 28 WERNER. [Act II. 
 
 Tbfin does yonr excellency. 
 
 Stra. Dolt ! 
 
 If/cn. AVhy, if 
 Your lordsliii), being robloed, don't recoj2:nise 
 The roLMic, how should I, not l)eing robbed, identify 
 The thief among so many ? In the crowd, 
 May it j)lease your excellency, your thief looks 
 Kxiictiy liki; tlie rest, or rather better, 
 
 Slra. (To Fritz.) Prithee, Fr.tz, inform me 
 What hath been done to trace the fellow ? 
 
 Fritz. Faith, 
 My lord, not much as yet, except conjecture. 
 
 Slra. Besides the loss fwhich, I must own, affects me 
 Just now materially j, I needs would find 
 The villain out of public motives. 
 
 Ulric. (h.) What is all this ? 
 
 Stra. You joined us but this morning. 
 And have not heard that I was robbed last night. 
 
 Ulric. Some rumor of it reached me as I passed 
 The outer chambers of the palace, but 
 I know no further. 
 
 Stra. It is a strange business : 
 The Intendant can inform you of the facts. 
 
 Iden. Most willingly. You see — 
 
 Stra. (Impatiently.) Defer your tale 
 Till certain of the hearer's patience. 
 
 Iden. That 
 Can only be approved by proofs. You see — 
 
 Stra. {Again interrvpting him, and addressing Ulric.) 
 In short, I was asleep upon a chair. 
 My cabinet before me, with my purse 
 Upon it, (containing more than I much like to losej 
 Well, some ingenious person 
 Contrived to glide through all my own attendants, 
 Besides those of the palace, and bore away with 
 A hundred golden ducats, which to find 
 1 would be fain, and there's an end ; perhaps 
 You fas I still am rather faint, j would add 
 To yesterday's great obligation, this. 
 Though slighter, yet not slight, to aid these men 
 ^Who seem but lukewarm) in recovering it ? 
 
 Ulric. Most willingly, and without loss of time —
 
 Scene I.] "vterner. 29 
 
 (To Idevslein.) Come hither, Mynheer: 
 
 Idfji. But so much liaste bodes 
 Rijiht little speed, and — 
 
 Uhic. Standing motionless 
 I^one ; so lei's march, we'll talk as we go on, 
 
 Jdrn. But — 
 
 Ulric. Show the spot, and then I'll answer yon. 
 
 Frilz. ( Comivg down, c.) I will, sir, with his excel] ency's 
 leave. 
 
 Stra. Do so, and take yon old ass with you. 
 
 Frilz. Forward, and quickly. 
 
 Ulric. Come on, old oracle, expound thy riddle ! 
 
 {Exit with Idenslein and Fritz, r. 
 
 Sira. A stalwart, active, soldier-looking stripling, 
 And with a brow of thougiit beyoud his years. 
 I wish I could engage him : 
 I have need of some such spirits near me now, 
 For this inheritance is wortli a struggle. 
 The boy, they say's a bold one ; 
 But he hath played the truant, leaving fortune to 
 Champion his claims : that's well. Tlie father, whom 
 For years I've tracked, as does the bloodliound, never 
 In sight, but constantly in scent, had put me 
 To fault, but hire I have him, and that's better. 
 It must be he ! All circumstance proclaims it ; 
 Yes ! the man, his bearing, and the mystery 
 Of his arrival, and the time. 
 All, all confirm it 1 In a few hours, 
 Tlie order comes from Frankfort, if these waters 
 Rise not the higher, (and the weather favors 
 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 1 deem. 
 
 Enter Gabor, l. 
 
 Friend, how fare you ? 
 
 Gabor. As those who fare well everywhere, when they 
 Have supped and slumbered, no great matter how — 
 I came here to seek you. 
 
 Your couriers are turned back — I have outstripped them 
 In my return.
 
 80 WERNER. [Act II. 
 
 Slra. You !— Why ? 
 
 Gabor. I went at daybreak 
 To watch for the abatement of the river, 
 As being anxious to resume my journey, 
 You messengers were all checked like myself ; 
 And, seeing the case hopeless, I await 
 The current's pleasure. 
 
 Stra. Would the dogs were in it ! 
 Why did they not, at least, attempt the passage ? 
 I ordered this at all risks. I must see to it : [Crosses, r>. 
 The knaves ! the slaves ! — but they shall smart for this. 
 
 [Exit, L. 
 
 Gabor. There goes my noble, feudal, self-willed baron 1 
 Yesterdny he would have given 
 Uis land^;, fif he had any,) for as much fresh air 
 As would have filled a bladder, 
 And now he storms at half a dozen wretches 
 Because thoy love their lives, too ! Yet he's right : 
 'Tis strauge they should, when such as he may put them 
 To hazard at his pleasure. Oh ! thou world ! 
 Thou art indeed a melancholy jest ! [Exit, l. 
 
 Scene II. — TJie Aparlmtnt of Werner in the Palace. — Ta- 
 ble and Chair. 
 
 Josephine mid Ulric discovered. 
 
 Jos. (Bises.) Stand back, and let me look on thee againl 
 My Ulric ! — my beloved! — can it be — 
 Alter twelve years 'i 
 
 Ulric. jSly dearest mother] 
 
 Jos. Yes 1 
 lAy dream is realized — how beautiful — 
 Uow 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. 
 
 Ulric. If such a joy await me, it must double 
 What I now feel, and lighten from my heart 
 A. part of the long debt of duty, not 
 Of love, (for that was ne'er with held j — forgive me 1 
 This long delay was not my fault. 
 
 Jos. I know it,
 
 Scene II.] werxer. 31 
 
 But cannot think of sorrow now, and doabt 
 
 If I e'er felt it. 
 
 My son I (Seeing Werner, crosses to him. 
 
 Enter Werner, r. s. e. 
 
 Wer. What have we here, more strangers ? 
 
 Jos. No ! 
 Look upon him ! What do you see ? 
 
 Ifer. A stripling, 
 For the first time — (Crosses to kirn. 
 
 Ulric. (Kneeling.) For twelve long years, my father ! 
 
 Wer. Oh 1 (Falls — Ulric catches him in his arms and 
 assists Josephine to place him in a chair which she has 
 rapidly moved down to him. 
 
 Jos. He faints 1 • 
 
 Wer. No — I am better now — 
 Ulric ! (Embraces him. 
 
 Ulric. My father, Siegendorf ! 
 
 Wer. ( Starting up.) Hush 1 boy — 
 The walls may hear that name ! 
 
 Ulric. What then ? 
 
 Wer. Why, then— 
 But we will talk of that anon. Remember, 
 I must be known here but as Werner. Come I 
 Come to my arms again ! Josephine 1 
 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 I [^Josephine crosses behind toL. of Ulrie, 
 
 Are you aware my father is no more ? 
 
 Ulric. Oh, heavens ! I left him in a green old age. 
 'Twas scarce three months since. 
 
 Wer. Why did you leave him ? 
 
 Jos. (Embracing Ulnc. ) Can you ask that questioa ? 
 Is he not here 7 
 
 Wer. True ; he hath sought his parents. 
 And found them ; but, oh ! hoiv, and in what state ! 
 
 Ulric. All shall be bettered. What we have to do 
 Is 10 proceed, and to assert our rights. 
 
 Wer. Have you not heard of Stralenheim 1 
 
 Ulric. 1 saved 
 nis life bat yesterday : he's hero.
 
 82 WERNER. [Act II, 
 
 Wer. You saved 
 The serpent who will sting us all 1 
 
 Ulric. You spoak 
 RiddFes : what is this Stralenheim to ns ? 
 
 Wer. Everything. One who claims our father's lands : 
 Our distant kingsman, and our nearest foe. 
 
 Ulric. I never heard his name till now — and what then ? 
 His right must yield to ours. 
 
 Wer. Ay, if at Prague : 
 But here he is all powerful ; and has spread 
 Snares for thy father. 
 
 Ulric. Doth he personally know you ? 
 
 Wer. No ; but he guesses shrewdly at my person, 
 As he betrayed last night : and I, perhaps, 
 But owe my temporary liberty 
 To his uncertainty. 
 
 Ulnc. I thick you wrong him, 
 CExcuse me for the phrase ;) but Stralenheim 
 Is not what you prejudge him, or, if so, 
 He owes me something both for past and present : 
 I saved his life, he therefore trusts in me ; 
 He hath been plundered too, since he came hither ; 
 Is sick ; a stranger ; and as such not now 
 Able to trace the villain who hath robbed him : 
 I have pledged myself to do so ; and the business 
 Which brought me here was chiefly that : but I 
 Have found, in searching for another's dross, 
 My own whole treasure — you, my parents ! 
 
 Wer. (Agitatedly.) Who taught you thus to brand an 
 unknown being 
 With the name of villain ? 
 
 Ulric. My own feelings 
 Taught me to name a ruffian from his deeds. 
 
 Wer. Who taught you, long sought, and ill-found boy I 
 that 
 It would be safe for my own son to insult me ? 
 
 Ulric. I named a villain. What is there in common 
 With such a being and my father ? 
 
 Wer. Everything 1 
 That ruffian is thy father ? 
 
 Jos. (Rushing up to Werner.) Oh, my son I 
 Believe him not — and yet ! —
 
 Scene IL] ■werner. 33 
 
 [Her mice falters, and she hursts into tears as she pas- 
 ses hehivd, r. 
 Ulric. ( Starts, looks earnestly at TVer7ier, and then says 
 
 slowly.) And yon avow it? 
 Wer. Ulric, before you dare despise your father, 
 Learn to divine and judj^e his actions. Young, 
 Rasli, new to life, and reared in hi.xury'slap, 
 Is it for you to measure passion's force, 
 Or misery's temptation ? Wait — f not lonjr. 
 It cometh like the niglit, and quickly; — Wait ! — 
 Wait till, like me, your hopes are blighted — till 
 Sorrow and shame are handmaids of your cabin ; 
 Famine and poverty your guests at table ; 
 Despair your bed-fellow — then rise, but not 
 From sleep, and judge ! Should the day e'er arrive — 
 Should you see then the serpent who hath coiled 
 Himself around all that is dear and noble 
 Of you and yours, lie slumbering in your path, 
 With but his folds between your steps and happiness 
 When he, who lives but to tear from your name, 
 Lands, life itself, lies at your mercy, with 
 Chance your conductor ; midnight for your mantle ; 
 The bare knife in your hand, and earth asleep, 
 Even to your deadliest foe ; and he as 'twere 
 Inviting death by looking like it, while 
 His death alone can save you : — Thank your God ! 
 If, then, like me, content with petty plunder, 
 You turn aside — I did so. \_Drojps into a chair 
 
 in ic. But— 
 
 Wer. (Abruptly.) Hear me I 
 I will not brook a human voice — scarce dare - 
 Listen to ray own (if that be human still j — 
 Hear me ! you do not know this man — 1 do. 
 He's mean, deceitful, avaricious. You 
 Deem yourself safe, as young and brave ; but learn 
 Kone are secure from desperation, few 
 From subtlety. He was within my power — 
 I'm now in his : — are you not so ? 
 Who tells you that he knows you not 1 Who says 
 He bath not lured you here to end you ? or 
 To plunge you, with your parents, in a dungeon ? 
 
 {^Panses.
 
 34 WERNER. [Act II. 
 
 TJlrii:. Proceed — proceed ! 
 
 Wer. Me he luitli ever known, 
 And hunted through each change of time — name — for- 
 tune — 
 And why not yoib ? Are you more versed in men ? 
 He wound snares round me ; flung along my path 
 Reptiles, whom, in ray youth, I would have spurned 
 Even from my presence ; but, in spurning now, 
 Fill only with fresh venom. Will you be 
 More patient ? Poverty — insult — chains — 
 My birthright seized — while my despairing 
 Wife — could you endure all this ? 
 Ulric 1 — Ulric ! — there are crimes 
 Made venial by the occasion, and temptations 
 Which nature cannot master or forbear. 
 
 \_Crosses, k. and hack. 
 
 Ulric. (Look first at him, and then at Josepnine.) My 
 mother ! 
 
 IVer. Ay ! I thought so : you have now 
 Only one parent. I have lost alike 
 Father and son, and stand alone. 
 
 [Rushes out of the chamber, l. 
 
 Ulric. (Following.) But stay ! 
 
 Jos. Follow him not, until this storm of passion 
 Abates. Think'st thou that were it well for him 
 I had not followed ? 
 
 Ulric. I obey you, mother, 
 Although reluctantly. My first act shall not 
 Be one of disobedience. 
 
 Jos. Oh ! he is good 1 
 Condemn him not from his own mouth, but trust 
 To me, who have borne so much with him, and for him, 
 That this is but the surface of his soul. 
 And that the depth is rich in better things. 
 Alas ! long years of grief 
 Have made him sometimes thus. 
 
 Ulric. Explain to me 
 More clearly, then, these claims of Stralenheim, 
 That, when I see the subject in its bearings, 
 I may prepare to face him, or at least. 
 To extricate you from your present perils. 
 1 pledge myself to accomplish this — but would
 
 SCEVE IL] WERXER 35 
 
 I had arrived a few hours sooner I 
 Jos. Hadst thou but done so ! 
 
 Enter Gabor and Idenstein, with six Attendants, l. 
 
 Gabor. (To Ulric.) I have sought you, comrade. 
 So, this is my reward I 
 
 Ulric. What do you mean ? 
 
 Gabor. 'Sdeath 1 have I lived to these years, and for 
 this ! 
 ( To Idenslein.) But for your age and folly, I would — 
 
 Men. (l. corner.) Help ! 
 Hauds off ! Touch an Intendant ! 
 
 Ulric. Unriddle this vile wrangling, or — 
 
 Guhor. At once, then, 
 The baron has been robbed, and upon me 
 This worry personage has deigned to fix 
 His kind suspicions — me I whom he ne'er saw 
 Till yester' evening. 
 You hound of malice ! [ -Seizes Idmstdn. 
 
 Ulric. (Interfering. ) Nay, no violence . 
 He's old, unarmed — be temperate, Gabor ! 
 
 Gabor. (Letting go Idenslein.) True : 
 I am a fool to. lose myself because 
 Fools deem me knave : it is tlieir homage. 
 
 Ulric. ( To Idenslein, touching his shoulder.) How 
 Fare you ? 
 
 Ideii. Help ! 
 
 Ulric. I have helped you. 
 
 Ide7i. Kill him, then ! 
 I'll say so. 
 
 Gabor. I am calm — live on ! 
 
 Iden. That's more 
 Than you shall do, if there be judge or judgment 
 In Germany. The baron shall decide ! 
 ~ Gabor. Does he abet you in your accusation ? 
 
 Iden. Does he not ? 
 
 Gabor. Then, next time let him go sink 
 Ere I go hang for snatching him from drowning. 
 But here he comes ! 
 
 Enter Stralexheim, l. 
 (Goes up to him.) My noble lord, I'm here I
 
 36 WERNEB. ]ACT II, 
 
 Stra. Well, sir I 
 
 Gnbor. TIave you auglit with, mc? 
 
 Stra. What should I 
 Have with you ? 
 
 Gabor. You know best, if yesterday's 
 Flood has not washed away your memory ; 
 But that's a trifle. I stand here accused, 
 In phra-;es not equivocal, by yon 
 Intendant, of the pillage of your person, 
 Or chamber — is the charge your own, or bis ? 
 
 Stra. I accuse no man. 
 
 Gdhor. Tlien you acquit me, baron ? 
 
 Stra. I know not whom to accuse, or to acquit, 
 Or scarcely to suspect. 
 
 Gdhor. But you, at least, 
 Should know whom not to suspect. I am insulted — 
 I demand of you 
 
 Justice upon your unjust servants, and 
 From-your own lips a disavowal of 
 All sanction of their insolence. 
 
 Stra. (WUk contemptuous indifference.) You 
 Are hot, sir. [ Crosses, r. 
 
 Gabor. JNIust I turn an icicle 
 Before the breath of menials, and their master ? 
 
 Stra. Ulric ! yoa know this man ; I found him m 
 Your company. 
 
 Gabor. We found you in the Oder • 
 Would we had left you there ! 
 
 Stra. I give you thanks, sir. 
 TJlric, you know this man? 
 
 Gabor. No more than you do, 
 If he avouches not my honor. 
 
 Ulric. I 
 Can vouch your courage, and, as far as my 
 Own brief connexion led me, honor. 
 
 Stra. Then, 
 I'm satisfied. 
 
 Gabor. {Ironically.) Right easily, methink 
 What is the spell in his asseveration 
 More than in mine ? 
 
 Stra. I merely said that I 
 Was satisfied — not that you were al)solved.
 
 Scene I.] werner. 31 
 
 If general supjMcion be against you, 
 Is the fiiult mine? 
 
 Gabor. ]My lord, my lord, this is mere cozenage, 
 A vile equivocation : you well know 
 Yo'ir doubts are certainties to all around you — 
 Your looks a voice — your frowns a sentence ; you 
 Are practising your power on me — because 
 You have it ; but beware, you know not whom 
 You strive to tread on. 
 Stra. Tlireat'st thou ? 
 Gabor. Kot so much 
 As you accuse. You hint the basest injury, 
 And I retort it with an open warning. 
 
 &tra. As you have said, 'tis true, I owe you something, 
 For which you seem disposed to pay yourself. 
 Gabor. Not with your gold. 
 Stra. Witli bootless insolence. 
 (To his Attendo.nts and Idcnslcin.) You need not further 
 
 to molest this man, 
 But let him go his way. Ulric, good-morrow 1 
 
 l_£xit Straknheim, Idenslein and Attendants, R. s. S. 
 Gabor. (Folknring.) I'll after him, and — 
 TJlric. (Stopping him.) Not a step. 
 Gabor. Who shall 
 Oppose me ? 
 
 Ulric. Your own reason, with a moment's 
 Thought. 
 
 Gabor. ;Must I bear to be deemed a thief ? If 'twere 
 A bandit of the woods, I could have borne it — 
 There's something oaring in it — but to steal 
 The monies of a slumbering man I — 
 
 Ulric. It seems, then. 
 You are not guilty ? 
 
 Gabor. Do I hear aright ? 
 You too ! 
 
 Ulric. I merely asked a simple question. 
 Gabor. If the judge asked me — I would answer, 
 " No"— 
 To you I answer thtis. [Draws and rushes on him, 
 
 Ulric. (Drawing.) With all my heart 1 
 Jos. Without, there 1 Ha I help ! help 1— Oh, here's 
 murder 1
 
 38 WERNER. [Act II 
 
 [Gahor and Ulric fight. — Gahor is disarmed and thrown 
 into R. corner. 
 
 Re-enter Stralenheim, Idexstein, and Attendants, r. s. e. 
 
 Jos. (l.) (Sinking down.) Oh ! glorious Ileaven 1 
 He's safe 1 
 
 Stra. ( To Josephine.) Who's safe ? 
 
 Jos. (l.) Ay— 
 
 Ulric. (Interrupting her ivilh a stern look, and turning 
 aflerivards to Slralcn/ieivi.) Bolh ! 
 Here's no great harm done. [Jos. retires bach, L, 
 
 Stra. "What hath caused all this ? 
 
 Ulric. You, Baron, I believe ; but a^ the effect 
 Is harmless, let it not disturb you — Gabor ! 
 There is your sword ; and when you bare it next, 
 Let it not be against yonr friends ! 
 
 IPronoimces the last icords slowly and emphatically in a 
 low voice to Gahor. 
 
 Gahor. (Taking sword.) I thank you, 
 Less for ray life tiian for your counsel. 
 
 Sera. ( Very imperiously.) These 
 Brawls must end here. 
 
 Gabor. (Sheathing his sivord.) They shall. You have 
 wronged me, tJh'ic. 
 More with your unkind thoughts than sword ; 
 I could have borne yon noble's 
 Absurd insinuations — 
 
 But I may fit him yet : — you have vanquished me. 
 We may meet by and by, 
 However — but in friendship. [Exit, l. 
 
 Stra. ( Cross>is, c. ) I will brook 
 No more 1 This outrage following up his insults — - 
 Intendant ! take your measures to secure 
 Yon fellow ; I revoke my former lenity. 
 He shall be sent to Frankfort with an escort 
 The instant that the waters have abated. 
 
 Iden. (-R.) Secure him ! he hath got his sword agaiu — 
 And seems to know the use on't ; 'tis his trade 
 Belike: I'm a civilian. 
 
 Stra. Fool ! are not 
 Yon herd of vassals dogging at your heels 
 Enough to seize a dozeu such ? Hence 1 after him I
 
 Scene XL] werner, 39 
 
 Ulric. Baron, I do beseech you ! 
 Strn. I must l)c 
 Obeyed! No words ! [Strahnhdm and Ulric retire up. 
 
 Ide.n. Well, if it must be so — 
 March vassals ! I'm your leader — and will bring 
 Tlie rear up : a wise general never should 
 Expose his precious life — on which all rests. 
 I like that ariicle of war. 
 
 \_ETit. Idcnstcin awl Atkndants, h. 
 Stra. (Looking cautiously round, sees Josephine, n.) 
 Come hither, 
 
 Ulric: — what does that woman here? Oh 1 now 
 I recognize her, 'tis the stranger's wife 
 Whom they name "Werner." 
 Ulric. 'Tis his name, 
 Stra. Indeed 1 
 Is not your husband visible, fair dame ? — 
 Jos. Who seeks him ? 
 
 Stra. (Half aside.) No one — for the present : but 
 I fain would parley, Ulric, with yourself 
 Alone. 
 
 Ulric. I will retire with you. 
 J^s. (r.) Not so. 
 You are the latest stranger, and command 
 All places here. 
 
 (Aside to Ulric as she goes out.) Oh ! Ulric, have a care — 
 Remember what depends on a rash word ! 
 
 Ulric. Fear not ! — [Exit Joicphim, u 
 
 Stra. Ulric, I think that I may trust you ? 
 You saved my life — and acts like these beget 
 Unbounded confidence. 
 Ulric. Say on. 
 Stra. Tliis " Werner"— 
 With the false name and habit, 
 If he be the man I deem, 
 Must be made secure ere twelve hours further. 
 Ulric. And what have I to do with this ? 
 Stra. 1 have sent 
 To Frankfort, to the governor, my friend — • 
 (I have the authority to do so by 
 An order of the house of Brandenburgh,) 
 For a fit escort — but this cursed flood
 
 4d WERKER. [Act II. 
 
 Bars all access ; and may do so for some hours. 
 
 Ulric. It is abating. 
 
 Stra That is well. 
 
 Ulric. But how 
 Am I concerned ? 
 
 Stra. As one who did so much 
 For me, you cannot be indifferent to 
 Tliat wliicli is of more import to me than 
 The life you rescued — keep your eye on him ! 
 The man avoids me, knows that I now know him — 
 Watch him ! — as you would watch the wild boar when 
 He makes against you iu the hunter's gap — 
 Like him, he must be speared. 
 
 Ulric. Why so ? 
 
 Stra. lie stands 
 Between me and a brave inheritance I 
 Oh ! could you see it ! But you shall 
 
 Ulric. I hope so. 
 
 Stra. It is the richest of the rich Bohemia I 
 Unscathed by scorching war. 
 Ay — could you see it, you would say so — but. 
 As I have said, you shall. 
 
 Ulric. I accept the omen. 
 
 Stra. Then claim a recompense from it and me. 
 
 Ulric. And this sole, sick, and miserable wretch — 
 This way-worn stranger — stands between you and 
 This Paradise ? — (Aside.) As Adam did between 
 The devil and his. — 
 
 Stra. He doth. 
 
 Ulric. Hath he no right ? 
 
 Stra. Right ! none ! A disinherited prodigal, 
 Who for these twenty years disgraced his liueage 
 In all his acts — but chiefly by his marriage. 
 
 Ulric They are childless, then? 
 
 Stra. There is or was a bastard. 
 Whom the old man — the graudsire (as old Age 
 Is ever doting) took to warm his bosom. 
 As it went chilly downward to the grave : 
 Bnt the imp stniids not in my path — he has fled, 
 Is'o one knows whither ; and, if he had not, 
 His claims alone were too contemptible 
 To stand. — Why do you smile?
 
 SCE.VE II.] WERNER. 41 
 
 Ulric. At j'our vain fears : 
 A poor man almost in his grasp — a child 
 OC doubtful birth — can startle a grandee I 
 
 Stra. All's to be fear'd where all's to be gain'd. 
 
 Vlric. True ; and ought done to save or to obtain it. 
 
 Slra. You have harp'd the very string next to n. ^ heart I 
 I may depend upon you ? 
 
 Ulric. 'Twere too late 
 To doubt it. 
 
 *S7?-rt. Let no foolish pity shake 
 Your bosom, (Tor the appearance of the man 
 Is pitiful j — 
 
 Ue sure you'll keep an eye on this man. 
 And let me know his slightest movement towards 
 Concealment or escape ! 
 
 Ulrc. You may be sure 
 You yourself could not watch him more than I 
 Will be his sentinel. 
 
 Slra. By this you make me 
 Yours and forever. 
 
 Ulric. Such is in my intention. [^Exeunt, B 
 
 END OP ACT IL 
 
 ACT III. 
 
 Scene T. — A Hull in the same Palace, from whence the Secret 
 Passage leads. 
 
 Enter Werner, d. f., followed by Gabor in great agitation, 
 
 Gabor. {Looking anxiously to D. fJ Sir, I have told my 
 tale ; will it now please you 
 To give me refuge for a few hours. 
 
 Wer. How 
 Can I, so wretched, give to misery 
 A shelter ? — wanting such myself as much 
 As e'er the haunted deer a covert — 
 
 Gabor. Or
 
 42 WERNER. [Act III. 
 
 The wounded lion his cool cave. Methinks 
 You rather look like one would turn at bay, 
 And rip the hunter's entrails 
 
 IVer. Ah I 
 
 Gabor. I care not 
 If it be so, being much disposed to do 
 The same myself ; but will you shelter me ? 
 I am oppress'd like you — and poor like you — 
 Dis<rraced — 
 
 Wer. (Abruptly.) Who told you that I was digraced ? 
 
 Gabor. No one ; nor did I say you were so : with 
 Your poverty my likeness ended ; but 
 I said I was so — and would add, with truth, 
 As undeservedly as you. 
 
 Wer. Again 
 As I! 
 
 Gabor. Or any other honest man. 
 "What the devil would you have ? You don't believe me 
 Guilty of this base theft ? 
 
 Wer. No, no, I cannot. 
 
 Qabor. It is but a night's lodging which I crave ; 
 To morrow I will try the waters, 
 Trusting that they have abated. 
 
 Wer. Abated ? Is there hope of that ? 
 
 Gabor. There was 
 At noontide. 
 
 Wer. Then we may be safe. 
 
 Gabor. Are you 
 In peril ? 
 
 Wer. Poverty is ever so. 
 
 Gabor. That I know by long practice. 
 (A noise, heard without ) But hark ! they come ! 
 
 \_Rvjshes ii,p and bolls door, 
 
 Wer. Who come ? 
 
 Gabor. The iuteudant and his man hounds after me : 
 I'd face them — but it were in vain to expect 
 Justice at hands like theirs. Where shall I go ? 
 But show me any place. I do assure you, 
 If there be faith in man, I am most guiltless. Think, oh 1 
 Think if it were your own case I 
 
 Wer. Oh, Heaven 1 
 Thy hell is not hereafter!
 
 Scene I.] tverner. 43 
 
 Gahor. I see you're moved, and it shows well in you : 
 I may live to requite it. 
 
 Wer. Are you not 
 A spy of Stralenheim's ? 
 
 Galor. I am his deadliest foo 
 
 Wer. You ? 
 
 Gahor. After such 
 A treatment for the service which in part 
 I rendered him — I am his enemy. 
 
 Idenstein. (Wilhout.) Search every corner I 
 
 Gahor. Hark ! they near me. JNIan — man I 
 If you are not his friend you will assist me. 
 
 Wer. I will. 
 
 Gahor. But how ? 
 
 Ifer. There is a secret spring ; 
 Remember, I discovered it by chance, 
 And used it but for safety, 
 It leads through winding walls, to — to 
 I know not whither you must not advance ! 
 Give me your word. 
 
 Gahor. It is unnecessary : 
 How should I make my way in darkness, 
 
 Wer. Yes, but who knows to what place it may lead ? 
 /know not — fmark you ; — but who knows it might not 
 Lead even into the chambers of your foe ? 
 You must not advance 
 Beyond the two first windings ; if you do 
 (Albeit I never pass'd them,) I'll not answer 
 For what yon may be led to. 
 
 Gnhor. But I will. 
 A thousand thanks ! 
 
 Idenstein. ( Without, d.f.) He must be in the hall ! Follow ! 
 follow ! 
 
 Wer. (Opening the door.) You'll find the spring more 
 obvious 
 On the other side ; and, when you would return, 
 It yields to the least touch. 
 
 Gahor. (Rushes in.) Thanks ! thanks 1 — farewell ! 
 
 [ Goes in hy the secret paneL 
 
 Wer. What have I done ? Alas ! what had I done 
 Before to make this fearful ? Let it be 
 Still some atonement that I save the man,
 
 44 WERNER. [Act III. 
 
 "Whose RacriGce have saved perhaps my own — 
 They come ! to seek elsewhere what is before them I 
 
 [ Unbolls D. F. 
 
 Eentcr Idenstein and Attendants. , 
 
 Lien. Here we have the robber — here he is— 
 Is he not here ? lie must have vanished then 1 
 He's gone, however. 
 
 Wer. Whom do you seek ? 
 
 Idcn. A villain ! 
 
 Wcr. Why need you come so far, then? 
 
 Men. In tlie search 
 Of him who robbed the baron. 
 We traced him 
 
 Up to this hall : are you accomplices ? 
 It may be I have a question or two for yourself 
 Hereafter ; but we must continue now 
 Our search for t'other. 
 
 Wer. You had best begin 
 Your inquisition now ; I may not be 
 So patient always. 
 
 Iden. I should like to know, 
 In good sooth, if you really are the man 
 That Stralenheim's in quest of ? 
 
 Wer. Insolent 1 
 Said you not that he was not here? 
 
 Iden. Yes, one ; 
 But there's another whom he tracks more keenly, 
 Bustle, my boys ! we are at fault. 
 
 \_Exit Idenstein and attendants, D. r, 
 
 Wer. In what 
 A maze hath my dim destiny involved me 1 
 And one base sin hath done me less ill than 
 The leaving undone one far greater. Down, 
 Thou busy devil rising in my heart ! 
 Thou art too late ! I'll nought to do with blood. 
 
 Enter Ulric, e. s. e. — He looks cautiously round. 
 
 Ulric. I sought you, father 
 Wer. Is't not dangerous ? 
 Ulric. No ; Stralenheim is ignorant of all 
 Or any of the ties between us : more —
 
 SCEXE I.] WF.RXER. 45 
 
 lie sends me licro a spy upon your actious, 
 Deeming me wliolly liis 
 
 Wer. 1 cainiot think it : 
 'Tis but a snare lie winds about us both, 
 To swoop tlie son and sire at once. 
 
 Ulric. I cannot 
 Pause in each petty fear ; 
 Nets are for tlirushes, eagles are not caught so ; 
 We'll overtly, or rend them. 
 
 Wer. Show me how. 
 
 Ulric. Can you not guess ? 
 
 Wer. 1 cannot. 
 
 Ulric. (Pauses, points to Baron^s room looks intently at 
 Werner, then speaks.) That is strange ! 
 Came the thought ne'er into your mind last mght 7 
 
 Wer. I understand you not. 
 
 Ulric. Then we shall never 
 More understand each other. But if I err not, 
 I see the subject no^v more clearly, and 
 Our general situation iu its bearings, 
 The waters are abating ; a few hours 
 Will bring his summoned myrmidons from Frankfort, 
 When you will be a prisoner, perhaps worse, 
 And I an outcast, basterdized by practice 
 Of this same baron to make way for him. 
 
 Wer. And all I thought to escape, — rescuing my wife 
 and child 
 By means ot this accursed gold, but now 
 I dare not use it, show it, scarce look on it. 
 
 Ulric. You must not use it, at least, now ; but take 
 This ring. ] He gives Werner a jewel. 
 
 Wer. A gem ! it was my father's 1 
 
 Ulric. And 
 As such is now your own. With this you must 
 Bribe the Intendant for his i)ld caleche 
 And horses to pursue your route at sunrise 
 Together with my mother. 
 
 Wer. And what becomes of you 1 
 My only oue, can I leave you 1 
 So lately found, in peril, too ? 
 
 Ulric. . Fear nithin'r I
 
 46 VTERNER. [Act III. 
 
 The only fonr were, if \vc fled toj^ether ; 
 I'll wait a day or two wit!i Stralciiheim ; 
 To lull all doubts and then rtjoiu my father. 
 "When you gain 
 
 A few hours' start, tlic difiiculties will be 
 The 8ame to your pursuers. Once beyond 
 The frontier, and you're safe. 
 
 Wer. JSIy noble boy ! 
 "What were my lile if purchased 
 By your loss ? 
 
 Ul/ic. Hush ! hush ! no transports : we'll indulgo in 
 them 
 In Casile Siegendorf ! Display no gold : 
 Show Jdenstein the gem : it will answer thus 
 A doable purpose. Stralenheim lost gold — 
 Ho jewel : therefore it could not be his. 
 
 Wer. ]My boy ! 
 ]\ry friend — my only child, and sole preserver I 
 Oh, do not hate me 1 
 
 Ulnc. Hate my father ? 
 
 We/: Ay, 
 My father hated me. Why not ray son ? 
 
 Ulric. Your father knew you not as I do 
 
 Wer. Scorpions 
 Are m thy wonls ! Thou knew me ? in this guise 
 Thou canst not know me ; 1 am not myself, 
 Yet (hate me not ), I will be soon. 
 
 Ulnc. I'll wail ! But let us talk 
 Of this no more. Or if it must be ever, 
 
 Not now. 
 All we have now to think of, is to baffle 
 Him. Seek Jdenstein. Farewell ! [Going, stojps» 
 
 Would Straleulieim's appearance in Bohemia 
 Disturb your right, or mine, if once we were 
 Admitted lo our lands? 
 
 Wer. Assurely, 
 Situate as we are now, although the first 
 Possessors might, as usual, pi'ove the strongest 
 Especially the next in blood, 
 
 Ulric. Blood ! 'tis 
 A word of many meanings ; in the veins 
 And out of them, it is a different thing —
 
 SCENR L] WERNEB. 41 
 
 Wer. I do not apprehend yon. 
 
 Ulnc. Tliat may be — 
 And should, ])er]ia|)s, — and yet — but get yc ready ; 
 You and my mother must away to-niglit. 
 Here comes the Iiitendaut : sound him with the gem. 
 Farewell ! I scarce have time, but yet your hand, 
 My father !— 
 
 Wer. Let me embrace thee I 
 
 Ulric. "We may be observed : 
 Keep off from me as from your foe I 
 llereis the Intcudant. 
 
 £nte)- Idenstein, d. p. 
 
 Master Idenstein, 
 
 How fare you in your purpose? Have you caught 
 
 The rogue ? 
 
 Idm. No, faith ! 
 
 Ulric. Well there are plenty more : 
 Vou may have better luck another chase 
 Where is the baron ? 
 
 Iden. H left him .coinp: to his chamber: 
 And, now I think on't, asking after you 
 With a nobly-born impatience. 
 
 Ulric. Your great men 
 ^lust be answered on the instant, so I must take leavf . 
 Intendant, 
 Your servant ! — Werner, — (To ll^r. slighlhj) — if that be 
 
 your name, 
 Yonrs. [Ezil, Ulric, d. f. 
 
 Ideji. A well-spoken, pretty-faced young man I 
 And prettily behaved ! He knows his station : 
 You see, sir, how he gave to each his due 
 Precedence ? 
 
 Wer. I perceived it and applaud 
 His just discernment, and your own. 
 
 Iden. That's well — 
 That's very well. You also know your place, too, 
 And yet I don't know that I know your place. 
 
 Wer. (Showing the ring.) VVould this assist your 
 knowledge ? 
 
 Iden, How ?— What ?— Eh 1 
 A jewel !
 
 48 WERNER [Act III. 
 
 Wer. 'Tis your own on one condition. 
 
 Iden. iSline ! — Name it ! 
 
 Wir. Tliat hereafter you permit me 
 At thrice its vahie to redeem it ; 'tis 
 A family ring. 
 
 Idcn. A family I yours ! a gem ! 
 I'm breathless 1 
 
 Wer. Yon must also furnish me 
 An hour ere daybreak with all means to quit 
 This place. 
 
 Idm. But is it real ? let me look on it : 
 Diamofid, my all that's glorious ! 
 
 Wer. Come, I'll trust you : 
 I have important reasons 
 lor wishing to continue privily 
 My journey hence. 
 
 Iden. So theii you are the man 
 Whom Stralenheim's in quest of ? 
 
 Wer. No ! 
 
 Iden. Well, well, be you the man or no, 'tis not my bu- 
 siness ; 
 Besides, I never should obtain the half 
 From this proud, niggardly noble : 
 But this ! another look ! 
 
 Wer. Gaze on it freely ; 
 At day-dawn it is yours. 
 
 Idcn. Oh, thou svve^ sparkler ! 
 Thou more than stone of tlie philosopher ! 
 Thou touchstone of Philosophy herself ! 
 Shalt thou be mine ? I am, methinks, already 
 A little king, a lucky alchemist ! — 
 But come, Werner, or what else ? 
 
 Wer. Call me Werner still : 
 You may yet know me by a loftier title. 
 
 Iden. I do believe in thee ! thou shalt be as free 
 As air, despite the waters — Oh, thou jewel 1 
 Thou shalt be furnished, Werner, with such means 
 Of flight, that if thou wert a snail, not birds 
 Should overtake thee. — Let me gaze again 1 
 I have a foster-brother in the mart 
 Of Hamburgh, skilled in precious stones — how many 
 Carats may it weigh 1 — Come, Werner, I will wing thee. 
 
 lExeunt, d. w
 
 Scene II.] . werner. 49 
 
 Enter Stralenheim and Fritz, with a lamp. 
 
 Sh-a. What is the hour ? 
 
 Fritz. Fast making towards midnij^lit, I think, my lord 
 
 Stra. In six hoars, then, the guard will be approachinp:. 
 Call me betimes. 
 Here, take my cloak and sabre, light me to my cham- 
 ber. 
 
 Fritz. I trust to-morrow will restore your lordship to 
 health and spirits. 
 
 <S'/ra. I trust so, too, for I have need of them. 
 To-morrow iinii restore me, for with its dawn 
 The escort comes, and with it confidence 
 And peace. The interval of fate is all 
 That's left to Siegendorf. The key that locks 
 His dvngeon grate on him, opens for me 
 The portals of a palace. Poor wretch ! 
 Lead on. Exeunt, r. s. e. 
 
 Scene 11.-^— The Stzrct Passage. 
 Gabor discovered. 
 
 Gahor. Four- 
 Five — six hours have I counted, like the guard 
 Of outposts on the never-merry clock : 
 I'm cold — 
 
 I'm dark — I've blown my fingers — numbered o'er 
 And o'er my steps — and knocked my head against 
 Some fifty buttresses — and roused the rats 
 And bats in general insurrection, till 
 Their cursed pattering feet and whirring wings 
 Leave me scarce hearing for another sound. 
 A light ! It is at a distance, fif I can 
 Measure in darkness distance :) but it blinks 
 As through a crevice or a key-hole, in 
 The inhabited direction ; I must on, 
 Nevertheless from curiosity. 
 Pray heaven it lead me 
 
 To nothing that may tempt me ! Else — heaven aid me 
 To obtain, or to escape it 1 Shining still ! 
 Were it the star of Lucifer himself, 
 Or he himself girt with its beams, I could
 
 60 WERNER. [Act III, 
 
 Contain no longer. Softly ! Let me pause. 
 
 Sii|)|)0se it leads 
 
 Into some {greater danger tlian tliat which 
 
 I have escaped — no matter, — I will on, 
 
 And be it where it may — I have my dagger, 
 
 AVliich may protect me at a pincli. — Burn still, 
 
 Tlion little light ! Thou art my ignis futims I 
 
 So ! so ! 
 
 He hears my invocation, add fails not. 
 
 Ila I 'tis gone ! — 
 
 Ko, 'lis there ! 'tis there again. [Exil, r. 
 
 Scene III. — A Garden. — Palace seen on L. — A practicable 
 Terrace projecting from it, l. 3(Z e. — River and distant 
 country. 
 
 Enter Werner, r. s. e. 
 
 Wcr. I could not sleep and now the hour's at hand ; 
 All's ready. Idenstein has kept his word : 
 And, for the last time, I 
 
 Look on those horrible walls. Oh I never, neve 
 Shall I forget them. Here I came most poor, 
 But not dishonored : and I leave them with 
 A stain, — if not upon my name, yet in 
 I^Iy heart ! A never-dying canker-worm, 
 Which all the coming splendor of the lands. 
 And all rights and sovereignty of Siegendorf, 
 Can scarcely lull a moment : 
 The madness of misery led to this 
 Base infamy ; repentance must retrieve it : 
 Yet he would grasp all of mine ; 
 Lands, freedom, life : — he sleeps ! as soundly, 
 Perhaps, as infancy. \_Noise within. 
 
 Hark! what noise is that ? Again! 
 The branches shake ; and some loose stones have fallen 
 From yonder terrace. 
 
 UiP.ic hups doxcn from the Terrace, l 3^ E, 
 
 TTlric 1 ever welcome I 
 
 Thrice welcome now ! this filial— 
 
 TJlric. Stop ! lu'fore 
 We approach, tell me —
 
 SCKNE II.] WERNEB. fil 
 
 Wer. Whv look you so ? 
 
 Ulric. Bo I 
 Behold ray father, or — 
 
 Wer. What ? 
 
 Ulric. An assassin ? 
 Keply, sir, as 
 You prize your life, or mine ! 
 
 iVer. To what must I 
 Answer ? 
 
 Ulric. Are you or are yon not the assassin 
 Of Stralenheira ? 
 
 Wer. What mean yon ? 
 
 Ulric. Did you not t/tis night (as tlie night before) 
 Retrace the secret passage ? Did you not 
 Again revisit Straleuheim's chamber ? and — 
 
 [ Uli'ic pauses. 
 
 Wer. Proceed. 
 
 Ulric. Died he not by your hand ? 
 
 Wer. Great Heaven ! 
 
 Ulric. You are innocent, then ! my father's innocent ! 
 Embrace me ! Yes, — your tone — your look — yes, yes — 
 Yet say so ! 
 
 Wer. If e'er, in heart or mind, 
 Conceived deliberately such a thought, 
 May Heaven be sliut for ever from my hopes, 
 As from mine eyes ! 
 
 Ulric. But Stralenheim is dead. 
 
 Wer. 'Tis horrible 1 
 
 Ulrc. No bolt 
 Is forced ; no violence can be detected, 
 Save on his body. Part of his own household 
 Have been alarmed ; but as the Intendaut is 
 Absent, I took upon myself the care 
 Of mustering the police. His chamber has, 
 Past doubt, been entered secretly. Excuse me, 
 If nature — 
 
 Wer. Oh, my boy 1 what unknown woe 
 Of dark fatality, like clouds, are gathering 
 Above our house. Oh, Stralenheim ! now I feel I ncTcr 
 shall escape you. 
 
 Ulric. My father 1 I acquit you.
 
 52 WEKNER. [Act III. 
 
 But will the world do so ? Will even the judge, 
 If — but you must away this instant. 
 
 We,: Ko ! 
 I'll face it. Who shall dare suspect me ? 
 
 JJlric. Yet 
 You had no guests — no visitors — no life 
 Breathing around you, save my mother's ? 
 
 iVer. Ah ! 
 The Hungarian ! 
 
 Ulric. He is gone ! he disappeared 
 Ere sunset. 
 
 Wer No ; I hid him in that very 
 Concealed and fatal gallery. 
 
 Uliic. There. I'll find him. [ JJlric is going up, l. 
 
 Wtr. It is too late : he had left the palace ere 
 I quitted it. I found the secret panel 
 Open ; and the doors which led from that hall 
 Which masks it : I but thought he had snatched the silent 
 And favorable moment to escape 
 The myrmidons of Idenstein. 
 
 Ulric. You re-closed 
 The panel ? 
 
 Wer. Yes. 
 
 Ulric. You are sure you dosed it ? 
 
 Wer. Certain. 
 
 Ulric. That's well : but had better if 
 You ne'er had shelter given to this man. 
 
 Wer. Could I shun it ? 
 A man pursued by my chief foe ; disgraced 
 For my own crime ; a victim to my safety, 
 Imploring a few hours' concealment from 
 The very wretch who was the cause he needed 
 Such refuge. Had he been a wolf I could not 
 Have, in such circumstances, thrust him forth. 
 
 Ulric. And like the wolf he hath repaid you. But 
 It is too late to ponder this : you must 
 Set out ere dawn. Idenstein 
 Will, for his own sake, and his jewel's, hold 
 His peace — he also is a partner, in 
 Your flight — moreover — 
 
 Wer. i^'ly 1 and leave my name
 
 SCEKE II.] WERNER. 69 
 
 Linked with the Hungarian's, or preferred as poorest, 
 To bear the brand of bloodshed ? 
 
 Vlric Pshaw ! leave anything 
 Except our fathers' sovreiguty and castles. 
 What ruitnel You leave no nuvu, since that you bear 
 Is feigned. 
 
 Wer. Most true ; but still I would not have it 
 Engraved in crimson in men's memories ; 
 Besides, the search — 
 
 Ulric. I will provide against 
 Aught that can touch you. Jso one knows you here 
 As heir of Siegendorf. 
 Sti'alenheim, although noble is unheeded 
 Hire, save as such — without lands, influence, 
 Save what hath perished with him ; 
 If 1 discover 
 
 The assassin, 'twill be well — if not, believe me 
 Kone else will. 
 
 Wer. Oh ! could the power and wealth 
 Of Siegendorf recall him from the grave I 
 
 Ulric. And if it could? but this is worse than idlw. 
 In two short hours the military guard 
 Must come from t'rankfort, perhaps, even while we speak, 
 The bloodhounds gaze upon those scenes, 
 
 Wer. My son ! 
 
 Vlric. Hence 1 hence 1 I must not hear your answer — 
 look ! 
 The stars are almost faded, and the gray 
 Begins to grizzle the black hair of night. 
 You shall not answer. — Pardon me, that I 
 Am peremptory, 'tis your son that speaks, 
 Your long-lost, late-found son. — Let's call my mother 1 
 Softly and swiftly step, and leave the rest 
 To me. 
 
 We'll meet in Castle Siegendorf — once more 
 Our banners shall be glorious ! Think of that 
 Alone, and leave all the other thoughts to me. 
 Hence ! 
 
 And may your age be happy ! — I will kiss 
 My mother once more, then Heaven's speed be with you.
 
 64 WERNER. [Act IV. 
 
 Wer. Tliis connspl's safe — but is not honorable? 
 Ulric. To suve a father is a child's chief houor. 
 
 lExeunt. 
 
 END OF ACT III. 
 
 A CT IT, 
 
 Scene I. — A Gothic Hall in the Castle of Siegendorf, near 
 I^rague. 
 
 Enter Eric and Henrick, Retainers of the Count. 
 
 Eric. So better times are come at last : to these 
 Old walls, new masters aud high wassail, both 
 A loug desideratum. 
 
 Hea. Meihiuks the old Count Siegendorf maintained 
 His feudal hospitality as high 
 As e'er another priuce of the empire. 
 
 Eric. Why, 
 For the mere cup and trencher, we, no doubt, 
 Fared passing well. 
 
 Hen. The old count loved not 
 The roar of revel : are you sure this does ? 
 
 Eric. As you hath been courteous as he's bounteous, 
 And we all love him 
 
 Hen. His reign is as yet 
 Hardly a year o'erpast its honeymoon, 
 And the lirst year of sovereigns is bridal ; 
 Anon we shall perceive his real sway 
 Aud moods of mind. 
 
 Enc Why doubt the present I 
 Then bis brave son, Count Ulric — there's a knight I 
 Pity the wars are o'er ! 
 
 Hen. If war be long in coming, he is of that kind 
 Will make it for himself, if he hath not 
 Already done as much. 
 
 Eric. What do you mean ? 
 
 Hen. You can't deny his train of followers 
 Are such a sort of knaves as — (Fauses.) 
 
 Eric. What? 
 
 Hen. The wars (yoa love so much) leave living.
 
 Score T.l 
 
 ErU. E'zt C'-.rnA 
 What has all iui^ to do with Umt 
 
 Htm. Ton aa j he's food of war, 
 Wbj isakes he it not on those macniden? 
 
 £^K^ Ulbic aa<2 Bcoous, 
 
 Good iDOfTov, Coont ! 
 
 rZ/ic Good morrow, wortfaj Hesmdc Eri^ k 
 AJI readj for tJie diaae ? 
 
 fric Yes, mj kxd, tfae dogs are ordered ; 
 What coarser will joa please to BMnnt ? 
 
 Writ The dan, 
 Wabtein. 
 
 £ric He diall be stndt cqi ariMB &i E : ^ :^'^i j 
 Of joor immediate r^anera s&all 
 Escort yon? 
 
 l?Zri£L I leaTe tiiai to Weabns^ ocr 
 Master of the bnse. [JEbu E-rvL. 
 
 Rodolpht 
 
 Bod^ Mjkxd! 
 
 Ulric. The news 
 Is avkwazd firon the— f£^da^fMa2« te SaaridL) 
 How BOW, Hemid:, wh j 
 Ixster joo here ? 
 
 Ba. For yon* eaBOBBid^ Bf lord. 
 
 -; rPcBiz^J Go toaij&theraadpreaBBiotf dalf; 
 A 1 ¥ he worid n^ with se before 
 
 I lEat^ Semritk, l 
 
 . -i^r^^ hare had a cheek 
 
 UpuB ifrc : ' ?f Fmeaaia : 
 
 To excvse : : : : tbe eeotk Jon father. 
 
 CEric. J ::ed itate of 
 
 Im W^fii S - ~ ^ 13 i^r,TF=r 

 
 5(5 WERNER. [Act IV. 
 
 To oar force, with you and Wolffe, as herald of 
 My coming, though I could but spare them ill 
 Until this marriage, and its feasts and fooleries, 
 Are rung out with its peal of nuptial nonsense. 
 
 Rodolph. I thought you loved the lady Ida ? 
 
 TJlric. Why, 
 I do so — but I have not the time to pause 
 Upon these gewgaws of the heart. {Crosses, l.) Great 
 
 things 
 We have to do ere long. Speed ! speed ! good Rodolph. 
 
 Rodolph. On my return, however, I shall find 
 The Baroness Ida lost in Countess Siegendorf. 
 
 Ulric. Perhaps. 
 
 Rodolph. Adieu 1 
 
 Ulric. Yet hold — we had better keep together 
 Until the chase begins ; then draw thou off, 
 And do as I have said. 
 
 Rodolph, Ah ! here's the lady Ida. 
 
 Enter Ida Stkalenheim, t. 
 
 Ulric. You are early, my sweet cousin. 
 
 Ida. Not too early. 
 Dear Ulric, if I do not interrupt you. 
 Why do you call me " Cousin ?" 
 
 Ulric. (Smiling.) Are we not so ? 
 
 Ida. Yes ; but I do not like the name ; methinks, 
 It sounds so cold. 
 
 Ulric. Nay, then, I'll call you sister. 
 
 Ida. 1 like that name still worse — would we had ne'er 
 Been aught of kindred ! 
 
 Ulric. (Gloomily.) Would we never had ! 
 
 Ida. Oh, heaven ! and can you wish thai ? 
 
 UJric. Dearest Ida 1 
 Did I not echo your own wish ? 
 
 Ida. Ay — call me Ida, 
 Your Ida, for I would be yours, none else's — 
 Indeed, I have none else left, since my poor father — 
 
 [ She pauses. 
 
 They say he died of fever. 
 
 Ulric. Say ! 
 It was so 
 
 Ida. I sometimes dream otherwise ;—
 
 Scene I.] wernbr. 61 
 
 See him as I see you. 
 
 Ulric. Where? 
 
 Ida. In my dreams, Ulric. I see him lie, 
 Pale, bleeding, and a man with a raised knife 
 Beside him. Is it not fearful to wake from dreams like 
 this? 
 
 Ulric. (Agitatedly.) It is ! — it is 1 
 
 Ida. (Looking at him.) You are not well, dear Ulric 1 
 
 Ulric. Not well ? 
 
 Ida. The signs of health are fading from your cheek. 
 
 Ulric. (Agiiatedly.) Ida, this is mere childishness. 
 
 \_Bugk sounds. K. 
 
 Rodolph. Hark, my lord, the bugle 1 
 
 Ida. (Fea'ishly, to Rodoljph.) Why need you tell him 
 that ? 
 Can he not hear it without your echo ? 
 
 Rodoljph. Pardon me, fair baroness ! 
 
 Ida. I will not pardon you, unless you earn it 
 By aiding me in my dissuasion of 
 Count Ulric from the chase to-day. 
 Come, dear Ulric ! yield to me 
 In this, for this one day ; the day looks heavy, 
 And you are turned so pale and ill. 
 
 Ulric. You jest. 
 
 Ida. Indeed I do not ; — ask of Rodolph. 
 
 Rodolph. Truly, 
 My lord, within this quarter of an hour 
 You have changed more than I e'er saw you change 
 In years. 
 
 Ulric. 'Tis nothing ; but if 'twere, the air 
 Would soon restore me. I'm the true cameleon, 
 And live but on the atmosphere ; your feasts 
 In castle halls, and social banquets, nurse not 
 My spirit — I'm a forester and breather 
 Of the steep mountain tops, where I love all 
 The eagle loves. 
 
 Unler Werner as Count Siegendorf, attended. 
 My father, I salute you, and it grieves me 
 With such brief greeting. — You have heard our bugle : 
 The vassals wait. 
 
 Sieg. So let them. — You forget
 
 ^ -WERNER. [Act IV. 
 
 The sacred festival in Prague for peace restored. 
 Your place to-day is in the marshalled ranks of all our 
 country's nobles. 
 
 Vine. You, count, 
 Will well supply the place of both — I am not 
 A lover of these pageantries. 
 
 Sieg. 'So, Ulric : 
 It were not well that you alone of all 
 Our young nobilit}' — 
 
 Ida. And far the noblest 
 In aspect and demeanor. 
 
 Sieg. (To Id a.^ Crosses to her.) True, dear child, 
 Thougli somewhat frankly said for a fair damsel. — 
 But, Ulric, recollect too our position, 
 So lately re-instated in our honors. 
 Believe me, 'twould be marked in any house, 
 But most in ours, that oiie should be found wanting 
 At such a time and place. Besides, the Heaven 
 Which gave us back our own, in the same moment 
 It spread its peace o'er all, hath double claims 
 On us for thansgiving ; first, for our country. 
 And next, that we are here to share its blessings. 
 
 Ulric. (Aside.) Devout, too ! — Well, sir, I obey at once. 
 
 [To lienridc. 
 Henrick, dismiss the train without ! [Exit Henrick, l. 
 
 Sieg. Ida, 
 The countess waits you in her chamber. She complains 
 That you are a sad truant to your music. 
 
 Ida. (Crosses, l.) Then, good morrow, my kind kins- 
 men ! 
 Ulric, you'll come and hear me ? 
 
 Ulric. By-and-bye. 
 
 Ida. But come quickly ; 
 Your mother will be impatient till she sees you. 
 
 [Exit Ida. 
 
 Sieg. Ulric, I wish to speak with you alone. 
 
 Ulric. My time's your vassal. 
 (Aside to Rodolpk. ) Rodolph, hence I and do 
 As I directed ; and by his best speed 
 And readiest means let Rosenberg reply. 
 
 Rodolpk. Count Siegendorf, 
 I take my leave. [Eaii, b.
 
 Scene L] werxer. 59 
 
 Sieg. TJlric, this man, who has jnst departed, is 
 One of those strange conipauious, whom I fuiii 
 Would reason witli you on. 
 
 Ulric. My lord, he is 
 Noble by birth, of one of the first houses 
 In Saxony. 
 
 Sieg. I talk not of his birth, 
 But of his bearing. Men speak lightly of him. 
 
 Ulric. So they will do of most men. 
 
 Sieg. If I must be plain. 
 The world speaks more than lightly of this Rodolph ; 
 They say he is leagued with the " black bauds" who still 
 Ravage the frontier. 
 
 Uliic. And will you believe 
 The world ? 
 
 Sieg. In this case — yes. 
 
 Ulric. In any case, 
 I thought you knew it better than to take 
 An accusation for a sentence. 
 
 Sieg. Son 1 
 I understand you : you refer to — but 
 My destiny has so involved about me 
 Her spider web, that I can only flutter 
 Like the poor fly, but break it not. Take heed, 
 Ulric: you have seen to what the passions led me ; 
 Twenty long years of misery and famine 
 Quenched them not — twenty thousand more, perchance, 
 Heieafter, for even here in moments which 
 Might date for years, did anguish make the dial,) 
 May not obliterate or expiate 
 The madness and dishonor of an instant. 
 Ulric, be warned by a father ! — I was not 
 By mine, and you behold me ! — 
 
 Ulric. I behold 
 The prosperous and beloved Siegendorf. 
 Lord of a prince's appanage, and honored 
 By those he rules, and those he ranks with. 
 
 Sieg. Ah 1 
 Why wilt thou call me prosperous, while I fear 
 For thee ! Beloved, when thou lovest me not ! 
 All hearts but one may beat in kindness for me— 
 But if my son's is cold 1 —
 
 60 WERXER. [Act IV. 
 
 Uhic. Who dare say that ? 
 
 ^Irg. None else l)iit I, who see \t—fed it — keener 
 Than would your adversary, who dared say so, 
 Your sabre in his heart ! 
 
 Let's chan<j:e t!ie theme. I wish you to consider 
 That these young violent nobles of high name, 
 But dark deeds, (ay, the darkest, if all rumor 
 Reports be true,) with whom thou consortest 
 Will lead thee— 
 
 Ulric. (Impalicntly.) I'll be led by no man. 
 
 Sieg. Nor 
 Be leader of such, I would hope : at once 
 To wean thee from the perils of thy youth 
 And iiaughty spirit, I have thought it well 
 That thou sliould'st wed the lady Ida — more, 
 As thou appearest To love her. 
 
 Ulric. I have sail 
 I will obey your orders, were they to 
 Uuite with Hecate — can a son say more ? 
 
 Sieg. He says too much iu saying this. It is not 
 The nature of thine age, nor of thy blood, 
 Kor of thy temperament, to talk so coolly, 
 Or act so carelessly, in that which is 
 The bloom or blight of all men's happiness. 
 Some strong bias, 
 
 Some master-fiend is in thy service to 
 ]\lisrule thee : 
 
 And makes his every thought subservient ; else 
 Thoud'sl say at once, " I love young Ida, and 
 Will wed her," or, "I love her not, and all 
 The powers of earth shall never make me," — So 
 Would I have answered. 
 
 Ulric. Did you not warn me 
 Against your own example ? 
 
 Sieg. Boyish sophist ! 
 In a word, do you love, or love not, Ida ? 
 
 Ulric. What matters it, if I am ready to 
 Obey you iu espousing her? 
 
 Sieg. As far 
 As you feel, nothing — but all life for her. 
 She's young — all beautiful — adores you — ia 
 Endowed with qualities to give happiness,
 
 SCEJTE L] WERNER. 61 
 
 Such as rounds common life into a dream 
 Of something which your poets cannot paint, 
 And (if it were not wisdom to love virtue) 
 For which philosophy ni ght barter wisdom ; 
 And giving so much happiness, deserves 
 A little in return. I would not have her 
 Break her heart for a man who has none to break. 
 She is — 
 
 Ulric. The daughter of dead Stralenheim, your foe : 
 I'll wed her, ne'ertheless ; though, to say truth, 
 Just now I am not violently transported 
 In favor of such unions. 
 
 Sieg. But she loves you. 
 
 VLric. And I love her, and therefore would think 
 twice. 
 
 Sieg. Alas ! Love never did so. 
 But you consent ? 
 
 lUric I did and do. 
 
 Sieg. Then fix the day. 
 
 Vlric. 'Tis usual, 
 And, certes, courteous, to leave that to the lady. 
 
 Sieg. I will engage for her. 
 
 Ulric. So will not I 
 For any woman ; and as what I fix 
 I fain would see unshaken, when she gives 
 Her answer, I'll give mine. 
 
 Sirg. But 'tis your office 
 To woo. 
 
 Ulric. Count, 'tis a marriage of your making, 
 So be it of your wooing ; but to please you, 
 I will now pay my duty to my mother. 
 With whom, you know, the lady Ida is — 
 What would you have ? You have forbid my stirring 
 For manly sports beyond the castle walls, 
 And I obey ; you bid me turn a chamberer, 
 To pick up gloves and fans, and knitting-needles, 
 And list to songs and tunes, and watch for smiles, 
 And smile at pretty prattle, and look into 
 The eyes of mincing girls, as though they were 
 The stars receding early to our wish 
 Upon the dawn of a world-winning battle — 
 What can a son or man do more ? [Exit, Ulric, l.
 
 6^2 WERNER. f Act Y 
 
 Sieg. Too much 1 — 
 Too much of duty and too little love I 
 Doth my fatlier's curse descend 
 Even to my child ? or — oh ! if it should be ! 
 Spirit of Stralenheim, dost thou walk these walls 
 To wither me and mine ? 
 Thy death was not our crime ; 
 And to atone the wrong I did thee, I have 
 Ta'en thy cliild, and cherished her 
 E'en as my own. 
 
 Yet still thou seem'st to haunt me. Still to scare 
 Peace from my thoughts, and slumber from my pillow : 
 Some mysterious power has linked our fate together, 
 And o'er both the grave must close, 
 Ere memory can snap the fatal chain 
 That binds us. [Exit. 
 
 END OF ACT IV. 
 
 ACT V. 
 
 Scene I. — A large and magnificent Gothic Hall in the Castle 
 of Siegendorf, decorated with Trophies, Banners, and Arms 
 of that Fa mill/. 
 
 Enter the Countess Josephine Siegendorf and Ida 
 Stralenheim. 
 
 Jos. Well, Heaven be praised, the show is over I 
 
 Ida. IIow can you say so? Never have I dreamt 
 Of aught so beautiful. Tlie flowers, the boughs, 
 Tiie banners, and the nobles, and the knights, 
 Tlie gems, the lobes, the plumes, the hapi)y faces, 
 And the celestial hymns. 
 
 Which seemed as if they rather came from heaven, 
 Than mounted there. The world 
 At peace 1 and all at peace with one another I 
 Ob, my sweet mother ! \_Emhracing Josephine. 
 
 Jos. My beloved child ! 
 For such, 1 trust, thou shalt be shortly. 
 
 Ida. Oh ! 
 I am so already. Feel how my heart beats I
 
 S;CENE T.] WERNER. 63 
 
 Jos. It (Iocs, my love ; and never may it throb 
 Witli auglit more Ijitter ! 
 
 Ida. Kever shall it do so ! 
 How should it ? What should make us grieve ? I hate 
 To hear of sorrow ; how can we be sad, 
 Who love each other so entirely ? You, 
 The Count, and Ulric, and your daughter, Ida. 
 
 Jos. Poor child ! 
 
 Ida. Do you pity me ? 
 
 Jos. No ; but I envy ! 
 And that in sorrow, not in the world's sense 
 
 Ida. I'll not hear 
 A word against a world which still contains 
 You and my Ulric. Did you ever see 
 Aught like him? How he towered amongst them all I 
 How all eyes followed him ! The flowers fell faster — 
 Rained from each lattice at his feet, methought. 
 Than before all the rest. 
 
 Jos. You will spoil him, little flatterer, 
 If he should liear you. Come, come, 
 Let us retire ; they will be here anon, 
 Expectant of the banquet. 
 
 Ida. Dear mother, I am with you. Exeunt, l. v. e. 
 
 Enter Count Siegexdorf, in full dress, from the solnnnity, and 
 
 LUDWIG, R. U. E. 
 
 Sieg. ( ^its.) Is he not found ? 
 
 L^id. (r.) Strict search is making everywhere ; and if 
 The man be in Prague, be sure he will be found. 
 
 Seig. Where's Ulric ? 
 
 Lud. He rode round the other way 
 With some young nobles ; but he left them soon ; 
 And, if I err not, not a minute since 
 I heard his excellency, with his train, 
 Gallop o'er the west drawbridge. 
 
 Enter Ulric, splendidly dressed, r. u. e. 
 
 Seig. (To Lud wig.) See they cease not 
 Their cjuest of him I have described. 
 
 E.rit Ludicig, R. u. E. 
 Oh ! Ulric, how I have longed for thee ! 
 
 Vlric. Your wish is granted — 
 
 Sieg. {Rising.) I have seen the murderer,
 
 64 WERXER. [Act T, 
 
 TJlric. Wliom ? Where ? 
 
 Skg. Tlie Hungarian who slew Stralenheim. 
 
 Uiric. Yoii dreaiu. 
 
 Sieg. I live ! and, as I live, I saw him — 
 Ileard him ! He dared to utter even my name. 
 
 Uliic. What name ? 
 
 Sicg. Werner ! Hwas mine 1 
 
 Ulric. It must be so 
 No more : forget it. 
 
 Sieg. Never ! never ! all 
 My destinies were woven in that name : 
 It will not be engraved upon my tomb, 
 But it may lead me there. 
 
 Ulric. To the point — the Hungarian ! 
 
 Sieg. Listen : — the church was thronged ; the hymn 
 was raised ; 
 " Te Deuni" pealed from nations, rather than 
 From choirs, in one great cry of " Heaven be praised," 
 For one day's peace, after thrice ten years of war ; 
 I arose. 
 
 With all the nobles, and as I looked down 
 Along the lines of lifted faces, — from 
 Our bannered and escutcheoned gallery, I 
 Saw, like a flash of lightning, (for I saw 
 A moment, and no more,) what struck me sightless 
 To all else — the Hungarian's face ; I grew 
 Sick ; and when I recovered from the mist 
 Wiiich curled about my senses, and again 
 Looked down, I saw him not. The thanksgiving 
 Was over, and we marched back in procession. 
 
 Ulric. You saw him 
 No more, then ? 
 
 Sieg. I looked for this man : 
 But still I saw him not ; but in his stead— 
 Ulric. What in his stead ? 
 Sieg. My eye forever fell 
 P'pon your dancing crest : the loftiest, 
 As on the loftiest and the loveliest head 
 It rose the highest of the stream of plumes, 
 Which overflowed the glittering streets of Prague. 
 Ulric. What's this to the Hungarian ? 
 -Sieg-. Much ; for I
 
 Scene I.] werner, 65 
 
 Had almost then forgot him in my son, 
 
 When just as the artillery ceased, and paused 
 
 The music, and the crowd embraced, in lieu 
 
 Of shouting, I heard in a deep, low voice. 
 
 Distinct, and keener far upon my ear ^ 
 
 Than the late cannon's volume, this word — '" Werner J" 
 
 Ulric. Uttered by — 
 
 Sieg. Him! I turned — and saw — and fell. 
 
 [Brings chair, c. aTid siis. 
 
 Ulric. And wherefore ? Were you seen ? 
 
 Sieg. The officious care 
 Of those around me dragged me from the spot, 
 Seeing my faintness, ignorant of the cause ; 
 You, too, were too remote in the procession 
 (The old nobles being divided from their children) 
 To aid me. 
 
 Ulric. But I'll aid you now. 
 
 Steg. In what? 
 
 Ulric. In searching for this man, or — when he's found, 
 What shall we do with him ? 
 
 Sicg. I know not that. 
 
 Ulric. Then wherefore seek ? 
 
 Sieg. Because I cannot rest 
 Till he is found. His fate, and Stralenheim s, 
 And ours, seem intertwisted ; nor can be 
 Unravelled, till — 
 
 Enter Eric. 
 
 Eric. A stranger, to wait on 
 Your excellency. 
 Sieg. Who? 
 Eric. He gave no name. 
 Sieg. Admit him, ne'ertheless. 
 
 Enter Gabor, preceded by Eric. — Exit Eric, r. u. e. 
 
 Ah I 
 
 Gabor. 'Tis, then, Werner ! 
 
 Si^. (Hmtghlily.) The same you knew, sir, by that 
 
 name ; aud you ? 
 Gabor. (Looking round.) I recognise you both : father 
 and son, 
 It seems. Count, I have heard that you, or yours,
 
 66 WERNER. [Act Y. 
 
 Have lately been in searcli of me : I am here. 
 
 Sieg. 1 have sought you, and have found you : you arc 
 charged, 
 (Your own heart may inform you why,) with such 
 A crime as — ^He jpauses. 
 
 Gabor. Give it utterance, and then 
 I'll meet the consequences. 
 
 Sieg. You shall do so — 
 Unless — 
 
 Gabor. First, who accuses me ? 
 
 Sieg. AH things. 
 If not all men : the universal rumour — 
 My own presence on the spot — the place — the times— 
 And every speck of circumstance unite 
 To fix the blot on you. 
 
 Gabor. And on ?ne only ? 
 Pause ere you answer : Is no other name, 
 Save mine, stained in this business ? 
 
 Sieg. Trifling villain ! 
 Who play'st with thine own guilt 1 Of all that breathe 
 Thou best dost know the innocence of him 
 'Gainst whom thy breath would blow thy bloody slander. 
 But I will talk no further with a wretch. 
 Further than Justice asks. Answer at once, 
 And without quibbling, to my charge. 
 
 Gabor. 'Tis false ! 
 
 Sieg. And how disprove it ? 
 
 Gabor. By 
 The presence of the murderer 
 
 Sieg. Name himl 
 
 Gabor. He 
 May have more names than one. Your lordship had so 
 Once on a time. 
 
 Sieg. If you mean me, I dare 
 Your utmost. 
 
 Gabor. You may do so, and in safety ; 
 I know the assassin. 
 
 Sieg. Where is he ? 
 
 Gabor. (Pointing to Ulric.) Beside you ! 
 
 \_Ulric ruihes forward to attack Gabor ^ Sieg- 
 endorf interposes. 
 
 Sieg. Liar and fiend ! but you shall not be slain ;
 
 Scene I.] wernek. 67 
 
 These walls are mine, and you are safe within them. 
 
 [//e I urns to JJlric 
 Ulric, repel this calumny, as I 
 Will do. I avow, it is a growth so monstrous, 
 I could not deem it earth-born : but be calm ; 
 It will refute itself. But touch him not. 
 
 [ Ulric endeavours to compose himself. 
 Gnbor. Look at him, count, and then hear me. 
 Sieg. (First to Gabor, and then looking to Iric) I hear 
 thee. 
 Great Heaven ! you look — 
 Ulric. IIow ? 
 
 Sieg. As on that dread night 
 When we met in the garden. 
 
 Ulric. {Composes himself.) It is nothing. 
 Gabor. Count, you are bound to hear me. I came hith- 
 . er. 
 Not seeking you, but sought. 
 Sieg. Go on, sir. 
 Gabor. Ere I do so. 
 Allow me to inquire who profited 
 By Stralenheim's death ? Was't I ? — as poor as ever ? 
 And poorer by suspicion on my name, 
 I speak to you. Count Siegendorf, because 
 I know you innocent, and deem you just. 
 But ere I can proceed : — Dare you protect me ? 
 Dare you command me ? 
 
 [ Siegendorf first looks at the Hmigarian and then at Ul- 
 ric, v:ho has unbuckled his sabre, and is drawing lines 
 with it on thejloor — still in its sheath. 
 Ulric. (Looks at his father, and says) — Let the man go 
 
 on 1 
 Gabor. I am unarmed, count — bid your son lay down 
 His sabre. 
 
 Ulnc. (Casts the sabre from him icith contempt.) It — or 
 some 
 Such other weapon, in my hands — spared yours 
 Once. 
 
 Gabor. You spared me for 
 Your own especial purpose — to sustaia 
 An ignominy not my own. 
 Ulric. Proceed :
 
 68 WERNER. [Act V 
 
 The tale is donbtless worthy the relater. 
 
 (To Sugewlnrf.) But is it of my father to hear further? 
 
 Sleg. ( Takes Ul/ic by the hand.) My son ! I know D:y 
 own innocence — and donbt not 
 Of yours — buc I have promised this man patience ; 
 Let him continno. 
 
 Gabor. At Frankfort on the Oder, it was my chance 
 To hear rehated a strange circnmstance 
 In February lust. A martial force, 
 Sent by the state, had, after a strong resistance, 
 Secured a band of desperate men, — banditti, 
 Whom either accident or enterprise 
 Had carried from their usual haunt — the forests 
 Which skirt Bohemia, 
 And placed b<^neath the civil jurisdiction 
 Of the free town of Frankfort. 
 
 jS'ifo-. And what is this to Ulric ? 
 
 Gabor. Amongst them there was said to be one man 
 Of wonderful endowments : birth and fortune, 
 Youth, strength, and beauty, almost superhuman, 
 And courage as unrivalled. 
 
 TJlric. (Smiling) The tale sounds well. 
 
 Gabor. And may sound better. 
 My soul was rousd with various feelings to seek out this 
 
 prodigy. 
 It was his intention 
 To leave the city privately — we left it 
 Together — and together we arrived 
 In the poor town where Werner was concealed, 
 And Stralenheim was succoured — now we are on 
 The verge — dare you hear further ? 
 
 Sicg. I must do so — 
 Or I have heard too much. 
 
 Gabor. Wiien pursued by Stralenheim's attendants 
 On the false charge of robbery, you concealed me, 
 In secret 2)assages known to yourself, 
 You said, and to none else. At dead of night, 
 Weary witli watching in the dark, and dubious 
 Of tracing back my way — I saw a glimmer, 
 Through distant crannies, of a twinkling light. 
 I followed it, and reached a door — a secret 
 Portal — which opened to the chamber, where,
 
 Scene L] wernkr. C9 
 
 "With cautious hand and slow, having first undone 
 As much as made a crevice of the fastening, 
 I looked througii, and beheld a purple bed. 
 And on it Stralenheira ! — 
 
 Sieg. Asleep ! And yet 
 You slew him — Wretch ? 
 
 Gobor. He was already slain, 
 And bleeding like a sacrifice. My own 
 Blood became ice I 
 
 Sicg. But he was all alone ? 
 You saw none else ! You did not see the — 
 
 [He pauses from agitation. 
 
 Gahor. No ; 
 He, whom you dare not name — nor even I 
 Scarce dare to recollect, was not then in 
 The chamber. 
 
 Sieg. ( To Ulric.) Then, my boy ! thou art guiltless 
 still— 
 Thou bad'st me say I was so once — Oh ! now 
 Do thou as much ! 
 
 Gabor. Be patient ! I can not 
 Recede now, though it shake the very walls 
 Which frown above us. You remember, or 
 If not, your son does, — that the locks were changed 
 Beneath his chief inspection — on the morn 
 Which led to this same night : how he had entered, 
 Ho best knows — but within an antechamber, 
 The door of which was half ajar — I saw 
 A man, who washed his bloody hands, and oft 
 With stern and anxious glance gazed back upon 
 Tlie bleeding body — but it moved no more. 
 
 Sieg. Tliis is so — 
 
 Gabor. I beheld his features 
 As I see yours — behold them in Count Ulric's ? 
 
 Sieg. Oh, God of fathers ! 
 
 Gabor. I turned, and fled — i' the dark : Chance rather 
 than 
 Skill made me gain the secret door of the hall. 
 AVell 1 I fled and hid me— 
 Chance led me here after so many moons — 
 And showed me Werner in Count Siegendorf ! 
 You sought me, and have found me — now you know
 
 TO WERNER. [Act Y. 
 
 [My Fcoret, and may weigh its worth. 
 
 Si-'ff. (After a pause.) Are you a father? 
 
 Gahnr. 'So. 
 
 Sieg. Ah I then you cannot feel for misery like mine. 
 
 [Sits. 
 
 Gahor. i\Iark me. 
 When yon were poor, and I, though poor, 
 Rich enough to relieve such poverty 
 As might have envied mine, I offered you 
 jNIy purse — you would not share it : — I'll be franker 
 With you ; you are wealthy, noble, trusted by 
 The Imperial powers — You understand me ? 
 
 Si-'g. Dare you await the event of a few minutes' 
 Deliberation ? 
 
 Gabor. ( Casts his eyes on Vlric, iv/to is leaning against 
 a pillar.) If I should do so ? 
 
 Sieg. I pledge my life for yours. Withdraw into 
 This tower. \_Opms a turret-door. 
 
 Gabor. I did not enter Prague alone — and should I 
 Be put to rest with Straleuheim — there are 
 Some tongues without will wag in my behalf. 
 Be brief in your decision ! 
 
 igieg. I will be so. — 
 ISIy word is sacred and irrevocable 
 Within these walls, but it extends no further. 
 
 Gabor. I'll take it for so much. 
 
 Siig. (Points to Ulrics sabre, still upon the ground.) Take 
 also that — 
 I saw you eye it eagerly, and him 
 Distrustfully. 
 
 Gabor. (Takes up the sabre.) I will ; and so provide 
 To sell mv life — not cheaply. 
 
 [Gabor goes into the turret, which Sicgendarf ck*jes. 
 
 Sieg. (Advances to Vlric.) ISow, Count Ulric ! 
 For son I dare not call thee — what say'st thou? 
 
 Ulric. His tale is true ? 
 
 Sizg. True, monster ! 
 
 Vlric. Most true, father ; 
 And you did well to listen to it : what 
 We know, we can provide against. He must 
 Be silenced. 
 
 Sieg. How ?
 
 Scene I.] werner. 71 
 
 TJlric. As Stralcnlieim if. Are yon so dull 
 As never to have liit on this before ? 
 When we met in the garden, what except 
 Discovery in the act could make me know 
 His death ? Or had the prince's househohl been 
 Then summoned, would the cry for the police 
 Been left to such a stranger ? Or should I 
 have loitered on the way ? Or could you, Werner, 
 The oject of the Baron's hate and fears, 
 Have fled — unless by many an hour before 
 Suspicion woke ? I sought and fathomed you^ 
 Doubting if you were false or feeble ; I 
 Perceived you were the latter ; and yet, so 
 Confiding have I found you, that I doubted 
 At times your weakness. 
 
 Sieg. Parricide ! no less 
 Than common stabber ! What deed of my life, 
 Or thought of mine, could make you deem me fit 
 For your accomplice ? 
 
 Ulric. This is mere insanity ! 
 
 Sieg. Perhaps so — but who hath made me mad? 
 
 Utric. Be calm ! be calm ! 
 
 Sicg. Calm ! Oii, thou eternal power 1 can'st thou 
 Continue so with suc!i a world ? 
 
 TJlric. Father, do not rise 
 The devil you cannot lay, between us. This 
 Is time for union and for action, not 
 For family disputes. 
 
 Sicg. Oh ! my dead father's curse ! 'tis working now. 
 
 TJlric. Let it work on ! the grave will kiep it down 1 
 Ashes are feeble foes : it is more easy 
 To baffle such, than countermine a mole, 
 Which winds its blind but living path beneath you. 
 Yet hear me still. If you condemn me, yet 
 Remember who hath taught me once too often 
 To listen to him ! Who proclaimed to me 
 That there were crimes made venial by the occasion '{ 
 That passion was our nature ? that the goods 
 Of heaven waited on the goods of fortune ? 
 Wlio deprived me of 
 All power to vindicate myself and race 
 In open day ? By his disgrace which stamped
 
 T2 WERNER. [Act V. 
 
 fit miprht be) bastardy on me, and on 
 
 Hiiiiseir a /doll's braud ! 
 
 We Iiavc done 
 
 'With riglit and wrong ; and now mnst only ponder 
 
 Upon c'ti't;cts, not causes. Stralenlieini, 
 
 Wliose life I saved from impulse, as, unknown, 
 
 I would have saved a peasant's or a dog's, I slew, 
 
 Known as our foe — but not from vengeance. He 
 
 Was a rock in our way which I cut through. — 
 
 He, you, and I, stood o'er a gulf, wherein 
 
 I have plunged your enemy. You kindled first 
 
 Tite torch — you showed the path ; now trace me that 
 
 or safety — or let me ! 
 
 Sieg. I have done with life ! 
 
 Ulric. Let us have done with that which cankers life 
 
 Familiar feuds and vain recriminations 
 
 Of tilings which cannoi be undone. We have 
 
 Ko more to lenrn or hide : I know no fear, 
 
 And have within these very walls men whom 
 
 (Although you know them notj dare venture all things. 
 
 Yoi stand high with the state ; what passes here 
 
 Will not e.xcite her too great curiosity ; 
 
 Keep your own secret, keep a steady eye, 
 
 Stir not, and speak not ; — leave the rest to me : 
 
 We must have no tkird babblers thrust between ns. 
 
 [Exii Ulric. 
 
 Sicg. Am I awake ? are these my father's halls ? 
 And you — my son ? My son ! mine I who have ever 
 Abhorred both mystery and blood, and yet 
 Am plunged into the deepest hell of both I 
 jVIy heart is broke ! Its last, its dearest hope 
 Tlie son I doated on, a man of blood ! 
 I must be speedy, or more will be shed — 
 The Hungarian's — Ulric — he hath partisans, 
 It seems : I might have guessed as much. Oh, fool 1 
 Kow then ! or once more 
 To be the father of fresh crimes — no less 
 Than of the criminal 1 Ho ! Gabor ! Gabor I 
 
 Enter Gabor, r. 
 
 Gahor. Who calls ? 
 
 Sieg. I — Siegndorf ! Take these, and fly I
 
 Scene I.] werner. ^3 
 
 Lose not a moment ! 
 
 [ Tears off a dinviond star and other jewels, and thrusts 
 them iutn G aborts hand. 
 
 Guhnr. AVlmt um I to do 
 With these ? 
 
 Sieg. Whate'er you will : sell them, or hoard, 
 And jjrosper ; but delay not— or you are lost ! 
 
 Gubor. You pledged your honor for my safety 
 
 &kg. And 
 Must thus redeem it. Fly I I am not master, 
 It seems, of my own castle — of my own 
 Retainers — nay, even of these very walls, 
 Or 1 would bid them fall and crush me ! Fly I 
 Or you will be slain by — 
 
 Gubor. Is it eveu so ? 
 Farewell, then ! Recollect, however, count, 
 You sought this fatal interview I 
 
 Sieg. I did : 
 Let it not be more fatal still ! — Begone ! 
 
 Gabor. By the same path I entered ? 
 
 Sieg. Ko — by the postern ; that's safe still : 
 But loiter not in Prague ; you do not know 
 With whom you have to deal. 
 
 Gabor. I know too well — 
 Unhappy sire 1 
 
 Sieg. Speak not ! — Begone I lExit Gabor. 
 
 (Listening.) He hath cleared the staircase. Ah 1 I hear 
 Tlie door sound loud behiud him ! He is safe ! 
 Safe ! — Oh, my father's spirit ! — I am faiut. — 
 
 [JIc l&ms down vpon a stone seat, near the wall of the 
 tower, in a drooping posture. 
 
 Enter TJlric, with others armed, and with weapons drawn. 
 
 Ulric. Despatch ! — he's there ! 
 Ludtvig. The count, my lord I 
 TJlric. (Recognising Sieg.) You here, sir I 
 Sieg. Y'"es ; if you want another victim, strike I 
 Ulric. ( Seeing him stripped of his jewels.) Where is the 
 ruffian who hath plundered you? 
 Vassals, despatch in search of him 1 Y''ou see 
 'Twas as I said — the wretch hath stripped my father 
 Of jewels which might form a prince's heirloom I
 
 74 'WERNER. [Act V. 
 
 Away ! I'll follow you forthwith. 
 
 [Exeunt all but Siegendorf and Ulric. 
 What's this ? 
 Wlierc is the villain ? 
 
 Sieg. Tiicre are two, sir ; which 
 Are you in quest of ? 
 
 Vlric. Let us hear no more 
 Of this ; he must be found. 
 Did he escape with your connivance? 
 
 Sieg. With 
 My fallest, freest aid. 
 
 Vlric. Then fare you well ! [ Ulric is going. 
 
 Sieg. Stop ! I command — entreat — implore ! Oh 1 
 Ulric ! 
 Will you then leave me ? 
 
 Ulric. What ! remain to be 
 Denounced — dragged, it may be, in chains ; and all 
 By your inherent weakness, half-humanity, 
 S"lfish remorse, and temporising pity. 
 That sacrifices your whole race to save 
 A wretch to profit by our ruin ! No, count, 
 Henceforth yon have no son ! 
 
 Sieg. I never had one ; 
 Aiid would you ne'er hud borne the useless name I 
 Wliere will you go ? I would not send you forth 
 Witliout protection. 
 
 Ulric. Leave that nnto me. 
 I am not alone ; nor merely the vain heir 
 Of your domains ; a tlionsand, ay, ten thousand 
 Swords, henrts, and hands, are mine. 
 
 Sieg. The t'ore>.ters 
 With whom the Hungarian found you first at Frankfort? 
 
 Ulric. Yes — men — who are worthy of the name 1 
 
 Sieg. Now open wide, my sire, thy grave 1 thy curse 
 Hath dug it deeper for thy son in mine ! 
 
 Enter Josephine and Ida. 
 
 Jos. What is't we hear ? My Siegendorf? 
 Thank heaven, I see you safe ! 
 
 Ida. Dear father ! 
 
 Sieg. No, no ; I have no children : never more 
 Call me by that \vor:st uame of parent.
 
 SCENK I.] WEBXEB 75 
 
 Jos. . What 
 Means my good lord? 
 
 Sieg. That you have given birtb 
 To a demon ! 
 
 Ida. ( Taking Ulricas hand.) Wlio shall dare say this of 
 Ulric ? 
 
 Sieg. Ida, beware ! there's blood upon that hand ! 
 
 Ulric Away 1 It is your father's ! \_Rushing out. 
 
 Enter Gabor and Officers, 
 
 Galor. Officers, behold the assassin ! Seize him ! 
 [Ida foils senseless — Josephine stands speechless with horror. 
 
 Sieg. The race of Sicgendorf is past ! 
 My Josephine, 'tis death that sinks me down I 
 
 Jos. Ko ! no ! 
 
 Sieg. 'Tis death ! and from the son I loved I 
 Pray for him ! for our son ! pray for him ! 
 Oh, that my dying voice might. Help me 
 To kneel 1 Forgive !— Oh, Ullric I Ulric 1 [Dies. 
 
 THE END.
 
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