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Franz von Sickingen 
 
 A Tragedy in Five Acts 
 
 Translated from the Ger- 
 man of Ferdinand Lassalle 
 
 // 
 By 
 
 DANIEL DE LEON 
 
 "The highest power for the favorable treatment 
 of a subject still remains with poetry." — A. von 
 Humboldt. 
 
 
 NEW YORK LABOR NEWS COMPANY 
 New York 
 

 Copyright fli9P^ by the 
 N»w York lyABOR News Co. 
 
TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE 
 
 It is not the grandeur of its conception, nor its mechanical per- 
 fection, nor yet the sublimity of its diction, in short, it is not its 
 literary merits that have driven me — for driven I was — to under- 
 take the translation of Lassalle's **Franz von Sickingen.'* In all 
 these features English literature is abundantly wealthy. Happy he 
 who has the taste and time to drink at that rich fount. Translations 
 into English, even the best, would be a wasteful taking of coal to 
 Newcastle. 
 
 Franz von Sickingen was a distinguished German knight — distin- 
 guished in wealth, in character, in genius and in arms — on that bor- 
 derland of the world's events when the scroll of the Middle Ages was 
 being rolled up, and the scroll of Modern History began to unroll. 
 Sickingen's stature is almost legendary. His mind and heart were 
 fired by the rays of the rising sun. The aim he set to himself, and 
 which he devised jointly with Ulrich von Hutten, had he succeeded, 
 would have saved Germany the devastating Thirty Years' War, unified 
 the nation along a direct and less thorny path than it was forced to 
 travel, and materially changed the history of Europe for the better 
 of mankind. He failed. He had a purpose firm, but the rock on which 
 he suffered shipwreck was to fail to make his purpose known. Im- 
 possible as it was to conceal his purpose from the detection of the 
 keen instinct of the usurpatory elements to whom his success meant 
 destruction, nothing was easier than its concealment from the masses, 
 to whom his success meant salvation. Assailed by the former, who 
 penetrated his designs, and left in the lurch by the latter, to whom his 
 designs remained a secret, Sickingen went down. 
 
 In these our own days of transition, when individuality — before 
 taking the imminent leap that will enable it to bloom as never before 
 in the history of man — is reduced to a minimum; when the modern 
 machine-compelled interdependence of man upon man — that is the 
 earnest of civilized manhood — ^has for its present effect the nipping of 
 self-reliance; when the present vastness of wealth producible — that 
 is the pledge of a social system where, untrammeled by the brute's 
 requirement of arduous toil for physical existence, the intellect can 
 freely spread its wings — now bears the ashen fruit of tongue-tying the 
 intellectual lest the physical part of man pay the penalty; — in such 
 days as these no tactical maxim of conduct has the value of that 
 which this tragedy of Lassalle's preaches, whose observance it enjoins, 
 
 Nim^7ii^ 
 
iv. . FRANZ VON SICKINGEN. 
 
 and whose neglect it superbly warns against. With a majestic his- 
 toric setting, draped in poetic elegance, and planted upon a pedestal 
 of golden maxims that converge upwards, and illumine the principle 
 itself, "Franz von Sickingen" raises in thrilling yet statuesque solemn- 
 ity the principle — not merely to have a purpose firm, but also to dare 
 
 to MAKE IT KNOWN. 
 
 So demoralizing on the will are the economic conditions that this 
 generation is traversing, and so vital is the lesson in the tragedy of 
 "Franz von Sickingen" to expedite the transition from the present to 
 the better era that is beckoning our race, that I undertook the ardu- 
 ous task of rendering this work into English, undeterred even by 
 the additional difficulty of preserving, as needs had to be preserved, 
 the metrical garb — blank verse, or unrhymed meter, of standard lines 
 of iambic pentameter — in which the original is decked. On this score 
 my apprehensions were silenced by the thought that the best part 
 of poetry is ever translatable, and will shine even through an im- 
 perfect rendition, while the substance remains in unimpaired lustre. 
 
 To "Franz von Sickingen" pre-eminently applies what, on the 
 occasion of other translations I have said before regarding other works 
 — ^this work deserves the broader field of the Socialist or Labor Move- 
 ments of the English-speaking world, hereby afforded to it; and in- 
 versely, the Socialist or Labor Movements of the English-speaking 
 world, entitled to the best, and none too good, that the Movement 
 produces in other languages, can not but profit by the work, hereby 
 rendered accessible to them. 
 
 New York, April 9, 1904. DANIEL DE LEON. 
 
DRAMATIS PERSONAE 
 
 Emperob Charles V. 
 
 Elector Ludwig, of the Palatinate, Palsgrave and Duke. 
 
 Richard von Greifenklau, Archbishop and Elector of Treves. 
 
 Philip, Landgrave of Hesse. 
 
 The Papal Cardinal-Legate. 
 
 Hans Renner, Imperial Minister and Councilor. 
 
 Franz von Sickingen. 
 
 Ulrich von Hutten. 
 
 Count William von Furstenbebq. 
 
 Count Eitelfritz von Zollern. 
 
 Fro WIN VON Hutten, Grandmaster and Chamberlain of Elector- 
 Archbishop Albrecht of Mayence. 
 
 Knight Philip von Rudesheim. 
 
 Knight Henrich von Schwarzenberg. 
 
 Knight William von Waldeck. 
 
 Knight Henry von Dhan. 
 
 Knight Philip von Dalberg. pw^^o ^^^ f^n^^^^c. 
 
 Knight Wolf von Turckheim. } ^"^'"^^f ^tfJnlS 
 
 Knight von Benningen. ^ ^^ S^cJc^ngen. 
 
 Knight von Falkenstein. 
 
 Knight Harmuth von Kronberg. 
 
 Knight Fritz von Sombreff. 
 
 Knight Hilchen Lorch. 
 
 Oekolampadius, Lutheran Chaplain in Sicking en^s household. 
 
 Balthasar Sloer, Sickingen's private secretary and confidential man. 
 
 Captain Joerg von Augsburg^, Sickingen's master of ordnance. 
 
 Jos Fritz, a peasant agitator. 
 
 Marie, Sickingen's daughter. 
 
 Count Solms. 
 
 Kurt, an attendant of Sickingen. 
 
 The Private Secretary of the Palsgrave Ludung. 
 
 A Knight of Treves. 
 
 A Captain of the Treves Lancers. 
 
 An Imperial Herald. 
 
 A Herald in th§ service of Sickingen. 
 
 An Inn-keeper. 
 
 An Armor-bearer. 
 
 A Physician. 
 
 Two Messengers. 
 
 Knights, lancers, monks, attendants, peasants, townsmen and wo- 
 men of Treves. 
 
 (The scene takes place during the years 1520 and 1523.) 
 
Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 
 in 2008 with funding from 
 
 IVIicrosoft Corporation 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/franzvonsickingeOOtranrich 
 
ACT I. 
 
 Scene I. — A. room in the castle of Ehemhurg. 
 
 Marte, folding awaj/ some needle-work, at which she was engaged. 
 Balthasab, a man about sixty years of age, completely grey, but 
 still in full vigor, and of clear, strong voice. 
 
 MoATie. I know not, Balthasar, my father is. 
 
 For some time since, not cheerful as before. 
 
 He, oft'ner than his wont, secludes himself. 
 
 And then, when letters come, I find 
 
 Most oft his brow with brooding clouds bedimmed. 
 Balth. The consequence it is — ^you'll pardon me. 
 
 My habit ever was to speak straight out — 
 
 The consequence it is of his — own folly. 
 Marie. How, Balthasar! Folly and my father? 
 
 And is it right to say so to his daughter? 
 Balth. My gracious maid, a full-fledged lass, 
 
 You may well stand a word plain said. 
 
 Besides, you know full well, though you his daughter be, 
 
 You love not Franz more warmly than myself. 
 Marie. {Reaching out her hand to him with tenderness.) 
 
 And that is true! You are a faithful servitor. 
 Balth. A faithful servitor! What wonder! 
 
 I could not to myself be true 
 
 Were I aught else to him. When I was persecuted; 
 
 When, lustful after power, the magistrate of Worms 
 
 High-handed drove me out; 'gainst law and right 
 
 Dispoiled jne of all my goods, and into a beggar turned me; — 
 
 Who was it that my quarrel then took up! 
 
 In vain I cried to Emp'ror and to realm! 
 
 The mighty city balked me everywhere: 
 
 The Emp'ror needed it, and none dared venture 
 
 To break with it on my account. 
 
 Your father, then, I turned to in distress. 
 
 My faith! That was a counselor at law! 
 
 Another such the land does not contain! 
 
 He took me up, cross-questioned my behavior. 
 
i^V : J^KANZ TON SICKINGEK. 
 
 And when he saw that violence had been done me. 
 
 He simply said these words: "Well, Balthasar, 
 
 Sith not the pen may stead, be it then the sword!" 
 
 And as Worms laughed at his petition, 
 
 Refusing justice to my suit. 
 
 And arrogantly threatened him 
 
 With bans from Emp'ror and from realm, 
 
 He took about ten thousand first-class reasons — 
 
 Pikes, I mean, my gracious maid — and drew 
 
 With them before the town of Worms, where he 
 
 Began to "demonstrate" and to "distinguish." 
 
 He knoweth how! 
 
 So well did he "distinguish" that the walls receded. 
 
 Nor Kaiser's anger, nor the danger himself ran 
 
 Could frighten him to drop my cause. 
 
 A scamp were he who such a favor could forget. 
 Marie. You are a trusty, faithful soul! 
 Balth. I thank you, gentle maid! — ^And yet, for all 
 
 These reasons and so very many more. 
 
 That to the knight bind fast my steady love. 
 
 My love does not my old eyes blind 
 
 To what I still must call — ^his folly. 
 Marie. [Sportively.l Oh, now, I see you come back to th* assault; 
 
 There's something, master, sits upon your heart. 
 
 My father must, again, have had his way. [With comic pathos.} 
 
 Well, then, before our throne set forth your plea. 
 
 We ready are to hear you, faithful subject ! 
 
 Right will be done to you! — On that 
 
 Take our imperial word. 
 Balth. You badger. 
 
 Wanton girl! Yet all the same. 
 
 Old Balthasar is quite in earnest. — ^You know, my noble maid. 
 
 That Francis, France's king, has on your father 
 
 Bestowed the marshal's staff? 
 Marie. [Continuing her assumed rdle of grandeur.} 
 
 We know as much. 
 Balth. And do you know the manner how? 
 Marie [As above hut somewhat embarrassed.} No — Yes — ^partly I 
 
 The cares of State have made us 
 
 Almost forget the incident. 
 Balth. [Aside.] The charming monkey! Truly, 
 
 My grey hairs notwithstanding, I could kiss her. 
 
1PIIAK2 VON SICKINGEN. 
 
 [To Marie.} Now, hearken unto me: 
 It was, then, when your father Lorraine's duke 
 . — The same who since became our ally — 
 O'ercome by arms; — when, thereupon, 
 For reasons highly just he warred 'gainst Metz, 
 And others there, like I myself in Worms, 
 Having been wronged, and having turned to him, 
 And he with twenty thousand men 
 On foot and twenty thousand horse^ 
 Sat down before the place, and pressed it close. 
 So close that the besieged patricians were 
 Constrained to apologize and make redress — 
 'Twas then that series of prowesses drew 
 King Francis' eyes upon the knight, who, single-handed, 
 Without ado, could muster up such armies 
 As not himself the Emp'ror could bring up 
 Without a mighty effort, and oft failed 
 To fetch a-field. He sought 
 To win him o'er; invited to Sedan 
 The knight; sent thither Count La Mark, also 
 The Duke of Bouillon and the Marquis of Fleurang«s 
 To lead him through half France 
 With honors great, in princely style. 
 At last they took him to Amboise, 
 Where then King Francis held his court. 
 And, then, indeed, the wild carouse began! 
 The King behaved as tho', without the knight, 
 He could not live: and at full court. 
 Himself a golden chain around his neck he placed, 
 And to the knight the marshal's staff delivered 
 With his own hands! The grandees were constrained 
 To act as if, for very love, they would devour him. 
 Nor was the^r wonder slight 
 At sight of Franz's cavalcade — 
 Behind him rode for retinue, 
 The choicest noblemen of Germany, 
 The realm's most mighty Coimts 
 Far more illustrious than himself. 
 Of houses far more ancient — him they followM, 
 And built his noble guard. 
 Marie. Us seems Sir plaintiff, that as yet 
 'There is no cause for a complaint. 
 
4 J'RANZ VON SICKINGEI?. 
 
 Balth. Tis but the introduction! 
 
 Marie. Please drop the introduction, 
 
 And to the subject! The process lasts too long. 
 
 Else from the court I must dismiss you! 
 
 [Laughing.'\ And I have yet to see to dinner. 
 Balth. To that our Bridget will attend. Young lady. 
 
 You would not hold such language, had you seen 
 
 The brilliant ladies at the French King's court. 
 Marie. [Quickly.] Indeed? They're handsome, do you think? 
 Balth. What houris, by my soul! 
 
 And talk they did that our mouths 
 
 Ran water. They all 
 
 Were wonderfully drilled, and constituted 
 
 The heavy ordnance wherewith King Francis 
 
 The steel-cased knight bombarded; — 
 
 For, sweet maid, our neighbors fashion 'tis 
 
 That women stand, no less than men. 
 
 At service of their King! But all that was. 
 
 As with me now, so also with King Francis, 
 
 The introduction only. Kaiser Max was old. 
 
 His tribute soon to Nature would be due, 
 
 That was the point objective. King Francis speculated 
 
 Upon our crown imperial. Aye, already 
 
 The Palatine and him of Treves he had. 
 
 But well he knew that Franz, your father, 
 
 Tho' not the peer of any of the sev'n, who. 
 
 At Frankfort, hold the privilege. 
 
 Yet when it comes t'elect, would cast a vote 
 
 As strong as all the seven put together. 
 
 Accordingly, when Kaiser Max his eyes did close. 
 
 King Francis sent a special envoy here 
 
 To Franz, the knight. — You surely could not 
 
 That ornate Frenchman from your mind have lost 
 
 Who then arrived at our Ebernburg? 
 Marie. [LoAighing.] Oh! whether I recall him! Velvety 
 
 And silken, gold-brocaded was his jacket. 
 
 I would have feared the man to touch 
 
 For fear I spoiled his gear. Indeed, 
 
 He was, of men, the handsomest I ever saw. 
 
 If he but held his tongue! When that he wagged^ 
 
 ITien all was o'er! Such compliments he paid me — 
 
 More pointed far than were his pointed shoes. 
 
FKANZ VON SICKINGEN. 
 
 So sugar-sweet, it was no easy thing 
 
 For me to keep from laughing outright in his face. 
 
 Poor man, to bring his whole supply 
 
 Of monkey-tricks from Paris 
 
 And waste them here! I gladly would 
 
 Have packed up for him all his costly sweets. 
 
 And kept him free from loss with us! 
 Balth. Although the man displeased you, miss, — 
 
 He was of mighty lineage and distinguished house. 
 
 What mattered what he spoke — 
 
 To please you he'd have held his tongue. 
 
 You two a stately couple would have made. 
 Marie. Oh, Balthasar! On that you're inexpert. 
 
 With us, the women, so the saying goes. 
 
 The soul sits in the eye. May be. I do not know 
 
 And yet I know* — 
 
 It sits upon the tongue of man. 
 Balth. Indeed? 
 
 Have you your studies made in that? 
 
 Perchance experience gathered on the head? 
 Marie. [Blushing.] Oh, Balthasar, how you run on! 
 
 I know you understand me well enough. 
 
 But force yourself to misinterpret me. 
 
 The man, I mean, whom noble thoughts possess, 
 
 Makes himself, by his own words known to us. 
 
 The howy as well and more than what he says. 
 
 Reveals to us the inner soul of man. 
 Balth. Hm! Hml 
 
 I see! — ^At Albrecht's, the Elector's Mayence court, 
 
 Where you a while sojourned. 
 
 Where arts and sciences bloom luxuriantly, 
 
 Oh, there, I see, the thoughts of these new times 
 
 Have made *heir lodgment in your head. But yesterday, 
 
 A German knight knew but about stout blows: 
 
 They now must also have stout minds. — Well, well, 
 
 I blame, you not, young lady. Myself, 
 
 Am heart'ly pleased to see the change! 
 
 And fitting 'tis that you. 
 
 The daughter of Franz Sickingen — 
 
 The but too ready shield of the new stream — 
 
 Should think like that. Nor is it strange 
 
 Your father's standard should inspirit yov 
 
If FRANZ VON SICKINGEN. 
 
 For thought and speech are equal great with him.. 
 
 The Marquis of Fleuranges, acquainted with 
 
 The leading men of Germany as well as France, 
 
 Where elegance of speech is sedulously nursed. 
 
 Said once to me, that never^ all his life. 
 
 So powerful an orator he met. 
 
 Indeed, the heat of inspiration on. 
 
 There flows a stream of lava from his tongue. 
 
 And carries all along with mighty rush. 
 
 But, otherwise, he's rather taciturn. 
 
 Keeps house, let's others do the talking. 
 Marie. So, Balthasar^ I far prefer to see you 
 
 When you my father praise, than when 
 
 You scold at him. 
 Balth. Quite so, and thereby 
 
 I am reminded to resume the thread of my 
 
 Complaint. Well, then, the Frenchman, who 
 
 Such sweet civilities bestowed on you — 
 
 To Franz himself brought others still more sweet, 
 
 From France's King, and much more solid ones withal. 
 
 Full thirty thousand kronen-thalers cash. 
 
 Besides, for life as yearly revenue. 
 
 Eight thousand thalers more. 
 
 Well patented on land and men, he proffered, 
 
 If Franz but promised faithful to support 
 
 Him at the Imperial vote then pending; — 
 
 And should he still want more, he sent him word. 
 
 He would not haggle on the diff'rence. 
 
 But Franz, misguided by his foolish 
 
 Adherence to King Charles, as Max's kin. 
 
 Rejected flatly ev'ry offer — 
 
 And wrote upon the spot 
 
 To Charles, the proffered trade to apprize him of! 
 Marie [Impetuously.] Fie! — Shame upon you, my old Sloer, 
 
 Oh, never from you, had I thought to hear 
 
 My father blamed for his declining 
 
 To sell the crown abroad, and then, at that, 
 
 p- dirty gold! 
 
 jj ^ Do not bite me, noble girl— 
 
 jfJ^\ v^'s blood wells up in this young child— 
 11 ne Dut ^^^ ^^^^ J ^^^j^ ^j^^g j^.^^ f^j. 
 
FRANZ VON SICKINGEN. 
 
 The young King Charles himself is none of ours. 
 
 Per contra, did King Francis at the time 
 
 Through learned men prove everywhere 
 
 He was a German, tracing his descent 
 
 From th' Emp'ror Charles the Great. — 'Tis odd! 
 
 No sooner is th' Imperial crown at stake, 
 
 When "Germans" all proclaim themselves. But when 
 
 The German realm is in distress — then 
 
 The kinship none recalls! 
 
 Now, then, admit yourself the difference null 
 
 There is between King Francis and King Charles — 
 
 They're aliens both. The only diff'rence lies 
 
 In ancestors a brace. 
 
 That difference, meseems, the many thalers 
 
 Could amply have planed down. 
 
 Still — 'tis not that I'm driving at. 
 
 So slight a foolish act your father 
 
 Soon I'd pardon for. Broad enough are his estates; 
 
 Needs not King Francis* coin. And, in the end, 
 
 'Twould be the same to him whether the German throne 
 
 Was filled with Francis or with Charles. All one ! 
 
 No, young lady, no; a far more foolish act 
 
 Is that I blame him for. — 
 
 To slip by he allowed a juncture, that 
 
 Perhaps, may never more return again. 
 
 If he alert had been to his advantage. 
 
 He would quite otherwise have done! 
 Marie. What was it then? 
 Balth. Young lady, this it was: 
 
 Perchance I yet may see the hour for 
 
 Amends — perchance it may not strike 
 
 Until old Ba,lthasar is dead! 
 
 If so, I bind it now upon your soul 
 
 To stir him up. Some day, perhaps, your lead 
 
 He'll follow readier than Balthasar's to-day. 
 
 Athwart the wrappage of your mirthful mind 
 
 The heroine's soul I long have spied, 
 
 That swift is seized by great designs, 
 
 And steadily pursues them — ^will develop further! 
 Marie. [With comic pathos.] 
 
 Upon that heroine's soul, as yet to me 
 
 Unknown, detected by yourself, 
 
S FRANZ VON SICKINGEN. 
 
 I swear — 
 
 What you demand, fulfilled shall be! 
 
 With all the easier conscience. 
 
 Seeing — that I grasp not your intent. 
 Balth. Now, listen!— When, at last, the time had come 
 
 For balloting at Frankfort, and 
 
 The choice for Emp'ror trembled in the scales. 
 
 Your father gathered — in the interest of Charles, 
 
 And pressure on the pious realm's Electors — 
 
 An army of more than twenty thousand men; 
 
 Marched with it upon Frankfort; and 
 
 He comfortably sat him down before 
 
 The walls. It was a pleasure to behold 
 
 How Franz the whip-hand seized and held. 
 
 E*en our Elector Palatine — the only Prince, 
 
 Besides th* Elector of Mayence, who loves the knight — 
 
 Protested, but in vain. 
 
 Now, see! Your father held the dice in hand. 
 
 All to his fiddle then were forced to dance. 
 
 They lay there at his will and mercy! 
 
 Both nation and nobility were with him — 
 
 Indeed, it had been for their best — and at 
 
 His own disposal stood an army ready 
 
 To be torn to pieces for his sake! Oh, 
 
 How I vainly argued then ! Th' Electors, 
 
 Aye, all the seven, had he in a bunch — 
 [Maying the motion.} 
 
 Flap— 
 Franz. [Behind the scenes.] Feed well the nag; 
 
 He earned his fodder, well to-day! 
 Marie. [Jumping up.] Keep still, my father! 
 
 Scene II. 
 
 The former; Fbanz von Sickingen. 
 
 Franss. [Stepping in briskly.] Good morning, child! 
 
 Marie. [Running to him and falling on his neck.] Beloved father! 
 
 Franz. [Contemplating her.] You charmer! Lovely child! Give me 
 
 A kiss, you sprightly thing! 
 Marie. [Kissing him.] And gladly, too! You seem 
 
 To-day in happy mood. How glad that makes me! 
 Franz. I had a brisk and early canter o'er the fields; — 
 
FRANZ VON SICKINGEN. 
 
 The wind blew fresh upon me. 
 
 Good morning, Balthasar! 
 Balth. I thank your honor! 
 
 Franz. I heard you stiffly perorating. 
 
 No doubt you did yourself full justice, and 
 
 As usual, laid it hard upon me. 
 Marie. [Roguishly.] On that head, father, not this once 
 
 Could you with justice chide him. We 
 
 Were playing court, Sir. Balthasar 
 
 Accused you, and I — I was the Kaiser! 
 Franz. [Laughing.] My old man, Sloer, of that tribunal, 
 
 Before which you as my accuser stand, 
 
 'Twere hard that evil came to me. 
 Balth. You err. Sir! Oh! if the tribunal I but knew 
 
 That you to alter had the pow'r — full soon 
 
 You'd see me your accuser! I was just engaged 
 
 In strongest strokes to tax you 
 
 With all the seven mortal sins, that I 
 
 So oft, have vainly combated in you — 
 
 MisplacM magnanimity; excessive 
 
 And idle abnegation, where, hand in hand, 
 
 Your own advantage and the common weal 
 
 Keep step; confiding, as though others, like you were;— 
 
 Besides, what all the sins may be, that, yet 
 
 Some time may be avenged upon you. 
 Franz. Do I interpret right? Why, Balthasar, 
 
 It looks to me, with yonder maid you have 
 
 Been chopping politics. Art not ashamed. 
 
 You grey-head ? 
 Balth. Not at all ! There's Margaret of Parma 
 
 She is a regent, truly as wise, Sir, 
 
 As any Prince in Europe, now alive. 
 
 Whence had she learned as much. 
 
 Had it not timely in her been drilled? 
 Franz. Yes, Balthasar, I see it clearly — with you 
 
 No man will ever be found right. 
 
 I know, a councilor imperial 
 
 Was lost in you. 
 Balth. [With emphasis.] Yours, Sir, the fault 
 
 If none as yet I am. 
 Franz. Oho! I see 
 
 You still are aiming high. 
 
10 FRANZ VON SICKINGEN. 
 
 [Sits doton.} To something else! 
 
 The learned, worthy Reuchlin, 
 
 Of science the restorer. 
 
 Has written me a second letter. 
 
 The parsons of Cologne, that pack in black, 
 
 Those tonsured panters after burning pyres. 
 
 They still are bent upon molesting him. 
 
 They annoy and tantalize the man; refuse 
 
 To indemnify him for the process' costs ; 
 
 Prefer to appeal to Rome; and contemplate 
 
 To see him yet condemned a heretic! — 
 
 Now, write to the provincial of Cologne: 
 
 Franciscus humbly sends his greetings. 
 
 Is at his patience's end — insists on peace. 
 
 I also wish you write them clearly — 
 
 Tell them I hope at last they hear, 
 
 If not, I'll have to use my speaking trumpets^ 
 
 You know — 
 Balth. I understand you. Sir; I understand you fully! 
 
 I know your speaking trumpets! Quite unique! 
 
 That man were deaf who could not hear them! 
 
 Could name them all to you. First, the Nightingale ; 
 
 The Rooster next, and then whatever names the rest may have— 
 
 The matchless culver ins, the mortars and the falconets. 
 
 The carronades, that master Stephan 
 
 Has elegantly cast for you in Frankfort. Heard 
 
 You speak with them in front of Worms and Darmstadt — 
 
 Philip of Hesse still feels at ev'ry limb 
 
 The language that so plain you held to him 
 
 That day! 
 Franz, Now, write that I demand, within a month. 
 
 To see the matter settled, once for all ; 
 
 And if not promptly done to date. 
 
 Before Cologne acquaintance will they make 
 
 With Franz of Sickingen. 
 Balth. Sir, 'twere hard 
 
 For you to give me a pleasanter commission — 
 
 I only wish the tonsured pates gave it 
 
 No heed. How soon would they 
 
 Not to their patron Saint, 
 
 The holy Dominicus, occasion have to pray! 
 Yet — that's a pleasure that I must forego. 
 
FRANZ VON SICKINGEN. 11 
 
 They know you but too well. 
 Franz. And now, I must 
 
 A word speak with this lassie. 
 
 [While he turns to Marie a servant enters.} 
 Serv. A knight is at the gate, and asks admission; 
 
 Ulrich von Hutten his name he gives. 
 Franz. [With joy.] What! Ulrich? 
 
 Marie. [Blttshing.] Ulrich von Hutten! 
 Franz. A happy day! Ne'er rode 
 
 A better guest into the Ebernburg! 
 
 [To Marie.} The best man of all Germany 
 
 You're now about to see! 
 
 [To the servant who has remained standing.} 
 
 What, fellow, stand you there still? 
 
 Make haste, take wings. 
 
 And lead him quickly hither! [Eacit servant.} 
 
 [Again turning to Marie.} My child. 
 
 When this our German land in deepest sleep still lay. 
 
 When still no breast to breathe did dare* 
 
 'Twas he who first the mighty impulse gave. 
 
 Ere Luther did, did he the word pronounce, 
 
 And bravely flung his gaimtlet at the face 
 
 Of mighty Rome, and in the impulse of his heart 
 
 Declared war on usurpation. He 
 
 Alone! — ^And with his proud device, "I've dared it!" 
 
 Himself a freeman spoke. "Wake up, wake up 
 
 Thou noble freedom!" was the fervid cry 
 
 That bold he sounded through the land's confines 
 
 With might, throughout the fettered nation. 
 
 The hearts of men within their breasts inflaming. 
 
 Like none a wak'ner of the people! 
 
 Note well the man, my child, that you 
 
 May learn to know how great men look. 
 Marie. [Embarrassed.} Oh, Sir, 
 
 I know him — Met him at the court of Albrecht — 
 
 For four months there I dwelt. 
 
 [Hesitating.} . When, at the tourney that th' Elector gave. 
 
 The knight my colors wore. 
 Franz. Indeed? 
 
 And did, perchance, he look you in the face ? 
 Marie. I know not that. It almost seemed to me 
 
 'Twas rather, father, in honor of yourself — ^you see, 
 
12 FKANZ VON SICKINGEN. 
 
 Nowise like th' other gentlemen was he. 
 
 Forever at the heels of us the girls; 
 
 And, on the whole, he spent but little time 
 
 With us. 
 Franz. I dare say ! 
 
 Quite other thoughts engage his mind! 
 Marie. {Quickly.^ But when he was with us 
 
 He ever markedly distinguished me. 
 Fram^z. Indeed ? You're an important personage ! 
 
 I fancy he has made you proud. 
 
 Scene III. 
 The former; Uleich von Hutten. 
 
 Ulrich. [Stepping in briskly and with outstretched arms towards 
 
 Franz.] Franz von Sickingen! 
 Franz. {Likewise hastening towards him.] Ulrich von Hutten! 
 
 They embrace warmly. 
 Ulrich. [Noticing Marie, takes a step towards her and bows.} 
 
 Accept, young lady, my respectful greeting, 
 
 How happy it makes me once again to see you! 
 Marie. Sir knight, my thanks ; in truth, I'm also glad. 
 Franz. I hear you know each other from Mayence. 
 Ulrich. Yes; at 
 
 The tourney I wore the lady's colors^ 
 
 Although with less of luck than pleasure. 
 
 My own was holding well ; already had my lance 
 
 Unhorsed some three or four tall knights, 
 
 When all along there came a cyclop — 
 
 From Brandenburg, sent by th' Elector's brother — 
 
 Square-built and like a bull in strength. 
 
 He roughly brought me down. 
 Marie. Sir knight, believe me^ it pained me to the heart 
 
 To see you drop, and all on my account. 
 
 I feared the heavy fall had done you hurt. 
 
 Myself I could have pardoned nevermore! 
 VWich. [Smiles and bows.] 
 
 Not that it was that pained me, noble maid. 
 
 The trifling fall was quickly shaken off; 
 
 But that your colors, as they would deserve. 
 
 To rictory I failed to carry; — that 
 
 Perchance, Iliyself in poorer light might stand 
 
FRANZ VON SICKINGEN. 13 
 
 In your esteem, than I would wish — 
 
 That pained me much. 
 Marie. [With warmth though bashfully.} 
 
 How can you hold such language! 
 
 Who's he who ne'er in arms has found his master ? 
 
 And is the rough-rude sword the only weapon 
 
 That us with wonder fills us for man? 
 
 You wield still other far more mighty weapons, 
 
 And fame proclaims it that your pen of fire 
 
 In Christendom's broad field finds not its equal! 
 
 That brilliant falchion of the mind — 
 
 You wield it in humanity's great service. 
 
 For freedom and for light, for all that's noble; 
 
 For virtuous aims you wield it like a hero 
 
 With a triumphant power. 
 
 [Deeply blushing, as if having allowed herself to he 
 carried too fa/r, steps back.] 
 Franz. [Smiling to Balthasar.] Now, list, Balthasar, to that, 
 
 What all the minx can say! 
 
 [Stepping towards Marie and Ulrich.] 
 
 A great word have you uttered, child of mine. 
 [LoA/ing his hand on Ulrich.] 
 
 Upon this pen the nation's hope does rest ; 
 
 None better^i stronger, in all Christendom! 
 
 And yet is that not yet the best about him. 
 
 Mayhap some day as mighty pens may flourish. 
 
 Mayhap still mightier — but never 
 
 A more undaunted valor, or a nobler mind. 
 Balth. [Stepping towards Ulrich.] 
 
 Accept, Sir knight, my homage too. 
 
 From one it comes whose aged heart 
 
 You oft have set aglow. 
 Ulrich. [Shaking his hand.] 
 
 Your name is Sloer? Who should not know you! 
 
 Abroad your reputation reaches far. 
 
 The praises of your diplomatic skill. 
 
 'Tis said of Sickingen's arm'd forces 
 
 You are at least one half. 
 Franz. And rightly too. If but he did not ever 
 
 So high persist in soaring, an abler head 
 
 It were quite hard to find. — But, Sir knight. 
 
 You come, if I am right, from Brussels, 
 
H FRANZ VON SICKINGEN. 
 
 From the Emp'ror's brilliant court? 
 Ulrich. [Sighing.} I do! 
 
 Wrwnz. Enlighten us! How did you find our Charles? 
 Ulrich. [Turning his head OAva^/.] 
 
 I trust no prince hereafter. 
 Balth. [To Franz.} There's your Charles! 
 
 As I foresaw — 
 Fra/n». [Interrupting him.} Oh, silence, Balthasar! 
 
 Pray, triumph not. — If so it be — 
 
 'Tis all the worse for me, as well as him. 
 
 [To Ulrich.} Report whate'er it be. I should be posted well. 
 Ulrich. Sir^ short is my report. I moved to Brussels. 
 
 Intending with the newly chosen Emp'ror 
 
 For the new doctrine and the cause endear'd 
 
 Of German freedom diligent to labor. 
 
 In that young stripling's soul I hoped to kindle 
 
 Enthusiasm, that purest heritage of youth. 
 
 Into a mighty thirst for noble deeds^ 
 
 Whose lusty breath and travail should give birth 
 
 To a rejuvenated, brighter world. — 
 
 You know what great hopes all of us. 
 
 All Germany, and most of all yourself. 
 
 Did pin upon that young man's head — 
 
 [He stops short. Sickingen motions him to proceed.} 
 
 Now watch! 
 [With half concealed disgust.} 
 
 Not e'en an audience could I gain 
 
 With the Emp'ror, or his brother. 
 
 The Archduke Ferdinand! 
 Franz. A sinister beginning! 
 
 Ulrich. By Romanists and courtesans. 
 
 The creatures of the Pope, found I 
 
 The Emp'ror's ears besieged. Uncanny 
 
 And as if moved with glee malicious, bom 
 
 Of secret joy at my discomfiture. 
 
 Sir, scoffingly on me the en'my's eye 
 
 Regaled itself. But soon it all came out! 
 
 Our friends flocked anxiously to warn me 
 
 Pope Leo, thus it ran, had ordered I be seized 
 
 And, bound, delivered up to him in Rome. 
 
 The emp'ror's and the Princes' temp'ral arm 
 
 He all had summoned to fulfill his will. 
 
FRANZ VON SICKINGEN. H 
 
 Franz. [Mechanically grasping his sword.] 
 
 Is't possible! They mean to go so far! 
 
 And do they think we would submit ? And you, 
 
 Sir knight, who bravely 'gainst oppression rose. 
 
 And, for the sake of your own people's cause, 
 
 A spokesman of the nation, you shall now 
 
 Yourself be subjugated to such dire 
 
 Such ignominious treatment! — Never! 
 TJlrich. Conscious of no guilty 
 
 Upon my pure cause firmly resting, 
 
 At first I laughed at all the warnings. But 
 
 The signs came thick; our friends' anxiety 
 
 Increased, their importunity apace. ^ 
 
 The Emp'ror, I was told, was being pressed! 
 
 Till, finally, from certain sources, I 
 
 Was told I had not e'en a day to lose ! 
 
 Nor was that all, Sir knight, I learned, aye, learned 
 
 That if the Emp'ror seemed to waver 
 
 'Twas all the surer sign of death to me. 
 
 The hatred of the Komanists had fixed 
 
 With poison or with sword I should be slain. 
 
 Regardless of the means^ I was to be 
 
 Wiped off the earth in shortest order! 
 
 I had to flee in haste! Not one more hour 
 
 My life was thought to be in safety. 
 Marie. [Who, like Balthasar, had followed Ulrich^s narrative in 
 
 wrapt attention.] Good God! 
 
 Vlrich. Such was the source of all these tidings. 
 
 So well confirmed from many sides. 
 
 I dared no longer nurse my doubts. I fled ! 
 
 As then, through Germany I rode along 
 
 The Rhine/l came across some trav'lers. 
 
 Proceeding fresh from Rome. Their tidings was 
 
 At Rome the people looked to have me soon: 
 
 The Pope beside himself was in hot rage. 
 
 Aye, ev'rywhere, in cv'ry town I heard 
 
 Of my destruction open converse held — 
 
 Some said I was imprisoned; others, dead. 
 
 When, finally, in safety I rode into 
 
 Mayence and Frankfort, there came 
 
 To meet me, weeping, many friends, 
 
 Who long for lost myself had given up. 
 
16 FRANZ VON SICKINGEN. 
 
 Saluted me like one who dead was thought. 
 
 And sobbing hung upon my neck. 
 Marie. Poor man! 
 
 Fra/nz. [Significantly.} Now are you, Ulrieh, truly knighted! 
 Vlrich. [Proceeding with a painful expression.} 
 
 But many a friend I also met, who now. 
 
 Quite fearfully and timid drew himself 
 
 Away, affrighted by the papal ban. 
 
 Some openly, less frank some others. 
 
 Yet plain enough their meaning Was to me 
 
 That I a burden now was deemed by them. 
 
 And yet, some others, who, in threatening days, 
 
 My voice had given aid and comfort. 
 
 And whom an anchor I had been 
 
 In many a storm — ^their language to me now 
 
 Was that they secretly remained my friends, 
 
 But that, as I would have to admit, could not 
 
 In public by me take their stand. 
 
 They could not wholly break with Rome, they thought! 
 [After a momenVs pause.} 
 
 Sir knight, to meet such treatment from one's friends, 
 
 From men on whom, with ever ready heart. 
 
 One freely poured his warm, unstinted love. 
 
 Oh, that pains sore! 
 Franz. Sir Ulrieh, be a man! 
 
 Be not cast down by th' ev'ry day occurrence — 
 
 How can it sadden your experienced mind 
 
 That you yourself must undergo a trial 
 
 At ODce so natural and obvious! 
 
 Them all does Rome hold fettered in her hands 
 
 Through terror — ^and their interests 'bove all ! 
 
 Know this: Of them each one is after this or that; 
 
 Still oft'ner, anxious not to lose whatever 
 
 He has! E'en he, who seeks naught for himself, 
 
 Has brothers, sisters, mayhap children. 
 
 Whose interests restrain him to break off 
 
 Too sharply with the powers that be. Thus e'en 
 
 The holy bonds of family — 
 
 That noble teacher of morality. 
 
 Us here below by Nature given 
 
 To tutor us upon the duty of man. 
 
 To learn to rise above his petty self — 
 
FRANZ VON SICKINGEN. 17i 
 
 Become a spur and lure to meannesSj 
 
 With th' aid of sentimental sophistry 
 
 Our better selves into the mire dragging./^ 
 
 Well did the Vatican its bus'ness know 
 
 When, at the goal of universal power aiming, 
 
 And the creation of a fighting army. 
 
 That, free from all entangling hindrances. 
 
 On one great aim its complete efforts bends. 
 
 Upon the clergy imposed the sinful duty 
 
 Of celibacy! — Yet you. Sir Ulrich, 
 
 You may not by the painful lessons of 
 
 Experience bitter let your strength be lamed. 
 
 Whoe'er your mighty mission taketh up. 
 
 Such vipers he should, undeterred, let free 
 
 Around his breast coil and uncoil themselves, 
 
 But buckle all the firmer on his mail 
 
 Himself against their pois'nous sting to shield. 
 
 Still firmer buckle on the matchless mail. 
 
 On you bestowed by Nature as her gift! 
 
 The brilliant inspiration, you 'twill ne'er 
 
 Deny! — The truth of that that you proclaim 
 
 That wavers ne'er, however, men may waver. 
 Ulrich. [With animation.] Oh, well I see before me standing 
 
 The last of German heroes! Sickingen, 
 
 With right does fame pronounce you great alike 
 
 In word and deed. Oh, German virtue lives 
 
 With renewed, mighty force in you! 
 Franz. May God forefend I be the last of all! 
 
 Yourself have said that faithful many friends 
 
 You met, who did not turn away. 
 Ulrich. Indeed I met them, yet themselves they urged 
 
 Me with insiatance from the towns away. 
 
 Afraid the blows 'gainst me of secret or 
 
 Of open foes they could not parry. 
 
 Pope Leo, ev'rywhere 'tis said, has sworn 
 
 To look upon and as a foe to treat 
 
 Whoever shelters or befriendeth me. 
 
 You know, the towns — where arts and science 
 
 A mighty increment have won. 
 
 And hence beget a noble love of freedom — 
 
 Are friendly to the doctrine new proclaimed. 
 
 And yet, you know the usual run of things : 
 
18 FRANZ VON sicKiNaEi;r. 
 
 The larger number of the burghers grave, 
 Who rule in all the councils of the towns* 
 Are rather circumspect and wary, avoid 
 Entangled to become by overt acts, 
 And fear with this or that Prince, who, perchance, 
 Obedient to the Pope might requisition me, 
 To come in open conflict. — 
 
 [After a pause.] Perhaps they still 
 A silent shelter might have granted; but — 
 You know that I myself can not lie low! 
 I can not silent be ; with silence can 
 Not purchase sanctuary. — 
 
 IWith increasing fire and cmimation.'] 
 The spirit moves me! I must its testimony give! 
 
 [Pressing his heart.] 
 I can not still what clamors here so loud. 
 The direr, wider spreads the gen'ral stress. 
 That in despair, as frightened by a pest, 
 Sends all to hide within their houses^ 
 In silence sliding past the one the other — 
 Then all the more the spirit's inpulse moves 
 Me 'gainst the devastation stand to take; 
 The more it threatens, all the more to fight! 
 Oh, had I thousand tongues — ^just now 
 With all the thousand I would wish to speak ! 
 I much prefer in poverty pursued 
 To flee from place to place a hunted beast 
 Than Truth renounce by silence! Mayhap 
 That brute force may succeed to crush me down; 
 The spirit's voice it nevermore can hush. 
 
 Franz. There speaks your heroism, Ulrich! 
 
 It seems as if the whole strength of the Age 
 Compressed has been in but two men alone. 
 Yourself and Luther hold the torches up ! 
 What are the rest to these two giant forms! — 
 Give me your hand. What now you just have said 
 My mind with supreme wonder would have filled 
 If I not long as much of you had known. 
 
 Ulrich. Not therefor praise me, Franz! Not few are those 
 Who on that very score have blamed me hard ; 
 And yet, the matter well considered. 
 Nor blame nor praise do I deserve. 
 
fHANZ VON SICKINGEN. Id 
 
 By Nature so constructed that the ills 
 
 Of others hard upon my spirit weigh, 
 
 That more than others* heart the public stress 
 
 My own does wring — I can not change it, Sir, 
 
 It is an inborn impulse! 
 
 [After a pause.] All my friends 
 
 Knew that; 'tis why in fear and dread they drove me 
 
 From to\Vn to town, advice to take with you, 
 
 ^ranciscus. 
 Franz. Aye, no wiser counsel, truly. 
 
 Your friends in trouble could have hit upon. 
 
 Upon a strong wall you have leaned yourself, 
 
 Sir Ulrich; might may cause it to break down, 
 
 But there's no storm can make it quaver. 
 Balth. They doubly wise advised you, Sir. Indeed. 
 
 For them as wise as for yourself. 
 Ulrich. A proscribed man you thus before you see, 
 
 Franciscus ! 
 
 [Stepping tovmrds Franz and taking his hoMd.] 
 Oh, what weighs upon my soul 
 
 Is not the risk of life and limb I run; 
 
 Quite other thoughts. Sir knight, oppress me sore. 
 
 Why should such dangers dog my ev'ry step? 
 
 Why should exposure threaten warm desire 
 
 Devoted to the common weal? These ills 
 
 Pursue my love and homage unto Truth 
 
 And Fatherland. For these to shame must I 
 
 Be brought? For all one man has taken stand — 
 
 And should not all rejoice that one to shield? 
 
 Oh, where is honor, where is virtue gone! 
 
 Oh, where that German strength and valor 
 
 The theme of song and legendary prose? 
 
 Would they impassive him in bonds see thrust 
 
 Who strives the bonds of all to snap? 
 
 Such course the masses brands with dullness. 
 Franz. Be not deterred. — The masses are a child 
 
 That must be first drilled, educated 
 
 Before their better sense can have free play. 
 
 What else can we expect as the result 
 
 Of priestly oppression and besotment? 
 
 Indeed, if that were possible, you must 
 
 Admit, the reasons for complaint against 
 
20 FRANZ VON SICKINGEN. 
 
 The system would not be so strong and grave — 
 
 So far as you're concerned, I only wish 
 
 The public stress as eas'ly as your own 
 
 Could be dispelled. — [Walks up and down meditatively.} 
 Yet what concerns 
 
 Th* affairs of Fatherland and Emperor, 
 
 We shall not yet lose hope and courage quite. 
 
 I'll write to him; shall see him personally; 
 
 An audience I shall have.^ 
 Ulrich. The talk is general ** 
 
 Of the great favor that with the Emp'ror you 
 
 Enjoy. 'Tis stated how, at Aachen, at 
 
 The coronation, he pronouncedly 
 
 Distinguished you 'bove th' assembled Princes. 
 
 And well, indeed, he may no less. — 
 
 Throughout the land it is by all believed 
 
 To you th' imperial crown he owes. 
 Franz. But, now, to you. I place my burgs, them all. 
 
 At your disposal. In them rule at will, 
 
 Like I myself. My word upon it, Sir — 
 
 'Gainst realm and Emp'ror I will hold you free. 
 
 As far as need may be. — Tho', it seems to me, 
 
 From Sickingen there'll none be to demand you. 
 
 Your refuge choose yourself; yet, would you please 
 
 Me, stay you here with me ; let this my home. 
 
 The Ebernburg your shelter be. 
 
 [During the last three lines , all three group them- 
 selves in a semiqircle around Ulrich.} 
 Ulrich. [With exaltation.] 
 
 Oh, Justice's Shelter I shall name it. 
 
 For here alone the right of freedom dwells! 
 
 In song remote posterity shall know it. 
 
 And immortality reward its name. 
 Franz. Nor shall you idle lie^ nor silent. 
 
 Your batt'ries I will furnish unto you — 
 
 The batt'ries that so deftly and opportune. 
 
 Our words into a bullet can transmute 
 
 That far and wide the furthest bull's eye hits. 
 
 And Gutenberg, not ^et a hundred years 
 
 Ago, contrived. A pres»s I'll have set up. 
 
 Bombard the country; do it bold and brave; 
 
 Forewarn, instruct, incite and propagate; 
 
IHANZ VON SICKINGEN. 21 
 
 Enlighten, stir, inflame the nation! 
 
 Show what the mind of man can do. Dispel 
 
 The pitchy night like sun-rays do the mist! 
 
 With willing heart I'll give a helping hand. 
 
 And also, if you will, to Luther write, 
 
 If his pen too the powers seek to bend, 
 
 That here at the Ebernburg he'll find 
 
 Asylum ready and of the press full freedom: 
 
 No longer need he with Electors bother: 
 
 And, at the worst, against these robust walls, 
 
 Th' unconquerable ones of Ebernburg, 
 
 Full many an army its head would have to run 
 
 Before a hair upon his head was touched. 
 Balth. Then, also, at these burgs of ours, you 
 
 Will find not few the heralders inspired 
 
 Of the new doctrine, who, like you, have hither 
 
 Fled. Oh, they will with warmth press you to heart I 
 Marie. And also I would offer what I may. 
 
 However slight! Of music you are fond — 
 
 When cares press you hard, I will their pall 
 
 Dispel and chase away with sweetest song. 
 Franz. Now, come; inspect the new asylum 
 
 That you are now to occupy — 
 
 Besides, I wish to see you privately. 
 Ulrich. How in this circle of the loved 
 
 My heart grows soft, and yet with strength is filled! 
 
 How in my breast's deep depth the pure 
 
 Impatience of the mind is soothed and stilled! 
 
 As 'neath the warm and loving sun-rays 
 
 The seed matures and ripens into fruit. 
 
 So in this moment's tender pleasures 
 
 Maturer strength pervades my structure. 
 
 New springs of life course wildly through my veins^ 
 
 What once was dark to light is ripened now. 
 
 Here first I felt the glow of human speech. 
 
 And what I am — 'tis here will unfold! 
 
 IThe curtain closes.} 
 
22 FRANZ ^ON SICKINGEN. 
 
 ACT II. 
 
 Scene I. — A castle in the neighborhood of Worms, 
 
 The stage represents a knight's state room. To the left is a cah- 
 inet. At its half-open door, in the act of leaving the caUnet and 
 closing the door after him, stands the Imperial Counoilor Hans 
 Kenneb bowing to a person within. 
 Emp. [From within the cabinet.^ 
 
 These matters all with him arranged. 
 
 Apprise me. For all others I shall be 
 
 Engaged. 
 Ren. iBowing.l It will be done, Imperial Majesty! 
 
 {Closes the door of the cabinet and steps forward.} 
 
 A wondrous youth this Charles! Upon his one 
 
 And twenty years' shoulders there sits 
 
 A head full fifty years old and wise, 
 
 So serious-keen, so penetrating-sage, 
 
 Unlike all else upon young age bestowed! 
 
 Tis almost against Nature's course so ripe, 
 
 At such an age so consummate reserved 
 
 To be! Who could his purpose penetrate? 
 
 Or fathom what he means concealed to keep? 
 
 But one thing is quite clear. No common mind 
 
 Dwells in this young man's well controlled being, 
 [Is for a moment lost in meditation.} 
 
 And yet, not one trait has he of you, Max! 
 
 You were quite otherwise! An Emp'ror still 
 
 When back to you my thoughts revert — recall 
 
 You standing here in the bloom of youth — 
 
 The burden of my three score years and ten 
 
 Seems almost to roll off my stooping back! 
 
 In my eyes you have never agfed. 
 
 I ever see you in your fullest youth — 
 
 When your blonde hair in rippling ringlets fell; 
 
 Your eyes, deep blue, broad-orbed, whose brilliant light 
 
 Like two stars shone; your free, clear voice, 
 
 That mild and truthful, music-like, its way 
 
 Found to the hearts of men ; your brov/ — 
 
 A mirror on which all could read'ly read 
 
 What on it written stood, and found to read 
 
 But only noblest thoughts of German stock. 
 
 Oh, Max, why did you die before myself! 
 
FEANZ VON SICKINGEN. 23 
 
 To me it is as if you carried with you 
 Whate'er there was that could my heart delight. 
 The world that now surrounds me, changed is, 
 You were the last of German knights still left. 
 The last man — 
 
 [Perceives Franz von Sicking en approaching.} 
 Yet not so! For what complain! 
 There comes another like to him! A man 
 As Max was, and by him beloved, held dear 
 As much as me! God bless you, gallant Franz! 
 
 Scene II. — Rennee; Fbanz. 
 
 Franz. God bless you, noble friend! It ever was 
 
 You know, a feast to me to see your face. 
 Ren. Indeed our friendship is not of fresh date, 
 
 And has not in the course of time grown grey. 
 
 'Tis good that you are there! You're punctual, Franz, 
 
 And yet impatiently the Emperor 
 
 Awaits you. 
 Franz. Will you announce me to him? 
 
 Ren. Some business matters I was first to settle. 
 Franz. If Charles with me has business, he could 
 
 No more agreeable agent have selected. 
 
 I thank him for the choice. 
 Ren. And so 'twas meant 
 
 By Charles. Yourself and me his purpose was 
 
 To join. It is not business only, — ^no! 
 
 Higji favor is to be bestowed on you 
 
 And that is why the Emp'ror picked out me. 
 
 The heirloom old, by Maximilian left. 
 
 From all his council gathered there at Worms, 
 
 Acquainted with the friendship that us binds. 
 
 For, as he knew a joy to me 'twould be 
 
 To be the messenger of your distinction, 
 
 He also thinks that all the gladder you 
 
 Would take it at mine own than other's hands. 
 Franz. Oh! lo, an expert in the knowledge 
 
 Of human nature seems the younker! 
 Ren. Indeed; above all gracious unto you! 
 
 Sir Franz, the Emp'ror wished with you and you with him 
 
 To speak during this Reichstag held at Worms. 
 
 But having heard about the olden feud 
 
24 FRANZ VON SICKINGEN. 
 
 That once raged hot between yourself and Worms, 
 
 The Emp'ror was of mind it might, perhaps, 
 
 For many reasons inconvenience you 
 
 Were he to invite you to your en'mies' town; 
 
 And, therefore, did he, Franz, for your sake change 
 
 His quarters to this burg for a few days, 
 
 And gave you here his rendezvous. For no 
 
 Elector, think I, he'd have done as much! 
 
 Franz. Such tender thoughtfulness does please me. Tho' 
 The feud I've long forgotten, and, I hope. 
 No less the Wormsers have their hatred. 
 Yet must I thankfully th' intention note. 
 Now, to the point! What does our Emp'ror wish 
 From Sickingen? 
 
 Ren. Sir, to the point! 
 
 As you well know, the loan has fallen due 
 Of twenty thousand guilders gold, that you 
 Advanced the Emperor. But in his purse 
 The ebb as low is as is high the tide 
 Within his heart for you. He cannot pay. 
 The armament 'gainst Francis, the election — 
 Have thus our bags exhausted 
 That th' only ground we clearly see. 
 And which affects th' Imperial Councilors, 
 A ground, though bodiless, yet tangible. 
 That, like a shadow is hollow and void, and yet 
 Is hard unto the touch even if not 
 Felt after — the bottom of the hag! 
 And further armaments, and larger, will 
 'Gainst Francis soon be imperative to us. 
 The Emp'ror, therefore, prays you to extend 
 The loan. A few years more and he will pay, 
 
 Franz. My worthy friend — 
 
 Ren. No, listen to the end; 
 
 I well know what you have to say, Sir Franz. 
 Believe me — Imperial Councilors are so 
 Accustomed with impatient creditors 
 To deal, that we are able, in advance, 
 By heart, upon our fingers' ends, the grounds 
 To enumerate that we quite patiently 
 Must every creditor allow to dish 
 Up ever and anew before us. 
 It is now fort^ years I have borrowed! 
 
FRANZ VON SICKINGEN. 
 
 Since I in Maximilian's service came, 
 
 To borrow was my part. What could you, then. 
 
 You inexperienced friend, say new to me? 
 
 But jokes apart! The Emp'ror knoweth well 
 
 That it must cost you sacrifices to 
 
 Comply. The sum is large. And never yet 
 
 Was gold so tight and scarce as now, 
 
 Now everyone is in the bankers' hands. 
 
 They are the true kings in these days! 
 
 It looks as if a mammoth suction gear 
 
 At Augsburg has been set at work, the which 
 
 Its tentacles around the land has strung, 
 
 And all the gold afloat pumps into its chests! 
 
 Aye, if the bankers, at the time, had not 
 
 Accepted Charles' note, and that of Francis 
 
 Returned protested, and with scorn to boot — 
 
 Who knows upon whose head th' imperial crown 
 
 Would rest to-day. — Oh, never Charles forgets 
 
 How you, the usurers to bend his way. 
 
 Yourself did pawn yourself to them! 
 
 Franz. Oh, mention not the matter. 
 
 Ren. Allow me that I touch it. 
 
 And just because of you but only great 
 Tilings are expected, pray lag not behind 
 Yourself, this time refusing to comply. 
 And Charles submits a double guarantee — 
 He will the sum on land and upon men 
 By letters patent formally secure 
 To you upon such terms that, if default 
 Is made, your profit will be great. 
 And if you should prefer it, Margaret 
 Of Parma all her jewels offers you 
 In pawn, with promise — 
 
 Franz. No more, I pray you, Sir! 
 
 You offer me the noble lady's jewels 
 The diadem of th' Emp'ror's cousin I 
 Shall in my coffer take in pawn ? How long, 
 Hans Renner, can it be since we have met. 
 And what report the good name of Franciscus 
 Could to you so have slandered that to me 
 You such an offer make? You misconstrued 
 My meaning, Sir, when at the start 
 You interrupted me. No, Sir, at your 
 
2« FRANZ VON SICKINGEN. 
 
 First words fay mind was firmly made up. 
 The habits of your office, filled so long, 
 With false presumptions haVe deceivM you. 
 So, then, you may your Charles in my name tell : 
 When he with greedy traders, Jews, or with 
 The Princes of our realm has dealings, then 
 May he of pawning jewels and estates 
 Hold parlance — but may God forfend a knight 
 His duty to his Emperor and Lord 
 Should so far misapprize, and himself hold 
 So slight as from his own Imperial Lord, 
 Who 'gainst the realm's foes seeks himself to arm, 
 A pledge to take or negotiate for one. 
 Expecting of his lands to cheat him. 
 The loan is granted, and still more 
 If you should need and I should able be to raise. 
 Yourself the day of payment fix; but naught 
 Of jewels or estates. Th* Imperial word 
 Is quite enough for me. 
 Ren. [To himself.] A creditor unique! Upon my soul. 
 Now, after forty years' experience, do 
 I for the first time meet a novel case! 
 [To Franz.] You are, as ever, knighthood's flower 
 And mirror! Yes, admitted frankly. 
 Ashamed am I, I followed the routine. 
 And sought to handle you with such a standard. 
 Upon the worn-out tracks of dull experience. 
 One almost does forget that something else 
 Exists which on life's broad highways 
 Is not experienced! Hence the folly 
 Of the wise yet childish errors in the brains 
 Of those grey heads that dull have grown 
 In cleverness. — I had some other things 
 To deal about with you, but first, I must 
 Th' Imperial horn of favor on your head, 
 Franciscus, empty. Know, drawn up lies. 
 Imprinted with th' Imperial great seal, ready. 
 The bright diploma that yourself and stock 
 For ever to the rank of Count does raise 
 In our German realm. 
 
 [Stepping lack and hoioing.] 
 Imperial Count of Sickingent 
 The first am I to greet you by the name; 
 
FRANZ VON SICKINGEN. 27 
 
 And 'tis but only the first rung, the Emp'ror 
 
 Has ordered me to announce, which you now mount 
 
 Upon the ladder of his favor. 
 Franz. [Smiling.] Then, surely, dear friend, I mount not high, 
 
 For the "first rung," as you have called it. 
 
 Remains to me unmountahle. 
 Ren. How? What? 
 
 I fail to grasp your meaning. 
 Franz. Yet 'tis plain! 
 
 I must the favor — 
 Ren. [Anxiously.} You mean not to — ? 
 Franz. Decline, my friend. 
 
 [Renner steps hack stupefied.] 
 I am a simple knight; 
 
 I'm Franz — now see — I mean the same to be! 
 Ren. [In great excitement.} 
 
 I pray you, do you joke? And why should you 
 
 So great a favor scornfully reject? 
 Franz. [Seriously and deliberately.} 
 
 I've told you why. If you with care reflect, 
 
 There lay, in short words, ample sense. My friend. 
 
 Myself my title have I framed together! 
 
 My title is my nam^, my dear Sir! 
 
 Throughout the realm, Franciscus am I called. 
 
 The name is common to good many more. 
 
 And yet but one is ever by it meant. 
 [Slightly ironical.} 
 
 Dull mankind learneth hard !V Should we its mem'ry. 
 
 That organ so resistful, titles new 
 
 Inflict upon, that never in its ear 
 
 Can sound as well as th' old sounds known before? 
 
 Please tell your*Charles I'm not inclined to turn 
 
 Men into school-boys, and compel them 
 
 To learn anew. 
 Ren. By heaven, no! You may 
 
 Not this time listen to your stubborn pride. 
 
 Consider his proud mind! So grave an insult! 
 
 Decline the gift? Reflect what you're about! 
 
 You must not, I insist — recall the word! 
 Franz. .[With dignity.} As this our solid earth's gigantic pile, 
 
 Unshakable does stand Franciscus' word! 
 
 [Milder}. My friend, look not so imploringly at me I 
 
 it is not merely pride that makes me speak. 
 
88 FRANZ VON SICKINGEN. 
 
 Why mention to you all my reasons? Look, 
 When in the breeze my banner waves, a crowd 
 Of Counts of our Empire fall in line — 
 Not one more if I'm made a Count myself, 
 But many less from knighthood's sturdy ranks. 
 And also in other ways it hurtful would 
 Affect me — a runner after titles folks 
 Would dub me, bent on own promotion, 
 Unneeded, bootless to the common weal. 
 No, new distinctions I shall ne'er assume 
 But such as may increase my aptitude 
 To work out greater weal for this our realm! 
 
 Ren. I know you well — the North pole's mound of ice 
 Is easier far to melt with one's own breath 
 Than change your will! — But what am I to tell 
 The Emp'ror is your reason for declining? 
 
 Franz. Tell him the offer I reject — and if 
 He will, himself the reason I shall give. 
 
 Ren. Strange man! Be 't so! But now, I hope, at least 
 More pliant to the Emp'ror's will you'll prove 
 Upon the next, last head — the Emp'ror has 
 Appointed you his marshal in the field, 
 Also his chamberlain and councilor. 
 A life-guard, two score strong of cuirassiers. 
 At his expense is yours. Another man 
 Than you the news would be imparted as 
 High favor. Yet, with you, who, when he gives. 
 Is soft as wax, but, when receiving hard 
 As adamant another course must stead. 
 I therefore, Franz, announce it straight to you — 
 'Twill please the Emperor if you accept. 
 He greatly needs your services, and counts 
 Upon your military skill and strength. 
 Accept, I pray, for when you take you give! 
 
 Franz. One thing is office, rank another thing. 
 For office spelleth "duty;" contrary 
 From rank, it flows not from and to oneself. 
 The crown itself, that noAV the Emp'ror wears. 
 An office 'tis! Whene'er the people speak 
 Of th' office of a Prince or Emperor, 
 In mind they have the mighty mission of 
 The people's shepherd; other thoughts their minds 
 Possess when princely rank is on their tongue. 
 
FRANZ VON SICKINGEN. 29 
 
 The men, who steeped in vainglory, puff up 
 
 Themselves forgetful of the aim and root 
 
 Of their existence. Yes, a field-marshal 
 
 When 'gainst his own foes and the realm's 
 
 The Emperor would use me, yes — 
 
 That office I accept. 
 
 But not, therefore, am I to all work bound — 
 
 I, first of all, stand by the men who stood 
 
 By us — our friends and allies whom I'm bound to. 
 Ren. What clauses, and as many as you please 
 
 You're free to make! It is enough that you 
 
 Accept! But now, I pray you, Franz — 
 
 I now proceed to announce you to the Emperor — 
 
 With a petition charge my errand! 
 
 You granted have what of you was requested. 
 
 And have rejected what was offered. 
 
 Believe me, that he ill can bear. It is 
 
 A thorn pressed in his proud Imperial soul. — 
 
 It almost looks like an exchange — yet, Franz, 
 
 I pray you, if but for my sake alone — 
 
 To soften what is harsh in my report — 
 
 Petition aught! 
 Franz. Well, then! The Emperor 
 
 Is angered at th' Elector Palatine. 
 
 If I not err, a thunder storm now threats 
 
 To break upon th' Elector's head. He is 
 
 My liege-lord, and since olden days has been 
 
 A friend and good to me, as I to him. 
 
 You may, then, tell the Emperor, if on 
 
 Franciscus grace he would confer, he please 
 
 His anger, whether just it be or not. 
 
 With pardon's -tender hand to strangle. 
 Ren. You play with words,, my friend! I gladly shall 
 
 To th' Emperor your wishes carry. But 
 
 That is not a request, as I had meant. 
 
 Instead of for yourself, for others you 
 
 Entreat, as though you wished thereby to prove 
 
 Yourself naught needed, and too high you stood 
 
 For Charles's grace to climb the stairs ot 
 
 The throne on which, in self-sufficient and 
 
 Ecstatic majesty, you sit! Franz, wound 
 
 Not th' Emp'ror! Could you, were you in his place. 
 
so FRANZ VON SICKINGEN. 
 
 Ajfford to use that subject, who for you 
 
 No use, himself can find? 
 Franz. Perhaps you err. 
 
 Perhaps from th' Emperor himself so much — 
 
 So very much I have to ask, that 'tis 
 
 But wisdom if my credit's weight I will 
 
 Not weaken, since, may be, the simple pound 
 
 Of his Imperial favor, thrown at once 
 
 Into the scale, may not be heavy enough 
 
 To lift the weight of the petition that 
 
 I bring. So far, you questioned me. Now let 
 
 Me, changing our rOles, a question put 
 
 To you. What Charles with me did want — I now 
 
 Informed am on; what I with him — as yet 
 
 Not one word did you utter. Tell me, how 
 
 Did he the contents of my letters take? 
 
 How stand things with this Reichstag's great affair? 
 Re7t. Mean you Luther? 
 
 It may be many weeks before the schism 
 
 At all can come up for discussion. 
 
 Till then it will be in the pow'r of none 
 
 To learn what in his mind he harbors. 
 
 One time it seems like this, and then like that. 
 
 And ever it but seems. The grave is not 
 
 So locked as is his breast. You sooner could 
 
 Unlock in Nature's breast her thoughts most hidden 
 
 Than from him learn the deed before 'tis done. 
 
 But, now, allow that I announce you. — Look 
 
 Who's that approaching? Lo! th' Electors two 
 
 Of Treves and Palatine, besides the landgrave 
 
 Philip of Hessen! 
 
 [The three named personages enter,} 
 
 Scene III. — Former; Electors Ludwig of the Palatinate and Abcr- 
 BISHOP RiCHAED of Trevcs ; the Landgrave Philip of Hessen^ 
 
 Ren [Advancing towards them and hoioing.} 
 
 I welcome you, my noble Sirs! — At youy 
 
 Command!— 
 4.rch. Our horses hither. 
 
 Sir Council, carried us from Worms, because 
 
 W§ ffi«^tt?rs qi importance have to troat 
 
Manz von SICKINGEN. 81 
 
 With th* Emperor. 
 
 [To Ludioig.] Better than elsewhere, 
 Sir Palatine, we here can manage your 
 Affair. The Legate, warm friend of my youth. 
 The only one who yet has influence 
 With Charles, and here sojourns with him, himself 
 Advised this step to me, and promise gave 
 To second my endeavors. 
 Ren. Your graces! 
 
 My orders, true enough, are none to announce. 
 
 Seeing his Majesty on matters of 
 
 Importance rendezvoused the knight. And yet, 
 
 I may not, in the presence of such Princes, 
 
 Too close adhere unto the letter of 
 
 My orders. — 
 
 [Bows and withdraws into the imperial cahi/net.l 
 
 Scene IV. — The same, without Renneb. 
 
 Franz. [Takes a step toivards the Count Palatine a/nd hows.} 
 
 Franciscus greets your grace, and he rejoices 
 
 With a full heart to see you look so well. 
 Lud. [Taking a step towards Franz and shaking his hand.] 
 
 God with you, Franz! How goes it in your house? 
 
 How does your pretty daughter? Often 
 / The promise made you and again to send her 
 
 To Heidelberg, to visit my wife's court. 
 
 [While they continue to converse with each other.} 
 Arch. [To Landgrave Philip.] 
 
 Behold ! We meet here both the Kaisers — 
 
 Both Charles — and yonder Kaiser by the grace 
 
 Of popularity, bf mass-applause — 
 
 The German intellectual Kaiser. 
 
 Who knows, of them two, which it is that will 
 
 The other turn to a man of straw. Behold 
 
 The favor that th' Elector stands in with him; 
 
 We almost might our trouble save with Charles, 
 
 Since he's so graciously received here! 
 
 You saw't yourself — his greeting was alone 
 
 For him, while not a nod he deemed us worth. 
 Phil. Prefer it so. It would have gone against 
 
 My grain a greeting to return to him. 
 Arch. I readily believe you. Odd must be 
 
32 FRANZ VON SICKINGEI^. 
 
 The itching in your grace's skin as oft 
 As you behold a knight, who, like him — 
 So wholly has you in his pocket. 
 Phil, [Angrily.] His pocket? Me? What have you in mindt 
 Arch. The obligation is upon my mind. 
 
 Which he — when at the gay and sportive hunt. 
 
 That, meaning but his guns to keep in practice. 
 
 Took place against your Darmstadt — won from you. 
 Phil. You're scoflfing, Sir — 
 Arch. Who scoffs. Sir Philip, pray? 
 
 And if I scoff, God knows, I scoff as much 
 
 At me as at your grace's self! — 
 
 Quite serious; — has it e'er been seen before 
 
 A simple knight a Prince to so toss on 
 
 His horns as he did you? Of you what would 
 
 Have been if,' for the Baden's margrave's sake 
 
 He had not been content to leave you but 
 
 Half plucked ? And have you calculated. Sir, 
 
 How soon the moon and sunshine in your states 
 
 Would constitute their only earthly wealth. 
 
 Were he to call the promissory note 
 
 With which you forcM were to purchase peace? 
 Phil. Your purpose is to sting me; — as you're well 
 
 Aware, the obligation was pronounced 
 
 By Emp'ror Max invalid. 
 Arch. But I've heard 
 
 That in advance the instrument provides 
 
 That all objections you renounce, that rest 
 
 Upon the Emp'ror, or the Reichstag's vote. 
 
 Thus Max's fiat is of no avail 
 
 If Franz, as lately I informed have been. 
 
 Eventually means payment to demand. 
 Phil. All one! I stand upon the Emp'ror's verdict. 
 
 My sword — 
 Arch. Is still the same as 'twas before; 
 
 But otherwise it is with Franz's sword! 
 
 Compared with to-day, his power then 
 
 Could slight be called. Indeed, your grace, it shoots 
 
 Gigantically up, a pois'nous tree, 
 
 And soon its shadow will have swallowed all of us! 
 Phil. And be it so! But do you think it likely 
 
 The Emp'ror could the debt of his ances — 
 Arch. Speak you of th' Emp'ror Charles? Go to, Sir Philip! 
 
FRANZ VON SICKINGEN. 8S 
 
 Have you, perchance, been able to scent out 
 
 The plans of Charles? And do you think the proud 
 
 Young man, the autocratic Lord of Spain, 
 
 Delights so mucli at our power and 
 
 Free hand? Therein the very danger lies 
 
 That threatens us — Charles and Franciscus! 
 
 Behold two cards that never should have been 
 
 Found jointly in the game of the same Age! 
 
 Each supplements the other, and can turn 
 
 Its prop to mightiest acts! It all depends 
 
 Upon the manner accident the two 
 
 Together shuffles. Sir, we may expect — 
 
 If profit-lured — to see, as yet may be, 
 
 Instead of each the other trumping, each 
 
 As high as heaven raise the other. 
 
 Scene V. — Renner stepping in from the Imperial cabinet; the others. 
 
 Ren. My noble Princes, please you pardon me! 
 His Majesty Imperial can not hear you now; 
 He to the castle summoned Franz, the knight. 
 The Emperor expects in two more days 
 To be at leisure and to listen 
 To you at Worms. He is approaching. 
 
 [After making this announcement, at the first words of 
 which Ludwig, breaking off his conversation with Franz, 
 returns to the other Princes, Renner steps to the opposite 
 side of stage towards Franz.} 
 Arch. [With jeering and triumphant mien to the two Princes, who, 
 visibly astonished at Renner's announcement, step hack.} 
 Pray, tell me, do you notice aught? 
 
 [He continues to converse with them in a low voice. The 
 personages are noio so grouped that, at one side of the 
 stage, Franz and Renner, on the other, the three Princes 
 are together.} 
 Ren. [To Franz.} Franciscus! 
 
 With greater grace than I had feared did Charles 
 Receive our dialogue's report. 
 
 [Contiyiues in a low voice.} 
 Phil. Indeed, it is unheard-of! Thus three Princes, 
 Among them two Electors, to dismiss 
 For but a knight! 
 
S4 FRANZ VON SICKINGJEN. 
 
 Lud. It is an odd thing — 
 
 It cannot be denied. 
 Arch. Keep cool! This is 
 
 But the beginning! Mark my words, the knight 
 
 Eventually will ask us all the price 
 
 Of our Electoral hats. 
 Lud. You hate him for 
 
 He is not Romish, but of Luther a 
 
 Supporter. 
 Arch. [Pointing to Philip.] 
 
 This Prince also is friend 
 
 Of Luther, yet not therefore blind! Nor you, 
 
 Your grace, although on purpose you may choose 
 
 To shut your eyes. Have you forgotten how 
 
 At Aachen, at the coronation, Charles 
 
 The knight before th' assembled Princes placed 
 
 Upon his right? 
 
 [They continue tn a low voice,} 
 Ben. [To Frcmz.} The Emp'ror graciously 
 
 Received your prayer for th' Elector, 
 
 And for your sake has he consented. 
 
 Shall I not now the Palatine inform 
 
 What he owes you? 
 Franz. Pray, do not so! It might 
 
 His self-esteem offend — a thing I would avoid. 
 [Glancing at the group of Princes.] 
 
 Besides, I see quite clearly Romish thorns 
 
 Now busy at work, to stir up petty sores. 
 Arch. Say what may please you ! If your liege-lord yonder- 
 , Excuse me, liege-man should I say. 'Tis thus 
 
 That words are readily misprised — almost 
 
 As readily as rOles, and who could tell 
 
 What time may bring! — Tho', then, I meant to say. 
 
 Your present liege-man with such grace just now 
 
 Received you, yet am I not, for that. 
 
 So fascinated by his graciousness 
 
 To fail to feel as insult done to me 
 
 The slap bestowed, for his sake, on my cheek, 
 Lud. [Meditatively.] 
 
 You're partly right in many a thing you say. 
 Arch. I mean also the other half to unfold 
 
 Quite fully to your eyes. But now we must 
 
 Withdraw. It ill would us befit to wait 
 
FRANZ VON SICKINGEN. 85 
 
 liii Charles's archM eye-brows bid us off 
 
 The hall. You, noble Sirs, pray come. Perhaps 
 
 I may be able to impart to you 
 
 Some information that yourselves may judge 
 
 Whether it does or not illuminate 
 
 My words, and what yourselves have here seen. 
 
 [While they vnthdraw, the cabinet opens and the Emperor 
 enters. At the appearance of the Emperor, Renner also 
 withdraws slowly. Franz hows low, and remains in that 
 posture. '[ 
 
 Scene VI. — Chables am,d Fbanz. 
 
 Emp. [At the age of 21; he is dressed in rigid hlack; his hearing 
 and appearance dignified and measured. He contemplates 
 Franz long and attentively.] 
 
 You're welcome to me, Franz! 
 Franz. [Retaining his posture.] Imperial Majesty! 
 Emp. Approach ! 
 
 [Franz rises and takes a step towards Charles.] 
 I'm pleasM with you Franz — 
 
 And also not. Indeed, I'm almost wroth I 
 
 Although I'll readily admit the fact 
 
 That none as yet has reason given me 
 
 For such a wrath. 
 Franz. Imperial Majesty I 
 
 Emp. Franciscus, tell me frankly why 
 
 The proffered countship you decline? 
 Franz. Your Majesty — 
 Emp. I asked you, why? 
 
 Speak freely! 
 Fra/nz. .Well, few words will say it all — 
 
 A free man, independent, have I served 
 
 You; free and independent would I serve you still! 
 Emp. [To himself.] He's proud, by God! 
 
 [Aloud.] Aye, that was short and sharp. 
 
 Perhaps — too sharp, Franciscus! 
 Franz. Sire ! 
 
 Of courtiers your supply is ample. When 
 
 Franciscus you interrogate, meseems 
 
 *Tis truth you wish to learn. Whenever you 
 
 Francsicus question, pray do not expect — 
 Emp. The siren voice of flattery? Be 't so! 
 
St FRANZ VON SICKINGEN* 
 
 In that you* re right, and meet my wishes well* 
 
 Not in the same way may be served by all 
 
 He who well served would be. — But this your free 
 
 And independent service, as you called 
 
 It— 
 Franz. [With warmth.] Is but all the more devoted. Sire, 
 
 It is but all the more unmeasurM! 
 
 The service that is paid for has its bounds, 
 
 But boundless is disinterestedness! 
 Emp. [Sympathetically looking upon Franz, and with empha^sia.} 
 
 You're right — 
 
 [After a pause.] And yet, Sir Sickingen, 
 
 It ill becomes the Emperor that he 
 
 Your debtor should remain — and such I still 
 
 Am since th' election; I deny it not. 
 Franz. Imperial Lord! Th' Elector Palatine 
 
 For my sake you have pardoned — richly with 
 
 Such act the slight account now cancelled stands. 
 Emp. No, Franz! Feign not. You do not so believe. 
 
 Too well you know your own acts' heavy worth; 
 
 And neither I believe so! Keeping faith 
 
 With friendship and with faithful service done. 
 
 You have the occasion been for me my wrath 
 
 To allay; thus have you in virtue's path — 
 
 Which is, above all others, Princes' path — 
 
 Confirmed me more — besides a new friend in 
 
 The Palatine returned to me. You have ^ 
 
 Thus doubly and anew deserved well 
 
 Of me. Therefore petition aught, Sir knight, 
 
 In order that your Emp'ror's debt may shine 
 
 On you. Or do you deem me much too poor 
 
 To give you aught? 
 Franz. [With warmth.] You poor, whose hand within 
 
 Its hollow holds the world's, and this land's fate? 
 
 May God forbid that I with you, my Emp'ror, 
 
 Should play the proud! — If in his grace divine 
 
 Th' Almighty left you a prayer free, would you 
 
 On this or that the costly favor waste, 
 
 On what at man's hand is received with thanks? 
 
 You, sooner, striving for an instant's share 
 
 Of His omnipotence, to that your hand 
 
 Would stretch, that the Creator's full-might needs 
 
 For its accomplishment! That is my case. 
 
iHanz von SICKINGEN. 3t 
 
 Exalted Sire ! Th* election you have mentioned — 
 
 Fulfill the reasons why upon your youthful 
 
 Head Germany the diadem of Christendom 
 
 Did place — the richest man of all alive 
 
 The poorest of your servants then you've turned. 
 Emp. It seemeth the conditions never end. 
 
 In this your land determining the choice 
 
 For Emperor! — And yet from you I fain would learn 
 
 Upon what grounds your choice upon me fell. 
 Franz. Three were the reasons, Sire, and yet but one — 
 
 The first, because you Max*s grandson are, — 
 
 This vouched to us your German mind. The second, 
 
 Because you are the King of Spain, — a guarantee 
 
 That you would never lack fof strength 
 
 Against the Princes' anarchism 
 
 The realm's integrity to safeguard. 
 
 The third, 'tis this, because a youth you are, — 
 
 It was an earnest that you were not yet 
 
 In musty custom's jog-trot hardened, that 
 
 You were not fettered in the bonds of bigotry. 
 
 That free, your young heart movfed by and open to 
 
 The Spirit of the Age, the vassalage would spurn 
 
 That Roman priestcraft would impose upon 
 
 The masters of the world. 
 
 When I upon you look and con the signs 
 
 That cluster thick around you — 
 
 So young and yet the world's throne called to fill; 
 
 A peerless age, at which the highest aims 
 
 To greater still the thirst for action drives; 
 
 Three kingdoms holding in a single hand. 
 
 And thus from birth's first instant armM with 
 
 A weapoj audi as heaven's rare grace 
 
 Bestows on man but only once a thousand years — 
 I have no doubt you are the chosen one, 
 
 Like a Messiah to rejuvenate 
 
 The fate of this our earth and realm's fair life, 
 
 And start them both upon a new career. 
 [tf'jeps hack bowing.] 
 
 This Reichstag, Sire, will expectation test — 
 If you the instrument of heaven know 
 To use, and also heaven's task fulfill! 
 Emp. You speak of Luther, Franz! 'Tis there that 
 I stood awaiting you. You not conceal 
 
38 FRANZ VON SICKINGEN. 
 
 The interest you take in this monk's cause. 
 
 With letters oft you have beseig^d me, 
 
 And calumny itself at work has been 
 
 Yoi./ zealous heart before me to besmirch. 
 
 I have been told — they thought to make me think- 
 That out of love for Luther — fearing 
 
 I might the pass break which I promised him 
 
 To this Reichstag — ^you posted here in 
 
 The neighborhood of Worms five hundred knights. 
 
 And mounted men hold ready at friendly burgs, 
 
 Int'^nding him to free with force of arms, 
 
 If need there be! — You see how little faith 
 
 To the report I lend when now yourself 
 
 I ask that you the lie may give to it — 
 
 Your answer I'll consider proof enough. 
 Franz. And so you may, Sire! Never lie will cross 
 
 Franciscus' lips. The sland'rers tongues — for that ■ 
 
 They are in spite of all — have this 
 
 Once told you naught but what is true. 
 Emp. [To himself.] By God, quite bold! 
 
 [Aloud and with severity.] How dare you, Sickingen. 
 
 So open in my face rebellious acts 
 
 Admit to me, and dreading not my wrath? 
 Franz. No, Sire! The undeserved I never dread. 
 
 For your fame's sake, and for the nation's cause 
 
 Would I have acted — if to act was need. 
 
 One Constance is enough for Germany. 
 
 Not wrath should be my due from you but thanks. 
 
 If I from grave transgression kept you free. 
 
 And though the rashness of your youthful wrath 
 
 Struck me, 'twere better I with wrath were struck 
 
 Than with compunction you! Your Emp'ror's word 
 
 You Luther gave. Such is the majesty, 
 
 That word's effect and force, that straight to law 
 
 *Tis raised, a law that bindeth all, and all 
 
 Are called to uphold, aye, e'en against yourself. 
 
 Your word, that is at stake — ^but not its breach! 
 Emp. [To himself.] Of th' olden generation, now died put, 
 
 Of German heroes that the legends tell, 
 
 A last descendant stands before me. 
 ITo Franz.] Sith with such frankness you yourself admit 
 
 The contemplation of the risky scheme 
 
 Some more confessions you may have to make. 
 
FRANZ VON SICKINGEN. 39 
 
 In Worms, at all the corners of the streets 
 
 A bill was found, that, posted over night, 
 
 Was filled with encouragement to Luther, 
 
 And threats, if violence was done him. The 
 
 P'lacards with fearful admonitions closed. 
 
 Repeating thrice the word: "Bundschuh! Bundschuh!" 
 
 The shocking symbol of the peasant riots! 
 
 Is't possible my noblemen could so 
 
 Forget themselves as e'en against the realm's 
 
 Peace common cause with peasants vile to make? 
 
 Did that from you proceed? I wish to know. Speak out! 
 Franz. Imperial Majesty! — 
 Emp, [Abruptly interrupting,] No, silence! Not a word, Sir knightl 
 
 A dangerous thing, I see, it is to question you. 
 
 I more might learn than profitable 'tis to know. 
 
 'Tis better, for myself and you I hear naught! 
 
 I wish no more to know. Sir knight. — no more on that I 
 [After a pause.] 
 
 1 see it, Franz, the common measure that 
 
 We others measure with, is not for you. 
 
 To you, what to none other, pardoned is. 
 
 I am not wroth at what you just have said. 
 
 Yet odd it is that you — a warrior bold, 
 
 Whom else the wranglings of the priests concerns 
 
 But slight, should so absorbed be in this monk. 
 
 Your mind, I thought, for greatness only thirsts. 
 Franz. And for my country's greatness thirsteth he! 
 Emp. And is it with this monk identified? 
 Franz. So fully that whoever, through impluse and 
 
 Through manly duty, as well as by profession serves 
 
 The one, compelled is the other too to serve. 
 Emp. And even if it were — ^you truly, think 
 
 Against the Church's sacred ordinance. 
 
 From God derived, my mind to turn away? 
 Fra/nz. My Emperor! 
 
 With such an answer do I credit you 
 
 As little as for mine you gave me credit. 
 
 The truth I said to you — to me speak truly too. 
 [Charles makes a motion of astonishment.] 
 
 Exalted Sire! 
 
 Your sight is clear! The band of blindness cai\ 
 
 Before your eyes no priestly artifice 
 
 Praw tight. If Jiere in Europe Uv^ ^ut, 
 
40 FRANZ VON SICKINGEN. 
 
 One foe unto the Pope, that deadly foe 
 
 Is you. By office and by birth you are 
 
 His foe. Hereditary is the feud 
 
 Adown your lineage long descent 
 
 Between the two. And when with glory and fame 
 
 Your ancestors in office bore your staff, 
 
 As heavy, heavier yet than kin or blood 
 
 They weigh. Upon your young head loudly cries 
 
 A heritage of vengeance — five hundred years old. 
 
 Remember our Henry's fate, whose heart 
 
 Broke at Canossa when the knee he bent; 
 
 Remember Barbarossa's life heroic, 
 
 To long protected struggles given o'er, 
 
 In vain the foot-kiss shame to blot away; 
 
 Recall that wonderfully brilliant form 
 
 Of Frederick the Second, against whom 
 
 His own sons Rome set up — thus parricide 
 
 Approving, if but the Emperor was struck! 
 
 So long as Popes there were and Emperors, 
 
 Each in the other's red blood wrote, and with 
 
 His sharpest weapons drew the record fell. 
 
 Around you hover, palpitating. 
 
 The spirits of your ancestors; to you 
 
 Their hands imploringly they raise, and cry 
 
 Oh, happy one! 
 
 Emp. [Interrupting and deeply moved.] 
 
 I pray you stop! Your zeal is carrying you away! 
 
 Franz. [Continues passionately.} 
 
 You, chosen one, the bearer of our sword, 
 In your hands heaven has the power placed 
 From this land's flesh the galling thorn to draw. 
 The martyr's stake, at which we all of us 
 Have bled and with us, aye, our bleeding race. 
 In vain and prolonged torture writhing! 
 You, you can now the deed accomplish! You 
 The weapon swing, the mighty queller wield! 
 Betray not our eyes, with sorrow broken — 
 Oh, trample under foot the priest, against 
 Whom all of us, all peoples' history, 
 At your side stand as bleeding witnesses — 
 Forsooth — if you could peace make with the Pope, 
 Yourself you from the Imperial lineage strike. 
 And consecrate your stock to our nation's curse! 
 
FRANZ VON SICKINGEN. 41 
 
 Emp. [Interrupting as above.] 
 
 Again I pray you, moderate your zeal! 
 
 You almost carry me away — ^yet may 
 
 Not passion rule in such supreme affairs. 
 
 You are aflame, your voice — 
 Franz. Blares like the trumpet 
 
 Which is to announce the judgment of all time. 
 
 Its sound-wave surgeth, seetheth with the clash 
 
 Of the future and the past, loudly beating 
 
 Against the dull-deaf ear of the present. 
 
 — And if it possible could be, if such 
 
 A line of heroes could not move you. 
 
 Think of your blood, of Max, your ancestor. 
 
 Whose life having out-lived six Popes', 
 
 The well-known cry of pain still rounded up: 
 
 And e'en the last one also cheated me! 
 
 Think of yourself, whose very first step stumped 
 
 Upon that heaped-up papal enmity, 
 
 That, meddling, hell and heaven stirred to thwart 
 
 Your candidacy, unable to believe 
 
 You could for Rome's equerry have been born. 
 Emp. If e'er the Pope, presumptuous, stretch his hand 
 
 After my crown's rights temporal — believe me, 
 
 We shall not lack for either shield or sword. 
 
 Another thing it is within the realm of faith 
 
 Against the Church's rule an impious hand to raise. 
 Franz. Sire! Equal false are both these principles; 
 
 And equal dangerous are both to you! 
 
 Supremacy in human conscience's realm — 
 
 Behold th' insidious, poisoned weapon which, 
 
 Triumphant in their struggle 'against th' Empire, 
 
 The Gregorys Und Innocents have wielded. 
 
 Can, truly, such partition satsify you? 
 
 In man's frame-work the body's subject to 
 
 The soul: a corpse the soulless body turns. 
 
 To you such portion gladly they award 
 
 While confidently holding it with firm 
 
 And sure grip by the fetters of the soul! 
 
 So that, when you in struggle's stress rely 
 Most confident upon your scepter's might, 
 
 At one stroke magic, through a thousand threads 
 
 To all the limbs communicated, lo! 
 
 The re-awakened corpse against you's flung, 
 
4» FRANZ VON SICKINGEN. 
 
 Your people they against your might array! 
 A phantom-king upon your throne you sit. 
 So long the curia of Rome in its hand holds 
 The seal upon your people's conscience! 
 
 Emp. And all this is by Luther to be changed? 
 That Augustinian friar, obscure man, 
 Whom you yourself in fear stand, I may 
 With one stroke of my pen annihilate? 
 
 Franz. You err, my Emperor! Learn first this monk 
 To know. On his tongue dwells the Nation's soul; 
 From his eyes flash the burning sparks of Light; 
 Upon his brow, broad as eternity. 
 
 Thought's might and puissant lightning quiv'ring glows; 
 And when he speaks the people's heart is stirred 
 As when the lap of earth the Spring awakes. 
 As birth the laden, pregnant woman's womb 
 With new life's warm presentiment delights! 
 Of mind the mighty ruler he stands forth, 
 His mission's truthfulness attesting. 
 Suppress — him, Sire? 'Tis likelier far the monk 
 May write yourself from crown — and realm to boot! 
 Ripe are my people, hanging from his lips. 
 No Prince so mighty him to annihilate. 
 
 Emp. You mean — 
 
 Franz. Oh, yield not to the Princely illusion. 
 
 The old, forever on its heels returning. 
 You hasten may — to hinder you can not; 
 To shape you can — ^but not to dissipate. 
 You can not turn awry, delay th' inevitable. 
 That with the throb of life strains to unfold 
 Itself ! The birth that's hard, before its time 
 The wise physician's bold cut may set free — 
 Caesarian cut coincidence the section names. 
 But when the hour strikes, the ninth month's peal, 
 Not all the power of earth, in one hand lumped, 
 Can close the mother's womb, or could prevent 
 Her, on the point of birth, to be delivered! 
 The pressure of the ripening, throbbing fruit 
 Its palings bursts; — aye, dead leaps into light 
 Tlie life itself that we would backward thrust. 
 
 Emp. If so it be — what seek you, then, with me? 
 Why do you still in need stand of my aid? 
 
 Fra/nz, To shape, I said, it lay with you, Whole worlds 
 
FRANZ VON SICKINGEN. 4S 
 
 Within the magic circle of that word 
 Lie locked. Time runs its course; howe'er, its course 
 Is otherwise vnth you — and otherwise 
 Against. Woe if against yourself it be! 
 Till now I mentioned to you only Rome; 
 But almost graver dangers are abroad: — 
 — Would you have Luther in the Princes' hands 
 To fall? Yourself the lever furnish them 
 That from their forlorn tackle now redeems 
 The Nation's unit and emp'rorship? 
 In your hands Luther is an instrument 
 Divine the greatness of the land to raise; 
 In theirs to smite the land in ruins with! 
 Oh, do not cast away the Papal rich 
 Inheritance! — ^Dissolved, if hands you join 
 With Luther, are the abbeys, bishoprics — 
 To you, the realm, these livings all revert. 
 With th' increased power in your hands, away 
 Will melt to former insignificance 
 The Princes' arrogant pretentiousness 
 That now your throne o'ershadows. Of the base 
 Abuse of power — by the dint of which 
 The' Imperial mandate and their office they 
 To property have changed, thus theft committing 
 Upon the majesty of th' Emp'ror and 
 The realm — the hour at last would have arrived 
 When ancient Wrong is solvfed into Right, 
 And once again to its rightful owner come 
 The thievings done by the dishonest stewards. 
 — Aloft borne by the people, who, rejoicing. 
 Surround you as a God who spoke the word 
 Creative — then all-powerful you are; 
 A greater Charles the Great, you rear anew 
 This realm's old splendor, one-time unity. 
 Again over this land's domains would then 
 The Emp'ror's hand sway free; to vassals bac*: 
 The rankly grown will reconverted be; 
 Then only will you le what now you seem — 
 An Emperor — and thanks to Luther's hand. 
 Emp. [Abruptly breaking in with involuntary interest, "l 
 And why did he not go to th' Ebernberg, 
 Whither at my request you invited him 
 To meet with Glapio, my confessor, and 
 
U FRANZ VON SICKINGEN. 
 
 With him confer ? Upon your letters, you 
 
 To please, I fell in with the plan. To my 
 
 Word true, I sent you Glapio — but in vain 
 
 For Luther did he wait. Why came he not? Speak! 
 Franz. [With fire.] Oh, Sire! With Truth there's no compoimdingi 
 
 As well compound with th' overtopping fiery pillar 
 
 That marched before the hosts of Israel; 
 
 As well compound with th' arrowy mountain stream 
 
 That, certain of its course, is dashing on! 
 
 I wrote to him; invited him to come. 
 
 Bui that ambassador of God recoils 
 
 Before one fear only — 
 
 His enemies he fears not, he fears 
 
 His friends alone, who, in love's timid cares. 
 
 The weakness crouching in the hearts of all 
 
 Might in his own awaken, and abate 
 
 His zeal for that which in his soul his mind has writ. 
 
 With slackened reins, he wrote, his impulse drives 
 
 Him on his enemies to rush headlong. 
 
 Before th' assembled realm and th' Emperor, 
 
 He boldly would and frank the solemn Truth confess. 
 Emp. [After taking a few steps up and down the room and then 
 pausing, deliberately,] 
 
 You see the man can not be treated with — 
 
 And I shall blindly yield myself to him ? 
 
 Shall, as the tail a comet follows, this 
 
 New doctrine follow on its trackless path? 
 
 Are we a gambler that upon the unknown 
 
 Stakes all for all? — No more, no more of that! 
 
 And other reasons — for a minute's time 
 
 Back-driven by your stormy, headlong speech — 
 
 Regain once more — like unto a tree, that, once 
 
 The storm that bent it's o'er, re-rears its head — 
 
 Their proper mastery resume: 
 
 — ^You spoke of greatness. Is there none but that 
 
 Which you pursue? Three crowns you said this hand 
 
 Combines — and a new world, beyond the seas. 
 
 Is rising promiseful beneath my scepter. 
 
 The claim, of old made by th' Imperial crown. 
 
 The throne of Christendom, it seems is near 
 
 Reality. Yet, as throughout the Universe 
 
 But one thought runs, the force invisible 
 
 Of but one Church it is that holds the whole 
 
FRANZ VON SICKINGEN. 45 
 
 Together and cements its sev'ral parts! 
 One faith the title is of that old claim. 
 One faith joins all the peoples of my realm, 
 Whom language, customs, laws, keep far apart. 
 The Universe's law can but the symbol be 
 Of the one Church, that in its di'mond head. 
 The high Vice-regency of Christ, is bound. 
 ^One Pope, one Emperor. — The two e'en when 
 At war with one another, yet so mutually 
 Dependent on each other as the soul and body! 
 The Roman crown Imperial, what, without 
 That, would it be? At one fell plunge it would 
 Have sunk to a mere territorial princedom. 
 — You say that Luther's doctrine is acclaimed 
 By Germany; yet not of this land only 
 Am th' Emp'ror I. And can you at all imagine 
 Your bleak conceit — which the ideal of 
 A living incarnation robs us of — 
 Could also charm the Spanish people, or 
 The people of Neapel? And shall I 
 With my own hand the bond of unity 
 Destroy that winds itself around my realms? 
 Turn my priest-loving southern souls, my own 
 Hereditary lands, in hate from me? 
 Endanger what my own is now; and I 
 Myself the proud traditions cast away 
 Of universal rule that cluster 'round my crown? 
 Franz. [With fire.] Oh, seek not, at the price of liberty 
 Or of the mind, the greatness that must slip 
 Your hand. The architect who on the mind 
 Of man would rear his dome, must from the mind 
 Itself carve hia* material, lest like boys 
 He acts, who in the sand for flitting hours 
 Their figures draw! These fancy-lines are swept 
 Away, dissolved by the first swell that springs 
 Up from the masses, and that dashes on 
 Your dreams. The Universal Empire draws 
 You on? If, strong in unity, our land 
 InspirM would acclaim you, then your dream 
 Would crystallize. 'Tis not for Spain — 'tis far 
 Above her strength. Germania has this world 
 Before now conquered with her sword, and with 
 Her spirit captured bold. No Pope gave her 
 
4e FRANZ VON SICKINGEN. 
 
 The fief. His own high rank the Pope owes to 
 That Charles, not he unto the Pope. Where is 
 The sward on this terrestrial globe not fed 
 Upon Germania's blood? New life for it 
 We conquered. Ours — if anyone's is this 
 World by the right of sustenance. Through us 
 Alone what through none other you can do! 
 So far as Europe's strands extend, they are 
 By our Germania's stock rejuvenated. 
 It kept unsullied Europe's heart; and from 
 That mother's heart the cry again goes up — 
 The awakening! Stop not to its cry the ear 
 Of Europe — and the echo will reverberate 
 Within the peoples' pantheons. Liberty 
 A seed is that, if wisely nursed in ev'ry land, 
 Is eas'ly propagated; while the plant 
 Of slav'ry, raised by artifice, the soil. 
 That once rejected it, accepts no more!- 
 Oh, sacrifice not unto empty fears 
 The spring whence flows your greatest strength ; 
 Oh, do not sacrifice your crown of crowns ; 
 Oh, sacrifice not Germany to Naples! 
 Emp. Enough! The matter has been weighed, decided. 
 I can not as you would ! Were I a German, 
 Were I the Emp'ror of but Germany, 
 I might, perhaps, feel as you do, and act 
 Accordingly. But who is free in this 
 Tumultuous world? Who does alone decide, 
 Instead of being dictated to imperiously 
 By his position's iron law ? The favor 
 That I conferred on you you spurned; 
 One favor, though, I showed to you that none 
 Alive can boast! I spoke with you as if 
 Communing with myself. I faithful shall 
 The favor carry to the end. — Three reasons, 
 Said you, decided my election; — three 
 The reasons are preventing that I follow you: 
 The first, because I am no German ; next. 
 Because of Spain I am the king; and lastly. 
 Because the crown, that you my crown of crowns 
 Have named, from stock to stock uncertain travels. 
 Did I this scepter hold hereditary. 
 Like that of Spain, and to my own stock could 
 
J'RANZ VON SICKINGEN. 471 
 
 Bequeathe the mighty German realm, Oh, then, 
 
 The matter would another aspect wear. 
 
 But any encroachment on the nomad right 
 
 Of that election — Franz, you might yourself — 
 
 [Pauses and casts a scrutinizing look at Franz.} 
 Franz. [Deliberately. "[ A thrust — against our German freedom deem. 
 Emp. [Taking a step back and colder.} 
 
 See you? And with the Princes' time-soaked rights. 
 
 With the tenacious force that latent lies 
 
 In all abuse, shall I on life and death 
 
 To wrestle undertake ? To stake on such 
 
 A goal my whole life's full endeavors. 
 
 And after painful and uneasy nights, 
 
 In case I triumphed, such a might-begirted 
 
 Crown, such a priceless jewel, in whose splendor 
 
 The crowns combined of Europe all would pale. 
 
 Shall I to a stranger leave for heritage? 
 
 Perchance for a successor of the Saxon stock 
 
 Am I such work to achieve? No, Franz, you see, 
 
 I've thoroughly revolved it, not now alone. 
 
 Though now more carefully than yet before. 
 
 Unshaken stands the first resolve I took. 
 
 Impossible — by that we must abide. 
 
 My word rests on the best considered grounds. 
 Franz. You speak, I'd say, as one who ripely does reflect, 
 
 And then full consciously — the worser part selects! 
 Emp. [Frowning with severity.} 
 
 That word. Sir knight, I'll pardon, but upon 
 
 Condition that I hear it nevermore. 
 Franz. [Bows silently.} 
 Emp. [After a pause, and kindly.} 
 
 Your dashftd hopes embitter you; they make 
 
 You fail in justice. Yet I hope that time 
 
 To rosier thoughts will bring you back again. 
 
 Give up what 'tis impossible to reach. 
 
 There are still other aims to strive for than 
 
 Your own, and not less worthy of endeavor. 
 
 If you but mine unto your own wish would 
 
 Convert, then, Franz, then, through th' Imperial favor. 
 
 As high as none did mount before, could you. 
 
 [Pauses and ca^ts a long penetrating look at Franz, who re- 
 mains motionless.} 
 
 Till then — you are dismissed. Sir knight! 
 
«8 rRAN2: VON SICKINGEN. 
 
 [Franz hows low and departs in silence.] 
 The man is great — but 'tis not greatness that 
 I seek, or that of use can be to me. 
 
 [Returns into the cabinet. The scene changes.} 
 
 Scene VII. — Cabinet of the Papal Cardinal-Legate, located at another 
 wing in the castle. 
 
 The Cabdinal-Legate and Electob-Abchbishop Richaed enter from 
 
 a side-room. 
 
 Arch. It happened just as I to you narrated. 
 Card. 'Tis serious, very serious! — And the issue 
 
 Of their discourse, have you an inkling of? 
 Arch. I left as Charles appeared. But looking back, 
 
 I saw Hans Renner also leave the hall. 
 
 Also the minister not wanted seemed, 
 
 And all alone wished Charles with him to speak. 
 Card. Odd! Yet whate'er the subject they discussed, ■ 
 
 Whate'er the issue may have been — a thorn 
 
 The man is us — of Rome a hater, friend 
 
 Of Hutten, and protector of Reuchlin. 
 Arch. And Luther's best support; the soul of the 
 
 Nobility, that rallies round his flag, 
 
 In whom his hostile temper he instills. 
 
 And 'gainst us all to bitter foes has turned. 
 Card. The thing to do is to extract this thorn. 
 Arch. Proceed to extract. Sir Cardinal. He will 
 
 Quite rudely, bloody too, your fingers prick. 
 Card. What have you in mind? Pray, speak out plain to n.o. 
 
 I know, when danger once you scented have. 
 
 You forthwith plan the way it can be choked. 
 Arch. There is no lack of planning. Long I've planned. 
 
 To-day, somewhat more kind, chance smiled on me. 
 
 It is not much, but yet a germ of hope. 
 
 But you I'd hear first. Could you not stir 
 
 The Emp'ror against Franz? 
 Card. To attack decide 
 
 Him 'gainst Franciscus? Quite impossible! 
 
 Too deep he stands to Sickingen indebted; 
 
 Is yet too young the favor to despise! 
 
 And yet — if others could the knight trepan. 
 
 Involve him in some wrongful act, I might, 
 
FRAN2 VON SICKINGEN. 49 
 
 Perhaps — I say perhaps, Sir Archbishop — 
 
 Induce him quietly to let him drop. 
 Arch [Shrugging his shoulders.} 
 
 If you no further are advanced, then must 
 
 We long the threat'ning danger bear! So long. 
 
 Perhaps, that the hour may have slipped by 
 
 When we the danger might have overcome. 
 Card. Yourself to a chance's smile alluded but 
 
 Just now? 
 Arch. For what 'tis worth I'll use it free. 
 
 You know with what eyes of a just concern 
 
 And fear for long most of the Princes look 
 
 Upon Franciscus. Unto him, alone 
 
 Th' Elector Palatine clung fast. Indeed 
 
 Not few the reasons are why he should thankful be 
 
 To Franz. Now, then, it was in this that chance 
 
 Did favor me to-day. The task was hard; 
 
 But finally he yielded to the fear 
 
 I conjured up in him, his interest 
 
 As Prince as well. We, then, three Princes — I, 
 
 The Palatine and Hesse's Philip — made 
 
 To-day a compact — 
 Card. 'Gainst Franciscus? 
 
 Arch. 'Tis not so called, but is so meant. In all 
 
 Appearance have we an olden treaty but 
 
 Renewed, that formerly concluded was 
 
 'Twixt Hesse, Treves and the Palatinate; 
 
 A treaty of defence that binds us three 
 
 Not only to protect the one the other, 
 
 But also binds each one no peace to make 
 
 Till all the tjjree agree. 
 Card.. [Significantly.] I understand the plan. 
 
 Arch. Now, this is what I mean. Whatever Franz 
 
 May undertake, myself I throw across 
 
 His way — the forces of us three along 
 
 With mine. The danger thus we may reduce 
 
 Before it overtops and overwhelms us. 
 Card. The news is tall that you report, and big 
 
 The fruit may be that from its lap may leap. 
 Arch. In times as evil as the present, one 
 
 As great things trifles oft accepts, esteeming 
 
 As actual help what yet is but a ray of hope. 
 Card. You're right. The times are evil. Never yet 
 
8$ J'RANZ VON SICKINGEI^. 
 
 The Church has been so hard pressed, never yet 
 Such dangers threatened even her palladium 
 As now they do. That which these days will be 
 Delivered of, the fruit whose seed's now sown 
 At large, it threats the downfall of the Church. 
 
 Arch. To whom speak you? To one whose hair the course 
 Of these last years has painted white! That fruit 
 No longer needs to grow or ripen. No. 
 It ripened stands in fullest strength. If Luther 
 Still further inroads should succeed to make; 
 If sv/ift destruction do not swiftly overtake him — 
 The Vatican will sink, a heap of ruins! 
 
 Card. Is't Luther that such fears fills you ;with? 
 
 Arch. Who else? What other than this demon can 
 
 You mean, who these four years with strokes that grow 
 In boldness has assailfed us, the realm 
 Disturbed, and makes recruits in our own ranks, 
 In ev'ry class makes friends? Four years, and still 
 Unpunished goes! 
 
 Card. Leave us alone for that! 
 
 This Luther perish shall. He shall and must — 
 But yet the real danger comes not from. 
 Nor will it die with him. 
 
 Arch. Oh, underrate 
 
 Him not! Do not yourself deceive. This is 
 No heresy. This time the problem is 
 Not a Savonarola or an Arnold 
 To oppose! The German spirit is in arms 
 Against us. Luther is its standard bearer 
 And battles at its head! 
 
 Card. I hold him as you do. And yet the danger 
 Looks not so near to me, as't does to you — 
 And just for that, perhaps, but all the greater. 
 Uneasy are you at the uncertainty 
 Which side the Emperor will take. Also 
 The leaning towards Luther of the nobles 
 And many a Prince alarmeth you. The fact 
 You overlook — our strength lies in the masses* heart. 
 
 Arch. Just there is where he threatens it! 
 
 Card. The task is greater than he could encompass. 
 What took a thousand years to slowly spread. 
 To entwine itself and one become with man's 
 Acquired views, his feelings, habits, and 
 
FRANZ VON SICKINGEK til 
 
 Unconscious does pervade his ev'ry thought — 
 
 Think you all that could really succumb 
 
 To this new and itself destroying doctrine, 
 
 Which Faith on Sense, and Sense on Faith would bank? 
 
 Which rests upon the witness of the mind, 
 
 And yet would bind it to a word that's dead? 
 
 Which takes a hook as sent from God, and yet 
 
 Will dare the same at will to interpret? 
 
 Which grace and scrutiny, two opposites. 
 
 Together jumbles seeking to combine? 
 
 Ne'er from a doctrine that to heaven looks. 
 
 Need her death-blow the Church to apprehend. 
 
 So long as men believe, they will believe in us I 
 Arch. You trust, then, in the Church's immortality? 
 
 Speak ever thus! A hallowed certainty 
 
 Your words my mind, with worry worn, infuse. 
 Card. [Thoughtfully.'] You used th' expression immortality? 
 
 In that word's folds lurk grim Medusa-heads, 
 
 That turn to stone whom in the folds would spy. 
 Arch. — I pray you speak. Express yourself in fullf 
 
 And do not palter in a double sense, 
 
 Admitting danger, then denying it. 
 Card. Do I deny it? Yet's Luther not the name! 
 
 Its source I spy in quite another spring. 
 
 The foe at our very breast lies nestled. 
 
 And we, th' Italian Princes of the Church, 
 
 We nourish it with our very blood. 
 
 Accursed be the Danite gift that us 
 
 The Moslem gave! When with the city's fall. 
 
 The city of Constantine, the fleeing Greeks 
 
 Arrived, transplanting, 'mong us spreading 
 
 The ruins of fheir Arts and Sciences — 
 
 That was the evil's start! With baneful fascination seized, 
 
 Upon its neck hung, God-intoxicated, 
 
 The Bembos, Medicis, the flow'r of all Italy ; 
 
 The serpent young they suckled into strength; 
 
 And from th' eternal laws, with beauty's lines 
 
 Instinct, there flowed a sense of Now and Here on Earth. Of 
 
 A nobler mankind vague forebodings streamed 
 
 Into the breasts of the believers in Hereafter, 
 
 At first our handmaid, all the surer us to trick. 
 
 From Raphael's Madonnas there peers forth 
 
 Old heathendom's superb-divine grimace; 
 
St i'RANZ.VON SICKINaEN. 
 
 And swellingly a dispensation new 
 
 Is preached by Titian's flesh-tints! Out to all 
 
 The peoples went the impulse by us given — 
 
 In you its sanction finding. Reuchlin's struggles 
 
 Revealed at last the impulse new that moved the world. 
 
 Around you look ! Say, who, of Luther, are the props ? 
 
 Was't among the friars' ranks this friar's quarrel 
 
 Its first breath drew, or found its first support? 
 
 The Huttens, Crotuses, Erasmus and Reuchlin — 
 
 'Tis they who greet it with a clam'rous joy. 
 
 The Humanists this great league styles itself, 
 
 By its own name its secret letting out. 
 
 A new Evangel of Mankind — behold 
 
 The kernel hidden in this Proteus that 
 
 Belligerent itself against us fiings. 
 
 With Luther but its first and quickly vanished slough! 
 
 And just the pressure of our own resistance 
 
 Promotes the sloughing process. Slough is cast off after slough; 
 
 It waxes in the transformation; and it stands 
 
 There in the fi'ry glow of its own light! 
 
 Across the world it cries: " 'Tis I!" The hearts of men it seizes; 
 
 Writes Here on Earth, Fruition on its banner ; 
 
 Tears down the heavens; wildly roars through space 
 
 And time, each newly spied-out law of Nature, 
 
 Each find concealed in musty history. 
 
 Into a bolt together welding, hurling 
 
 Into the holiest of our creed, and raising 
 
 An Evangel of Man with resoluteness 
 
 Against that of the Son of Man! 
 
 It then grows hot! Our pinions droop; from us 
 
 The peoples then their faces turn away 
 
 Towards the newly conquered bride — Reality, 
 
 With ardor rushing in her luscious arms. 
 
 Before Fruition's ruddy sun the dim 
 
 Star of Beyond grows pale, it fades away, then 
 
 Draws nigh the night of our theology! 
 
 [He utters the last lines as if pursuing a visio7i ivith hia 
 eyes, and then continues with upwards outstretched 
 arms.'] 
 But no! How wonderful your ways are, Lord! 
 Athwart the darkness unto light you lead us; 
 Turn into triumph that which bodes destruction. 
 Like unto a slave must threat'ning storms themselves 
 
FRANZ VON SICKINGEN. 63 
 
 The throne thus forge that safer carries us. 
 Arch. Your eyes irradiate, and over this 
 
 Earth's face your spirit, God-raised, takes its flight. 
 
 What lies at hand I clearly see, but to 
 
 Your eyes the Future's book lies open wide. 
 
 Unveil that which to you the spirit shows. 
 
 How can the threat'ning danger bring us victory, 
 
 Make safe that which our downfall does portend ? 
 Card. What now gives pain and loads our mind with care 
 
 Is our Princes' hostile attitude, 
 
 Who, envious of our power and failing to 
 
 Perceive the demon, that they unsuspecting nurse. 
 
 Array themselves upon our en'mies' side. 
 
 And long still will this trying trial last. 
 
 But when of time the cycle is complete. 
 
 When that fell hour of danger has drawn nigh. 
 
 The Kingdom of the Anti-Christ, announced before. 
 
 When, wanton, on its own foundation. 
 
 The Human Mind itself has planted — then 
 
 The simultaneous hostile blow will merge 
 
 The Bishop's crosier and the Prince's scepter ! 
 
 The turn-about will then set in — anew 
 
 The temp'ral sword the Church's willing arm 
 
 Will be; repentful to the mother's lap 
 
 It will return; and then, a doul)le chain. 
 
 Inseparable in its iron embrace, 
 
 The temp'ral and spiritual power 
 
 Will strangling wind itself around the head 
 
 Of th' Anti-Christ, the self-poised Human Mind! 
 
 Then stand we safe in all the fullness of 
 
 New might, and in proud Reason's corpse new root 
 
 The Church's splendor strikes, from thence new sap inhales. 
 Arch. Amen! does shout my heart for evermore! 
 
 [The curtain doses."] 
 
M FRANZ VON SICKINGEN. 
 
 ACT III. 
 
 Scene I. — Ulrich's room at the Ebernherg, fitted out with books cmd 
 
 arms. 
 
 Vlrich. [Holding in his hand an open letter that he is staring into in 
 
 wild amazement.] 
 And Luther is pronounced under the ban 
 At Worms! Along with him his followers, 
 And all who give him shelter. Oh, Charles, oh, German realm — 
 The worst that happen could has come to pass! 
 
 [Panises and again looks into the letter.] 
 Th' Elector Frederick himself steps back 
 Afraid; has seized him secretly, and to 
 The Wartburg sent for safe concealment. 
 For fear in sight of th' Emp'ror's wrath he could 
 No longer free and openly protect him! 
 
 {Throws himself into an arm-choAr.] 
 Oh, Germany! Oh, poor fatherland! 
 Our last hope thus is wrecked! Your star of freedom. 
 That o'er your firmament refulgent rose 
 Unto my eyes, sets pale, and once again 
 The dark night of before upon us closes. 
 
 [Pauses looking blank before him.] 
 Its raven plumage, flutt'ring jeeringly. 
 It shroud-like spreads its pinions o'er the land. 
 And silence once more reigns beneath the wing 
 Of death — the silence of the tomb! 
 
 [Covers his face with his hands, and resumes after a pause 
 with deeply moved voice.] 
 Where can there hope be left when the Emp'ror 
 Himself, in Romish hands becomes of death 
 An instrument, the death-blow deals the people's 
 Heart? W'here is hope when e'en the mighty Elector 
 Despairingly withdraws ? 
 
 [Is lost for a while in gloomy thoughts ^ then, jumping from 
 his seat.] 
 
 Where? In him. 
 The Nation! He will rally it around 
 Him. He it is who can and must. Aye, must! 
 'Tis he alone can yet a saviour be. 
 Up and away to him! To hurl in that 
 Heroic soul the torch that burns my own. 
 
FRANZ VON SICKINGEN. 66 
 
 And set his German mind ablaze with rage! 
 He will with mighty hand the fire-brand hurl 
 Into the land, and kindle the wild flame 
 Whence, Phoenix-like, shall Germany emerge! 
 
 [He utters the last lines icith incredsing animation and 
 rushes toicards the door, hut stops reflecting.] 
 And have you well reflected what you contemplate? 
 Your friend would you in such a danger thrust, 
 To a risky struggle drive that ruin fetch ; 
 Perchance, his father's gloomy fate recall? 
 
 [Pauses, and then proceeds in a quandary.] 
 May your restless soul, entangling on 
 Its own path what him lovingly approach. 
 Expose the friend's head in th' uncertain game? 
 
 [Pauses again.] 
 But why with petty doubts, of him unworthy, 
 To waver now and difficulties raise! 
 No choice we have when duty bids. With us 
 The power lies to achieve; the measure 
 Of what we achieve, the duty, none the less. 
 Imperiously prescribM are to man. 
 He can achieve — his duty, hence, it is. 
 Had I ten lives, I'd stake them all the ten ! 
 And dare I from my friend expect aught less? 
 And if we fail, the newly awakened life 
 Of our land in blood being drowned, what worth 
 Could life then have for me, or yet for him? 
 Before such choice, where's room for hesitation! 
 If we succeed, then Freedom's germ is saved, 
 W^hence shoot on shoot shoots off; and e'en if 
 Achievement's highest notch be not attained, 
 The nation's rum still he may avert. 
 
 [Uttering the last lines loith increasing warmth, he rushes 
 towards the door. Before reaching it, the door opens and 
 Marie enters with a took in her hand.] 
 
 Scene II. — Ulbich and Maeie. 
 
 Marie. It is. Sir knight, the hour now when you 
 The ancient poets in our German tongue 
 Have pleased to render me. Not with the songs 
 That are your own you're satisfied to charm us — 
 The noble thoughts, once culled by Rome's and Hellas' bards. 
 
Wl FRANZ VON SICKINGEN. 
 
 The home-bred girl you have disclosed, the blossoms of 
 
 All olden days, all nations, into a garland weaving. 
 
 Whose fragrance sweet our souls to a higher world 
 
 Intoxicated raises. 
 Ulrich. [Who at the sight of Marie had first stood stock-still, and 
 then stepped back a few paces.] 
 
 Oh, God, and yet another trial! 
 Marie, You spoke? 
 
 [She looks at him more attentively, and is frightened at his 
 appearance.] 
 
 Sir knight, what ails you? Speak! You seem disturbed. 
 
 Unhinged; your eyes, aflame, roam wild about. 
 
 I never have thus seen you. For the love 
 
 Of God, what ails you, Sir? I pray you speak! 
 Ulrich. What torture! Oh, what horrid fate is mine! 
 
 Her sire, the father of the well-beloved. 
 
 Shall I expose to ruin and distress. 
 
 Herself, perchance, an orphan make? 
 Marie. [Who has been regarding him with increasing attention and 
 alarm.] You do 
 
 Not answer? Ails you aught? Art angry at me? 
 
 You still are silent, knight? What act of mine 
 
 Deserved such treatment at your hand? 
 Ulrich. I pray — 
 
 Your pardon — noble maid — momentous matters — 
 
 Affliction dire engage my time to-day. 
 
 [Aside.] Oh, did she know the tortures of my soul! 
 
 Oh, could she read within my bleeding heart 
 
 The sentiments I feel for her — and what 
 
 To her undoing I design ! 
 Marie. Aifliction, 
 
 Is't that you said? What can it be? I beg of you! 
 
 It cuts me to my very soul to see 
 
 You, suffering thus, before me standing there. 
 Ulrich. If she her tone but changed. Oh, did she know 
 
 How her mild voice my heart in pieces cuts! 
 
 I — can no more what still I must! 
 Marie. Has some affliction sudden smitten you, 
 
 Confide it unto me! That gives relief. 
 
 You surely know to you I friendly feel — 
 
 I, therefore, ask my share of what afflicts you. 
 
 Myself and father faithfully will help 
 
 You bear it I 
 
FRANZ VON SICKINGEN. 57 
 
 Ulrich, [Who has been visibly struggling with himself^ now reso- 
 lutely. "^ 
 Your pinions free! Shake off with mighty stroke 
 The body's idleness, the natal sin 
 Hereditary with the race of man! 
 
 {Rushes to the door, when it opens and Oecolampadius en- 
 ters.] 
 
 Scene III. — The former; Oecolampadius. 
 
 Ulrich, [Seizing Oecolampadius' hand and stepping back again,] 
 
 Oh, pious Sir, Oh, reverend 
 
 Oecolampadius! It hits you as myself. 
 
 Have you the overpow'ring sad news heard? 
 Oec, [Sorrowfully shaking his head.] 
 
 I know it all. I come just now from Franz. 
 
 Who imparted it to me. 
 Ulrich. [Hurriedly.] And what says he? 
 
 Oec. He nothing said. Upon his forehead lay 
 
 The solemn earnestness of silence deep. 
 
 But to my chamber I betook myself, 
 
 My overrunning heart before our God 
 
 To empty, and in prayer to seek strength. 
 
 Oh, that this day's cup we should have to quaff! 
 Ulrich. [With animation.] 
 
 Despair not! There's nothing lost as yet. 
 
 No Emp'ror yet shall, with his fiat, violate 
 
 Our Nation's stronghold. German hearts still sit 
 
 In German breasts, and our arms still own 
 
 The cunning of their swords to swing! What now 
 
 Oppresses you will soon removfed be. 
 
 [Moves with long strides towards the door but is held hack 
 by Oecolampadius.] 
 Oec. How, Sir, do I correctly understand? 
 
 You can not mean against th' Imperial Majesty 
 
 To aim at a revolt? The doctrine pure 
 
 Of th' Evangel with earthly force to stain ? 
 
 Does't need of that? Do you believe what's holy. 
 
 The light of Truth and Reason, that to us 
 
 Has given been, could ever in the course 
 
 Of time succumb to Error, and could not 
 
 By its own force the upperhand retain? 
 Ulrich. [Still held back by Oecolampadius, takes a few steps hackf 
 and passionately.] 
 
58 FRANZ VON SICKINGEN. 
 
 My worthy Sir! You ill acquainted are 
 
 With history. You're right — 'tis Reason that 
 
 Its contents constitutes, its form is ever — Force! 
 
 [Seeks again to escape, hut is again prevented hy Oecolam- 
 
 padiuSj who steps in his way.'\ 
 Oec. Reflect, Sir knight, would you our faith of Love 
 
 With bloody weapons desecrate? Would you — 
 Ulrich. [Partly nettled and with increasing heat.l 
 My worthy Sir! Think better of the sword! 
 A sword, for freedom swung on high, that. Sir, 
 The Word Incarnate is of which you preach; 
 It is the God, born of Reality. 
 Christianity was by the sword extended — 
 The sword was the baptismal waters, that 
 The Charles we still with wonder name the Great, 
 Baptized Germania with; the sword smote down 
 Old heathendom ; the sword the Saviour's tomb 
 Redeemed! And further back, it was the sword 
 That Tarquin drove from Rome, the sword that back 
 From Hellas Xerxes whipped, and for our Arts 
 And Sciences plowed up the ground. It was the sword 
 That David, Samson, Gideon labored with. 
 Thus, long ago, as well as since, the sword 
 Achieved the glories told by history; 
 And all that's great, as yet to be achieved, 
 Owes, in the end, its triumph to the sword! 
 
 [Forces his way out while Oeoolampadius vainly seeks <o 
 
 restrain him.] 
 
 Scene IV. — Oeoolampadius, Marie. 
 
 Oec. He rushes off! Young lady, follow him; 
 
 Oh, calm his turbulent designs, that, wrought 
 
 Up by too just a pain, are blinding him. 
 
 Bring back the knight to calmer thoughts and faith. 
 Marie. I fain will, rev'rent Sir! I'll follow him. 
 
 I'll seek him in the garden, where 'tis his wont, 
 
 W^hen overpow'red with brooding thoughts, to dwell. [Exit, 
 Oec. [Alone.'] Oh, darksome days! Much mischief I forsee, 
 
 Much guiltless blood at ev'ry corner flowing! 
 
 Oh, Lord, with just hands turn it on the heads 
 
 Of those with whom the heavy guilt does lie. 
 
FRANZ VON SICKINGEN. 60 
 
 Scene V. — Franz von Sickingen's cabinet. Feanz steps in from a side 
 room loith two open letters in his hand, and lays them on a desk. 
 Later von Hutten. 
 
 Franz, Two letters contents-laden! Oh, how diff'rent 
 And yet upon the same point running out! 
 Strasburg and Charles — 
 Charles and Strasburg — both messages 
 So opposite — and yet the two 
 Like two threads, that, by spirits' unseen hands, 
 In one web magically absorb the one the other. — 
 
 [Pauses.] 
 Charles! Charles! You ill my trust have verified. 
 The ban 'gainst Luther! All hope now is dashed 
 From your side! Of this realm th' Emperor, 
 With th* Empire's foes you common cause have made! 
 
 [Walks meditatively up and down.] 
 And Strasburg — bravely have you wrought. 
 My old and sturdy Sloer! You send me here 
 The compact with the great Strasburgian. Of 
 Lorraine the duke is long since joined to me — 
 The duke of Bouillon too. With Strasburg now 
 The whole of th' Upper Rhine is not alone 
 Made certain to my side, a powerful 
 Example it will be; and Swabia's, 
 Bavaria's and Franconia's cities all 
 Will join me readily. 
 
 [Pauses and cogitates.] 
 Distress's pressure worst, resistance's 
 Best means — they both at one hour meet in my 
 Hands fatally, as if upon some demon's call! — 
 
 [Takes again a few steps in the room, lost in thought.] 
 In twain, Charles, by your act you've torn forever 
 Whatever bond — the Nation's Saviour 
 I meant of you to make, the realm's restorer; 
 With aching heart I saw you spurn the offer. 
 Not yet you satisfied would be with cold 
 Indulgence — th' extreme you dealt to us. 
 But just from the extremest peril can 
 The extremest safety unto us be born! 
 
 [Pauses and then starts from the thoughts in which he was 
 lost.] 
 This way, or that! — Yourself the iron dice 
 Have cast to me and you. Firm and without 
 
60 FRANZ VON SICKINGEN. 
 
 Uncertainty my will now rises, and 
 
 Serene peace thrones within by breast, as only 
 
 A purpose clean is able to engender. 
 
 [Ulrich von Hutten enters.] 
 There comes my Hutten! His pure soul shall be 
 My compass to remove the last still lingering doubts. 
 
 [Turns to Ulrich, who, with troubled mien and intently gaz- 
 ing at Franz, has remained standing before him, and pro- 
 ceeds, cheerfully.} 
 My friend! The clouds of melancholy somber 
 Are gathered on your brow. You seem disturbed! 
 Ulrich. You know the weighty news from Worms? — 
 Fra/nz. Indeed I 
 
 Unfortunately I know it but too well. 
 A sad tale 'tis. But let it not depress you. 
 Come, I will tell you an amusing thing, 
 Your somber mien to cheer again with mirth. 
 Ulrich. Amusing ? 
 
 Franz. Yes, indeed! There is a feud on, Ulrich! 
 
 Give me your ear. The Archbishop of Treves, 
 Elector Richard, Luther's bitt'rest foe — 
 The same, who, in exchange for French gold crowns, 
 Th' Imperial crown to Francis would have sold, 
 Had I not put a mighty spoke into 
 His wheel — has given me the handle for 
 A merry treat. — You listen not ! 
 Ulrich. [Starting up.] I do! 
 
 Franz. You know that Hilchen Lorch has long at outs 
 With Treves' Lord been, and gave him notice. Then 
 He captured two of Treves' most noted men. 
 And held them prisoners. Desiring both 
 To be set free, their umpire me they chose. 
 And I the matter settled so that they 
 A ransom had to pay. They pledged themselves 
 Upon the Bible. Lorch, then, on my bond, 
 Tlie two allowed to go. But now the priest, 
 Th' Archbishop, exempts them from their oath. 
 Inhibiting both payment and arrest. — 
 The priest shall pay us through the nose. You will 
 A chance have to shake off your melancholy. 
 But, help me God, you listen not! 
 Ulrich. [Seriously.] Excuse 
 
 Me if, j\ist now, when shipwreck threats the realm's 
 
FRANZ VON SICKINGEN*. <1 
 
 Great cause, and shelterless upon the waves 
 
 The Nation's tossed, such slight affairs affect me little. 
 
 [Pauses, and continues with v>armth.] 
 And should not Sickingen so also affected be? 
 Could it be possible you should delight, 
 At these times* dire stress, your strength away 
 To fritter on a petty feud? How, Sickingen! 
 Could you contented rest within your burgs 
 To idle lie, occasionally a lamb from 
 The greedy wolf's devouring jaws to tear? 
 You shelter me, as Reuchlin once you did. 
 Whom does your shelter fail? Aquila, Hauschein, Bucer — 
 How could I number all the freedom-preachers, 
 Th' oppressed, who in your burgs, from priestly hate 
 And tyranny, from Romish violence, 
 A safe asylum found! But is that all 
 The public stress may look for from your giant strength! 
 Will you, intent upon the shelter of 
 The individual lose from sight the greater whole? 
 Is't that alone the stagg'ring weight, beneath 
 Which bends Germania's freedom, killing and 
 Debasing, gnawing at our people's marrow, 
 Consuming our people's patrimony, 
 With ban and papal bull its limbs benumbing. 
 The greatness of our realm browbeating, and 
 The Nation's upward flight towards the sense 
 Of Freedom, which we wakened up, in one 
 Death-dealing embrace body and soul at once 
 Garrotting, — is that all the Nation's dismal plight 
 May from her foremost hero dare expect? 
 
 [Pauses and continues with vxirmth.} 
 Look, Franz, 'tis only little souls that lag 
 Behind their powers; great men all expend 
 Their fullest faculties in a great cause. 
 And when, within the trembling scale, his strength — 
 Brought to the first touch, measured is with his 
 Great aims — the tremor feels of hesitance, 
 Then, confident does upward swing himself, 
 A demi-god; behind him leaves dust's doubts; 
 Burns up in holy inspiration's fire 
 His earthy part ; and storms, a Titan-like, 
 Olympus e'en! Thus ancient legends tell 
 About the Titan battles, fought eternally 
 
62 FRANZ VON SICKINGEN. 
 
 So long as there are men, and eke a purpose great! 
 
 Franz. Speak plainly, Ulrieh. What's your speech's aim? 
 
 Ulrich. You plainness wish? And yet I spoke to you 
 Of our country's public stress, that but 
 Too plainly this broad realm in sorrow steeps. 
 So that each sense to sight is turned to see it! 
 I must declare, it is an odd mood that 
 To-day I find you in! Not thus erstwhile. 
 When of our common cause we used to speak. 
 You acted, Franz! My faith — ^j^ou seem, to-day. 
 Quite frosty, Franz! 
 
 Franz. You think so? 
 
 Ulrich. Be it what it may. 
 
 That for the moment is yourself from you 
 Yourself depriving — quickly I shall call 
 You back unto yourself. That cold tone lay 
 Aside. Enkindle and inflame your will 
 By proudly contemplating your own strength. 
 Who stands like you, Franz, in the German lands? 
 On you their hopes the friends of the new doctrine pin; 
 On you the eyes are fastened of the Nation's ranks j 
 The whole nobility their leader in you see; 
 The towns seek your alliance, follow confident. 
 Encouraged, when you lead, by your great name; 
 On you alone the peasant places confidence. 
 For ever have you been a rock unto the weak. 
 And when oppression and fell violence 
 With wrath his heart at our station fills, 
 'Tis you he looks to in his hour of need. 
 At your call, pike in horny hand, from all 
 Around a peasant army bounds to life. 
 When in the open field the "five-balls" waves 
 From the far Danube, from Lorraine, from Belt, 
 From th' Alpine slopes, where he in martial songs 
 The fame of your prowesses sings, comes forth 
 Th' enraptured lansquenet, and rallies to your flag. 
 The princes fear you. The hostile camp 
 Itself the Counter-Emperor have dubbed you. 
 Thus homage rend'ring to your power e'en 
 When they on insult are intent. Not so ? 
 
 Franz. 'Tis as you say. 'Tis partly so. But while 
 The oak majestically its shadow spreads, 
 Shall I the axe apply to the strong trunk? 
 
FKANZ VON SICKINGEN. 63 
 
 Vlrich. In power lies the greatest boon of heaven — 
 
 If it be put for a great cause to use ; 
 
 A wretched toy when, used as tinsel merely. 
 
 The arm it lames to which it is confided. 
 
 How? Have you all your days your hard life vexed 
 
 To make it great, and, for its reputation's sake. 
 
 In hundred hard-fought battles hacked your limbs, 
 
 In hundred feuds it painfully, increased. 
 
 With high and low, with noble and plebeian, 
 
 Your name's fame conquered inch by inch — and all 
 
 In order now, when, full-blown, it your head 
 
 A brilliant halo encircles, darts your fame's 
 
 Rays far and wide in burg and hut, to give 
 
 It up a hopeless prey unto despair? 
 
 In vain vagaries fondly now yourself 
 
 To fondle? — CursM be such power! Aye, 
 
 The pow'r of God Himself were sinful vanity 
 
 Had He not turned it to creation! 
 
 [After a pause and with greater moderation.} 
 
 And is it possible you otherwise 
 
 Could think? Have not yourself with me the tracts 
 
 Prepared that mightily the peasant's heart stir up, 
 
 Intended to announce yourself the head 
 
 And leader in the fray? Of Karsthans think — 
 
 Of many a spark that we to flame have fanned! 
 
 Can, at the moment critical, your mind 
 
 Have changed? Your own icill — that which I a word 
 
 Of God have ever prized, unshakable, 
 
 Unchangeable — could you't no longer will? 
 
 No, Franz, impossible ! — You're silent still? 
 Franz. I silence keep because one pleasure feels. 
 
 Through lips as eloquent his own heart clear 
 
 To see within. 
 Vlrich, You're now yourself again! 
 
 Franz. You err. Am now no nearer to you than 
 
 I was at start; and at the start I was 
 
 No further oflF. But speak. Show not the goaly 
 
 But also show the path. So closely tangled 
 
 On earth are path and goal, that each with th' other 
 
 Their places ever change, and other paths forthwith 
 
 Another goal set up. 
 Vlrich. The path is obvious; only one can stead! 
 
 Your banner fly ; an army raise ; around 
 
M Man^z von sickiMeit. 
 
 You call ybut allies; then, in arms, demand 
 
 From th* Emperor the freedom of religion! 
 
 The large towns all will gather 'round your standard) 
 
 The Princes even, those inclined to 
 
 The doctrine new, though envious of yourself. 
 
 Are bound support to lend, at least could not oppose. 
 
 Franz. The Emp'ror's abdication in religion — 
 Is't that you mean that I should conquer? 
 It is just that that I will not! — ^Have care. 
 Lest on such path the game's stake swallow up 
 The gains. 
 
 Ulrich. And what price were too high to pay 
 
 Where freedom of the mind at issue is? 
 
 Franz. [Rising and deliberately. '\ 
 
 Till now has Rome our realm but only ruled — 
 Shall she also partition it? 
 
 [After a short pause.] You know 
 How to the doctrine new I am attached. 
 How with my whole soul Rome I hate; but yet 
 Am I no creed's-doctor ! And just for that. 
 Especially for that, I hate her — she 
 The greatness of our realm changed to decline ; 
 The Nation's one-time splendor to a puny, 
 A wretched shadow dimmed; the pinions clipped 
 With which the German mind sought on its own 
 Track up itself to raise! From the fourth Henry 
 Down to the second Frederick, where was there 
 An Emp'ror, where a heart, that greatness sought 
 To achieve for our realm, and found not at 
 His heel that serpent ? Through her bishops Rome 
 Has ruled the realm; through her collections 
 On palliums, annats, dispensations, she 
 The land drained dry; her bans and priestly wiles 
 The princes gave in hand the means, pretexts 
 Our Emp'rors' hands to weaken, and themselves 
 As autocrats above the realm to raise; 
 She finally has so degraded us 
 
 As to become our own strong neighbor's laughing-stock- 
 No less than me, that ever has incens&d you. 
 And that is what you wish to stop! 
 
 Ulrich. [Impetuously.] My blood, 
 
 Its ev'ry drop I'd gladly stake on that! 
 
 Franz. And is it stopped though we from th' Emperor 
 
FRANZ VON SICKINGEN. 65 
 
 The freedom conquer for the doctrine new? 
 
 Would, therefore, Rome less powerfully rule 
 
 The realm through her priest-princes? Would the land 
 
 Be drainM less within the papist districts? 
 
 Nay, worse: I clearly foresee what would 
 
 Result. Could you rest satisfied to see 
 
 The doctrine pure, the Word, for our salvation 
 
 Announced to us, sunk to — a Princes^ privilege; 
 
 Its bound'ry finding at each dukedom's frontier; 
 
 And, as of accident the whim would throw 
 
 Unto the Pope this Prince, to Luther that, 
 
 To win or to succumb? Would you the common cause 
 
 Turn into a rulers^ cause? 
 TJlrich. [To himself.] True! But too true! 
 
 Franz. Nor yet is all this yet the worst. The worst 
 
 Still comes ! 
 Ulrich. [Desperately.] What demon's raven eloquence 
 
 Dwells on your tongue that e'en the hope of life 
 
 You turn to death within me? 
 Fra/nz. True, the right 
 
 Word have you said! Have care lest we ourselves, 
 
 In lieu of life, the death-blow deal the Nation! 
 
 Such abdication in religion parts 
 
 Our land in twain, not merely in two parts — 
 
 A Romish and an Evangelic — 'twould 
 
 Be torn to pieces in a hundred shreds! 
 
 Dissevered would the last bond be that still 
 
 The Emp'ror and the realm together binds. 
 
 A Kaiser then each Prince on his domain becomes! 
 [Laughing bitterly.] 
 
 And that's the^ reason of their friendship for the doctrine newl 
 
 — You know in what esteem I hold the Princes; 
 
 *Ti3 them, next to the Pope, whom most I hate. 
 
 Abhor. 'Tis they who are the real foe 
 
 Of our realm's and of the public freedom. 
 
 Concupiscent, their boundless-selfish guild 
 
 Its greedy claws distends at ev'ry rank's 
 
 Respected rights across the Empire's broad domain. 
 
 At heart they're equally the foe of nobles, 
 
 Of townsmen and of peasants. If they now 
 
 Hate most the nobles, seem the towns to favor. 
 
 It is because for us they still have fear. 
 
 The moment we cease dangerous to be, 
 
# FKANZ VON SICKINGEK. 
 
 How soon, the towns to oppress, on our side 
 They'll lean ! Ambition only dwells within 
 Their hearts, dead to the common weal, and swells 
 Them like a sponge, the public safety's life-sap 
 Unto itself absorbing. How! Shall I 
 Myself turn into a bridge for their malign 
 Ambition? 'Gainst the Emp'ror's majesty 
 My sword for such a purpose draw? This great 
 Empire, that once did rule the world, and whose 
 Crown still is thought the first in Christendom, 
 Tom up into a hundred bits, at them 
 For booty throw? — May God preserve us, Ulrich! 
 Then would we stand at our Nation's grave. 
 At Germany's and at the German mind'a 
 Funereal bier. The diggers of its grave 
 Would we then be, and not its glad awak'ners! 
 You wish the mind's development to mightily promote. 
 And do you think that if the realm were torn 
 Into a thousand strips, and nothing but 
 A waste of large and small proprietors 
 Became, there could — amidst such landlordships. 
 Capriciously together thrown, and greedy 
 Of rank, each its own aims pursuing — 
 A great mind rise? 'Twere an illusion! 
 No longer strikes the draft of history 
 Across such small proprietorships. You might 
 As well a storm seek to unchain within 
 A cup of water. It the broad expanses loves. 
 Where it may freely rage. Then would have dawned 
 The heyday of the petty trader, who 
 Knows naught above his petty truck! 
 All intellectual rage would shrink and shrivel; 
 The strictly selfish, nearest only hold; 
 In wretchedness the souls would rust; and down 
 Would sink that ancient heroism, that mighty 
 From our country's history resounds, 
 That once the breasts of heroes moved, that in 
 Our ears a call to duty clings; — with it 
 The spirit also dies away. Oh, never 
 From pigmies' wombs could giant souls be strained. 
 Ulrich. Franz, do you of your people's future then 
 
 Despair ? And can your mouth the dark fate of destruction 
 Thus o'er the Nation cast? 
 
FRANZ VON SICKINGEN. 6T 
 
 Frofus. [Deeply moved.} 
 
 I sooner of my own salvation would 
 
 Despair than idly of the fatherland 
 
 Lose hope! Not that I meant! I would my own 
 
 Skin gladly take to market for the great 
 
 Cause, for the true weal of the land. What we 
 
 Desire is an integral, a great 
 
 And powerful Germany ; the wreck of all 
 
 Priest-regiment; a complete rupture with 
 
 The Roman system; our country's church. 
 
 And only one, the doctrine pure; the old 
 
 Communal freedom of the Germans; 
 
 Destruction of the Princes' dwarf-regime. 
 
 And their usurpM intermediation; 
 
 And, resting on the times* potential trend. 
 
 Deep casting in its soul our roots, to raise 
 
 One Evangelic head as Emp'ror of 
 
 Our mighty realm! — Behold, it is but your 
 
 Own soul I raise a mirror to your face. 
 Ulrich. [Shrugging his shoulders.] 
 
 True is the picture. But can you as much 
 
 From Charles hope? Never! Never will he start 
 
 On such a giant enterprise! Can you 
 
 Your mind amuse with sketching fancy-pictures, 
 
 Of whose reality there is no shadow? 
 
 From pious wishes no help comes to us. 
 Franz. [Slowly and with emphasis.] 
 
 On Charles to still hang hope — ^that were insanity. 
 
 No more of him! In his breast Prince and priest 
 
 The Emperor have killed. 
 Ulrich. [Impatiently.] 
 
 On what, on whom, then, do you still hang hope? 
 
 What Prince — 
 Franz. [Interrupting.] Forsooth, on no Prince either! 
 Ulrich. You, locked-up secret, break to me your seal ! 
 
 Not on this rack, I pray you, keep me longer ! 
 
 Your brow a prodigy announces, meditates! 
 Franz. [After walking hack and forth several times across the room^ 
 remains standing pensively before Ulrich.] 
 
 See how it haps that small things oft to great 
 
 Ones lead, and just through their trivial cover. 
 
 Like unto a magic hand-clasp, means become 
 
 Whereby man may the greatest ends work out, 
 
6d FRANZ VON SICKINGEN. 
 
 And chance itself to fate's decree convert. 
 
 — ^Recall you what I shortly said before, 
 
 Anent a pending feud with th' Archbishop of Treves T 
 
 The priest, I said, forbade his townmen both 
 
 To pay or to return to prison. — Why, 
 
 You listen not! 
 
 Ulrich. I do! I do! I heard it. 
 
 Franz. The matter now reverts to me, who, on 
 Their prayers, became their bondsman. Now, 
 Meseems, I thus have solid ground to act — 
 Against th' Elector to declare war. 
 
 Ulrich. And what concerns this paltry affair our 
 Great cause? 
 
 Franz. 'Tis just this matter's paltriness 
 
 That by a Providential dispensation 
 To the great cause the vict'ry gives! I draw 
 With armfed force 'gainst Treves, and none will in 
 The move suspect aught but an ev'ry day 
 Occurrence — a reprisal for a sum. 
 And none, except, perhaps, a prescript from 
 The Reichstag — ^helpless slip of paper — will 
 Th* Elector come to help. Is he alone, 
 One half of my own forces will suffice 
 To take the town. Then, once with Treves within 
 ^Ty pow'r th' Elect'ral hat, torn from the priest's 
 Head, I then boldly clap upon my own. 
 Since long, the temporalization of 
 Th' Elect'ral hats has been the deep-mouthed cry, 
 Throughout the land, with all who dearly hold 
 The new faith. Then, besides, Charles little loves 
 Th' Elector. Has not yet th' intended trade 
 With France forgot. And have I once bagged that 
 Strategic place — and who is there to hinder me? — 
 My whole strength then I can deploy ; call all 
 Our friends to arms around me; boldly, then. 
 The dance I can sustain with th' Emperor 
 And realm. 
 
 Ulrich. It would a hard blow be to Romet 
 
 'Withal, a breach for th' Evangelium ! Still — 
 
 Franz. Allow me that I finish. Prologue but 
 
 It was, the prelude only to still weightier acts. 
 Once does th' Elect'ral hat this brow ornate — ^then — 
 
 Ulrich,. [Intently follovnng Franz.l 
 
FRANZ VON SICKINGEN. i 
 
 Then?— 
 Fra/nz. [Draimng close to Ulrich and in a loud voice.^ 
 
 Am I of the wood that — Emperors are carvfed from! 
 [Ulrich looks dumbfounded; after a short pause Franz proceeds.'] 
 
 I know, high treason are my words. And yet 
 
 It is not idle vanity that lures me. 
 
 May evil overtake me if I be 
 
 By greed to greatness lashed! The Nation's rude 
 
 And dire distress, th' imperious mandate of 
 
 The times alone impel my thought. But one 
 
 Of us two could this arduous task fulfill : 
 
 Charles — or myself ! I see no third who could. 
 
 How would I not have wished that he in his 
 
 Imperial hand the task had seized — myself 
 
 A desp'rate effort made to enlist his heart. 
 
 It was in vain ! Deaf to his Age's call. 
 
 To Germany's loud plaint for freedom dead, 
 
 By priests and Spanish courtiers ruled, he scornefl 
 
 The proffer! — Thus I manfully myself 
 
 Consign unto the irksome fate decreed 
 
 To me. Not on mysoli, on it let fall 
 
 The grave responsibility. Beyond 
 
 My duty to the Eraperor goes far 
 
 The duty that the Nation's life, the cry 
 
 Of woe that now goes up from Grerman freedom. 
 
 The threatened ruin of the fatherland 
 
 Upon me lay ! 'Twas I who him the crown 
 
 Secured. In that a strange fate I perceive, 
 
 A double warning readily revere — 
 
 What I on him have thrown away, away 
 
 Again to take.-«-And now, my friend, I'm ended t 
 
 If you another path to the same goal 
 
 Know of, speak! Ready am I to strike it. — 
 
 *Tis now my turn to ask: You're silent, Ulrich! 
 Ulrich. [Solemnly.] 
 
 I silence keep because my soul vibrates 
 
 With th' hour's overpowering solemnity. 
 
 How great, Oh, hero, stand you there unveiled! 
 
 This hour unto your holy enterprise 
 
 My clean heart and its ev'ry drop of blood 
 
 I consecrate! And though recruits and troops 
 
 I can not to your camp contribute, yet 
 
 Good work I'm ready for. The pen shall drum 
 
fd^ FRANZ VON SICKINGEN. 
 
 The long roll; shall the people fill with awe; 
 
 Shall bring half Germany into your camp, 
 
 The moment you are facfed with the Emperor! 
 
 A giant pinion will I spread, that, eager. 
 
 Shall carry you to your triumphant goal ! 
 
 [They rush into each other's arms, and a while remain in close 
 emhrace.l 
 
 And when will start the feud 'gainst Treves ? 
 Franz. Equipped am I without delay the dance 
 
 'Gainst Treves to start. — 
 
 A seemly force have my recruiters drummed 
 
 Together; and they're gath'ring also 
 
 Near Strasburg, that has just joined hands with me. 
 
 From thence the field against the walls of Treves I'll take. 
 
 But still, of Swabia, and Franconia, and 
 
 The Rhine domains the whole nobility 
 
 To Landau have I first convened, in order 
 
 That firmly they unite with me, and stand 
 
 Me powerfully by in bonds defensive as 
 
 Offensive. Thither I depart upon the spot. 
 Ulrich. I follow you to Landau. 
 Franz. No; I have 
 
 For you some other work. Yourself shall go 
 
 To the Elector Albrecht, to Mayence. 
 
 You know, the Brandenburger is my friend of old; 
 
 Has many a spin with me gone through, and loves you too. 
 
 He is unto the better cause not lost. 
 
 Within his wavering breast, the Old and New 
 
 Are wrestling fiercely. When the new faith 
 
 As Archbishop he persecutes, 'tis done 
 
 In seeming, 'gainst his wish. Go you to him. 
 
 He is the neighbor of the Trevain priest. 
 
 Must not assist him. Then also, I must 
 
 On his domain cross o'er the Rhine. I wish 
 
 The bridges free to find. — It were, indeed. 
 
 The best thing he decide full openly. 
 
 And on the field, with force of arms, to give 
 
 Me aid. 'Twould help appearances, and would 
 
 Some meddlers keep from mixing in th' affair. 
 Ulrich. You think he might so far himself adventure! 
 Franz. Impossible 'tis not ! I long have seen 
 
 Through him. He fain th' Elect'ral hat he wears 
 
 Into a temp'ral would transform upon 
 
FRANZ VON SICKINGEN. 71 
 
 His own head. Also thence to Luther's doctrine 
 
 We see him drawn. But that might long hang fire. 
 
 With him the bridge is long 'tween Wishing and 
 
 Deciding. Tell him that Franciscus says 
 
 'Tis now a deed for deed. He knows my word's 
 
 As good as th' Emperor's or realm's And, now, 
 
 Farewell. Your cousin tell that I expect him ; — 
 
 In camp before the walls of Treves you'll find me again. 
 
 [Embraces Ulrich and departs.'] 
 Ulrich. [Following him with his eyes.] 
 Oh, what a hero ! Not a virtue of all. 
 That in the demi-gods of ancient days. 
 That in the song-immortalized men 
 Of Rome or Hellas we with wonderment 
 ^ Admire, but reproducM is in this 
 One man enhanced in brilliancy ! 
 
 [In the act of leaving, Marie enters.] 
 
 Scene VI. — Uleich; Mabie. 
 
 Marie. You here. Sir knight? 
 
 [Observing him closer.] And what a change has o*er 
 
 You come in this short interval. Your sight 
 
 AflFrighted me, as shortly ago you left 
 
 Me; now I find you again with cheerful mien! 
 
 Your eyes beam joy; the soul's contentment laughs 
 
 From every trait. With deep peace blending wonderfully. 
 
 Warm inspiration's fires flame and light your brow. 
 Ulrich. The reason is I found the soul's physician. 
 
 Who promptly has restored my peace of mind. 
 Marie. [With animation.] 
 
 How happy that makes me. 
 
 [Embarrassed and more moderately.] 
 
 i meant to say 
 
 It makes me very glad — for your sake — mine 
 
 Also — no, for my father's sake. — You must 
 
 Not listen to my words. The rapid change 
 
 Of sentiments has quite confusM me. 
 
 Enough. I'm glad. The fine days come again. 
 
 That I had thought had fled. The happy home, 
 
 The Muses' lovely seat, that you this burg 
 
 Have turned, remains unscathed, and once again 
 
 I listen to your words, when Poetry's 
 
^^ FRANZ VON SICKINGEN. 
 
 Great flights, the songs of old antiquity. 
 To us you deign reveal. 
 Ulrich. My noble maid I 
 
 The day's alarums now the Muses' song 
 Must hush. And yet not so. I falsely did 
 Myself express. Unto reality 
 Wills poetry to raise itself. Its rhyme 
 Recasting, strikes out in the world, I hence 
 Must go; young lady, a flying farewell must 
 I bid you. 
 Marie. [Alarmed.l How? You mean to leave this burg ? 
 Ulrich. This very hour. 
 Marie, [With increasing anxiety."] 
 
 And whither ? Why ? Do you 
 To us again come soon ? 
 Ulrich. I hope not long ! 
 
 I draw to field, young lady. 
 Marie. [Deeply anxious.] To field? 
 
 You, Ulrich? An uprising — ^My presentiment, Oh, God I 
 Ulrich. You Ulrich said? And in that tone? Marie 1 
 Marie. [Falls into his arms semi-consciotis.] 
 
 Ulrich! 
 Ulrich. No! No illusion this can be! 
 
 Marie, you love me as yourself I love! 
 Marie. [Returning to herself, tears herself from Ulrich's arms and 
 flees distracted to the other end of the cabinet, hut looks 
 hack towards Ulrich, who, with hands outstretched towards 
 her, remains where he stood.] 
 Oh, God, did 1 aught say? I nothing said. 
 No, nothing said I ! Do you hear ? — and yet— 
 
 [Transported hy her affection.] 
 Yes — ^yes — I did say! Take wings, 
 My girlish prudery, unworthy simulation! 
 Is he a man like others? Why should that 
 Ashame me that with pride my breast does fill? 
 What can on earth a woman greater do 
 Than him to love ? — Is't not as though my own 
 All that in you is great and noble, all 
 You have achieved and are, I made? in your soul's high 
 Flight took a share ? and shared your mighty deeds, 
 If I love you? — 
 
 When love ennobles and upraises us^^ 
 Wliy not with gladness, like 
 
FRANZ VON SICKINGEN. 73 
 
 To a devotion freely yield to it? 
 
 Yet who am I to dare to you my eyes 
 
 To lift? The pow'r is given us, is't fair. 
 
 Before our eyes the model, 
 
 The luminous, to see, and should we not 
 
 In our hearts' recesses burn for it? 
 
 Yes, Ulrich — I confess it — ^yes, I love you. 
 
 Love you with all the strength of a pure breast, to which 
 
 You stand for the ideal in mankind! 
 
 I love you — and watch, that which, while these words flow. 
 
 My brow inflames is but the blush of inspiration, 
 
 And not of shame I I early felt my heart 
 
 Incline to you, when at the court of Albrecht 
 
 I learned to know you. There, the mirthful child 
 ^ Resistless your earnest mind drew to it ! 
 
 Around your head fame spread a halo, Ulrich, 
 
 That partly frightened, partly fascinated me. 
 
 At mention of your name the best men's blood 
 
 Was stirred; and when you spoke it sounded in 
 
 My childish mind a voice from upper spheres. 
 
 I knew not that I loved you — this alone 
 
 I knew, all other men beside you seemed 
 
 So small, so very small to me! But since 
 
 With us you've been; since all the treasures, that 
 
 Within your heart you carry, you've unlocked 
 
 To me; since you to new life and new thought 
 
 The child's soul nursed to maturity — 
 
 I then became aware I loxhd you ! 
 
 If, Ulrich, you as much can give me, then 
 
 Am I the happiest woman e'er on earth — 
 
 And can you not — it ne'er will sadden me 
 
 That I the greatest could and had to love I 
 Ulrich. Angelic soul! 
 
 Long in my heart, in silence, have I loved you; 
 
 But ne'er from me the secret had you learned. 
 
 Had you not now yourself my tongue set free. 
 Marie. Then will I prize the fright that overcame 
 
 Me, first — and then the courage gave! But, Oh^ 
 
 Recalling it, the shadow falls upon 
 
 My heart again, as if the hand of fate 
 
 The clear notes of my joy was stifling. 
 
 To field you draw. Said you not so? To fieldj 
 
 Perhaps to soJuethiDg far more serious than 
 
74 FRANZ VON SICKINGEN. 
 
 A simple f eud ?*-Against whom, tell mel 
 Vlrich, Against th' Elector Richard, Archbishop of Treves. 
 Marie, Against him only ? Mighty man he is, | 
 
 And yet I'm glad it is against him only. 
 
 I feared worse ! But no more fear for me ! 
 
 Since from my lips my secret fled, meseems 
 
 A ton-weight from my heart I've rollM off. 
 
 It seems fresh courage thrills my frame since then; 
 
 It seems I only now have found myself! 
 
 The sun now shines around me joyfully; 
 
 I laugh into the world; and lovingly 
 
 The world responds into my heart. No! No! 
 
 It can not be — I can not at one time 
 
 Have found, and then have lost you ! Tell me, do 
 
 You, Ulrich, not believe, like me, in destiny? 
 Ulrich. The Universe's scheme may rest on it; 
 
 In its own wisdom planfully itself 
 
 O'erthrowing, it to its own goal leads itself. 
 
 Its own track never losing, despite all 
 
 Its windings — ^just as with the choral dance 
 
 That only seems to go apart and in 
 
 Disorder to dissolve, yet, centrally 
 
 To order e'er obedient, uninterrupted 
 
 Its sinuous course pursues. Aye, e'en what to 
 
 The dull sight of a day as hindrances 
 
 Appears, is but the means to this world's destiny. 
 
 To whose completion it its own plans lays. 
 [Patwes.] 
 
 The individual stands on chance's powder-magazine ; 
 
 Exploding, in the air it hurls him far, 
 Marie. No ; wrong you are ! Because you men for naugnt 
 
 But for the lump have heart, you'll grant nor love 
 
 Nor order but to that. I certain am 
 
 I'll see you again. My heart says so! In laurel wreathed 
 
 You will return from this affray. Before 
 
 My father then you'll step, applying for 
 
 His daughter's hand — and then we'll happy be. 
 Ulrich. [Struggling with himself.'] 
 
 I marry you ? Oh, never ! 
 Marie. Heard I right? 
 
 You will not marry me ? Perhaps you fear 
 
 My father may my hand to you refuse? 
 
 Believe it not! I know he loves you so. 
 
FRANZ VON SICKINGEN. 76 
 
 Aye, almost as myself! He'll not refuse. 
 Ulrich. [Oloomily.] 
 
 It is not that! — I cannot marry you! 
 Marie. [Steps back covering her face with her hands,"] 
 
 Ulrich! 
 Ulrich. [Deeply distressed.'] 
 
 What you, Marie, have told me has 
 
 Undying happiness afforded me — 
 
 iTet, like the phantom of a dream, it must 
 
 Dissolve. Let ev'ry word be wipM out. 
 [Turning his face away.] 
 
 Yourself take back! I can not, may not bind 
 
 You to me! 
 
 [Passionately.] 
 
 Shall I also this sweet child 
 
 Entangle in my life's erratic whirl? 
 
 To daily, trembling, see her head upon 
 
 The wild volcano of my own existence? 
 
 Shall I her also carry down with me 
 
 If, on my erring path, I clash with this 
 
 Terrestrial ball, in hundred pieces dashed. 
 
 And cast away? Oh, never may that be! 
 Marie. [During the last lines her hands from her face removing,] 
 
 You seem to rave! I hardly understand you — 
 
 I hardly heard you. When you — spurned me away, 
 
 I felt as if the roaring billows 
 
 Had broken over me. 
 Ulrich. Mistake me not, Marie! I may not weave 
 
 Your life into this life to struggle used! 
 
 As far as back my eyes can reach, they fall 
 
 On all the wretchednesses men eschew. 
 
 Oh, knew you but one half of my sad fate. 
 
 You would then understand me — and yourself 
 
 Would shrink from the mishap, a wedded bride. 
 
 This tempest-tossM being's fate to share. 
 Marie. How grossly unjust towards yourself you are I 
 
 You, Ulrich, on whom bountifully 
 
 Her gifts by Nature was bestowed, cal? you — 
 Ulrich. [Passionately interrupting her.] 
 
 My heels a demon dogs, the germs themselves 
 
 Of happiness to unhappiness converling. 
 
 But barely eleven years, the gifts perceived 
 
 In me coudexnned me to a living grave. 
 
76 FRANZ VON SICKINGEN. 
 
 Within the cloister-walls of Fulda was 
 
 I, by my father's will, a monk condemned 
 
 My sunny life to mourn away. Five years 
 
 Did I endure. Then, by the spirit seized, 
 
 A lad then of sixteen, the cloister's gloom 
 
 I fled. To Erfurt went, in its high school, 
 
 RenownM wide, with greedy draughts to quench 
 
 My thirst for learning. Violently incensed. 
 
 At such a step, my sire his hand from me 
 
 Withdrew — from strangers' charity thenceforth 
 
 My meager sustenance I had to beg! 
 
 But what cared I ! The golden treasures of 
 
 Antiquity had shortly been unlocked! 
 
 With ardor at its breast I lay, its milk 
 
 Of freedom, that imperishable, fresh 
 
 Flows forth, my mind intoxicating; 
 
 In long draughts from its poets' lustrous thoughts 
 
 The breath of a majestic, freer mankind 
 
 In my distracted soul absorbing! 
 
 But as the comet draws its train along, 
 
 Misfortune followed at my ev'ry step. 
 
 I was at Erfurt not a year — ^the pest 
 
 Came and the school broke up! Pursuing, smiting. 
 
 Away the demon of the scourge drove with 
 
 His flaming sword the teachers and the taught! 
 
 I then went to Cologne, the University. 
 
 In undisturbed bloom reigned there, as still 
 
 They do, the hostile crew to knowledge, the 
 
 Dark-browed and black-robed dastard screech-owl breed. 
 
 That vampire-like the blood of mankind drain. 
 
 There densest Ignorance holds supreme sway — 
 
 The flame-spewing monster that to death consigned 
 
 Arnold von Tungern, Gratius, many more ! 
 
 Whate'er you say — it knows one answer only: 
 
 The flames it ever conjures down on you! 
 
 Not that flame that enlightens and gives warmth — 
 
 Oh, no! It knows none other than the stake's 
 
 And pyre's stupid glow. Be't true or false 
 
 What you may say, its fiat is but — Fire! 
 
 If right — fire ! Wrong — fire ! Fire is its substance. 
 
 From its throat ever tongues of flame shoot up! 
 
 There, having to other youths, devoted, 
 
 The charms of ancient poetry unveiled. 
 
FRANZ VON SICKINGEN. f!% 
 
 The thunderbolt was swiftly hurled at me. 
 
 For that offence with shame I was expelled 
 
 As a seducer of the youth, and a 
 
 Contemner of religion. — The staff again I took. 
 
 In Frankfort-on-the-Oder, distant far away, 
 
 A new asylum of enlightenment 
 
 Was founded, Science's new seat. Among 
 
 The lib'ral arts* instructors here I lived 
 
 With kindred minds in loving circle. 
 
 But here a shocking illness seized my limbs, 
 
 With frightful fangs upon my marrow gnawing. 
 
 Of which I never have been wholly healed. 
 
 Then, hardly cured, my ever restless spirit 
 
 Again possessed my mind. I felt impelled 
 
 To join, with science, life. I grope after 
 
 Reality. I craved to see the peoples. 
 
 The nations, cities of the world. I took 
 
 Ship at an East Sea port. Alas ! the ship 
 
 Could not support me, broke down under mel— 
 Marie. Distressful ! 
 Ulrich. Stripped of all, half famished reached 
 
 I Griesenwald. But thence unworthy men's 
 
 O'erbearing pride drove me away. I went — 
 
 But yet could not their hate escape. I fell 
 
 The prey to foot-pads, and was left half naked 
 
 The road with my own blood to warm, alone, 
 
 In helpless misery amid the winter's frosts. 
 
 The full way's length my trail red-painting, 
 
 I dragged myself a dying waif to Rostock. 
 Marie. Oh, poor man! And not one ray of light 
 
 In that long night? 
 Vlrich. Call it not night, but agony! 
 
 The ray did fall. To my eyes it revealed 
 
 In clear light the purpose of my life — 
 
 An endless chain of agonies the spring. 
 
 It was not long after that time, when fresh 
 
 The hatred of the priesthood flarfid up. 
 
 Anew against the sciences' great strides. 
 
 They felt that at the breath of th' ancients' thoughts 
 
 The monks' creed-tyranny, flagitious web, 
 
 Would melt away, and on the mind's bright wings 
 
 The love of freedom penetrate the masses' heart. 
 
 The germ of freedom in its germ was to be nipped! 
 
is FRANZ VON SICKINGEN. 
 
 The Nestor of Germanic science, Reuchlin, 
 
 As the first victim was selected; on 
 
 His venerable head the deadly blow 
 
 Was aimed. The conflict with Cologne broke out. 
 
 On Reuchlin's works th' anathema of the Church 
 
 Was cast. From Erfurt, Paris, Mayence and Louvain 
 
 The faculties pronounced his book heretical; 
 
 And in Cologne, the German hot-bed of 
 
 The priests' malignity, it was in a 
 
 Procession solemnly consigned to flames. 
 
 All Germany was in intense commotion; 
 
 The champions of the intellect around 
 
 Reuchlin disposed themselves, on th' other side 
 
 The friar-mendicants' and scholiasts' 
 
 Close ranks. Like Ouelph! and Ghihelline! the cry 
 
 Of battle rung, the land in sides dividing. 
 
 My life's aim all at once before my soul 
 
 Unveiled stood, that first was but surmise. 
 
 The impulse towards science, the impulse to reality. 
 
 That until then my breast in twain had torn, 
 
 To a common and a satisfied end 
 
 Now blended were. I now knew why I lived, 
 
 And to what end on th' anvil of adversity 
 
 I had so fiercely been beaten hard ! 
 
 As on the seas the tumbling billow topples down. 
 
 As on the beach the surf is dashfed back again, 
 
 So I, with eyes aflame, with quiv'ring zeal, 
 
 Seized with voluptuous rage, rushed headlong in 
 
 The formidable fray. Of wrath the axe, 
 
 Of irony the spiked club I swung 
 
 With crushing force upon the en'my's head; 
 
 Amid all Europe's loud applause and her 
 
 Uproarous laughter's ring, I pilloried 
 
 His wretched being on the stage of parody. 
 
 But thus a mob of enemies I raised 
 
 Unto myself, who with me wrestle and 
 
 Whom I, opposing, wrestle with incessantly 
 
 For life and death, breast pressing against breast. 
 
 [Pattses. [ 
 To Italy I felt myself drawn irresistibly — 
 I ached upon my en'mies fest'ring sores 
 To place my fingers, and the full abysmal 
 Depth of decay to probe. Again I took 
 
FRANZ VON SICKINGEN. t9 
 
 The staflF. In garments soiled and torn, by th' alms 
 
 Of kindly hearts a beggar's life living, 
 
 I wandered through Bohemia, Austria and Tyrol. 
 [Marie makes a mute gesture of horror.^ 
 
 Oh, maid, shall I narrate to you how, at 
 
 Pavia, once, in my own lodging, I 
 
 By th' enemy beseigM was, myself 
 
 Thought lost, and deeming that my suff 'rings' end 
 
 Had come, my own death dirge in verse had sung? 
 
 How I was captured and escaped, and then, 
 
 By fever's frost and, worse yet, poverty 
 
 And want — that, viper-like, in wild delight 
 
 Fed on my worn-out frame — was broken on 
 
 Their rack. Or how by hunger, that no choice 
 
 Allowed me, a common lansquenet in Italy 
 
 In th' Emperor Maximilian's army I listed ! 
 
 And how — 
 Marie. [In an agony of despair interrupting.l 
 Oh, Ulrich, stop! I can no longer 
 
 The awful story hear! I meant you long 
 
 Ago to interrupt, but fear seemed 
 
 My tongue to lame, to rob me of speech — now, screwed 
 
 To a higher pitch, returns it back to me. 
 
 Distressful is your long-drawn agony! 
 
 Is't possible for suff'ring thus to heap 
 
 Itself upon one head, and that, your own, 
 
 Oh, Ulrich! Is it possible that one 
 
 Man could endure so much ? — I only knew 
 
 The sunshine of enjoyment, and no thought 
 
 Had I of its dark shadows. 'Tis to me 
 
 As though your dreadful tale upon the buds, 
 
 That in my heart toward the joy of light 
 
 To breathe have striven, now, like a simoon 
 
 Falls parching, blighting, 'neath its deadly breath 
 
 One after th' other with'ring! Like a sense 
 
 Of ill presentiment it thrills my frame. 
 
 Oh, stop ! To hear also is to experience ! 
 
 A moment pause — 
 Ulrich. [Interrupting.'] No longer may I pause 
 
 Than did my chain of sorrows make a halt. 
 
 If, maid, it pleased you me to love, you must, 
 
 Before all else, the curse know that pursues me. 
 Marie. On you a curse? You misinterpret me! 
 
SOi FRANZ VON SICKINGEN. 
 
 You will not frighten me. From love for you 
 
 My soul is harrowed by the shocking tale. 
 
 And yet the very sorrow's long-drawn chain 
 
 But all the more unto my woman's heart 
 
 Endears you. The mother loves the child of pain — 
 
 [Stops suddenly,'] L 
 
 No, Ulrich, no! On your head rests no curse! 
 
 Ulrich. No curse say you ? You err, Marie ! It is 
 The mightiest, most relentless one of all. 
 That in the fury of his love, God on 
 A mortal's head hurls down! Oh, ever true 
 Remains the fable told of old! — 
 When once upon a time, in ancient Rome, 
 A pit's mouth yawned, the city threat'ning with 
 Destruction, then the Oracles said this : 
 The dearest only thrown into th' abyss 
 The gods can pacify. And, lo, unto 
 His horse the spurs applying, clad in war's 
 Full panoply, down Curtius leaped, himself 
 Unto the subterranean god devoting. 
 The best must leap into the rift of time; 
 O'er their bodies only does it close. 
 Their bodies only are the seldom seed, 
 From whence the people's freedom, tree luxuriant, 
 Sprouts up the world to bless — and that the curse 
 Is that upon the best is laid, and which, 
 A demon like, themselves, and all whom them approach. 
 To ruin doom! 
 
 Marie. Well, then, that curse will I — 
 
 How gladly! — share with you. The blow that smites 
 You, Ulrich, let it also smite myself. 
 
 Ulrich. Brave girl ! It well befits you so to think ; 
 But would it equally befit myself 
 To such a dreary sacrifice give my consent ? 
 He solitary must the world's path tread. 
 Who to the pow'rs of death himself has consecrated. 
 Marie ! I would no longer with my sorrows' 
 Minute recital rend your tender heart. 
 The veil let's draw upon the sep'rate lines 
 Of the great tragedy that I have lived. 
 But one thing you must know. For many a year 
 I bore in stillness mean, disgraceful poverty. 
 Until my father died. Now fell to me. 
 
FRANZ VON SICKINGEN. 81 
 
 The first born, all my fam'ly's large estate. 
 Was I, whose plans to daily turmoil drove, 
 My brothers, aye, my mother's head to bind. 
 To entangle with my fate? I would not that I 
 My whole inheritance I now renounced; 
 Renounced all joys of life that kindly wealth. 
 Reclining on possession's certainty, 
 With bounteous hands upon our head bestows. 
 A beggar I remained, now as before — 
 And nothing, nothing but my sword and pen 
 I call my own. For brothers and my mother 
 I took that course — and should I less do for 
 Yourself? 
 
 [Ma/rie seeks to interrupt him.'] 
 
 No; interrupt me not, Marie! 
 And if you should succeed my doubts to still. 
 Have you the consequences to myself 
 Reflected? — Until now, when mishap's w^hirl 
 Against life's ragged edges smote me pitiless, 
 I still was happy: I had preserved my mind's 
 Serenity. But if the surf would toss 
 Me henceforth on the crags; if, arm in arm 
 With me, I saw you, dear girl, against 
 The sharp rocks beaten, saw you suffer what 
 Myself have suffered — saw imprisonment, 
 And flight, and exile, all the earthly 
 Ills known to man, in one crown woven, and 
 That crown of thorns forced on your guiltless head. 
 Your head, where only joy, so far, did dwell; 
 If I your brave, angelic countenance 
 Beheld, your pain concealing, doubly thereby 
 Racked ; saw you smiling, my load thus to ease — 
 Think you, Marie, that 1 could bear that? 
 What I have so far borne was but misfortune's show. 
 What were my sufferings then? 
 I then was one, at one with my own self I 
 M^ serene soul, my steeled, goal-conscious heart, 
 My inner happiness — no power strong 
 Enough to rob me of! The untamed force 
 That e'er my soul with pleasure filled, and e'er 
 The blows ot fortune with renew&d pride 
 Repelled — that force you -would forever crack; 
 Division introduce into my breast; 
 
82 FRANZ VON SICKINGEN. 
 
 The shield of adamant, that 'gainst a world 
 Of enemies protected me, untie ; 
 The armor from me strip, so that, at last, 
 The en'mies sword the long and vainly looked-for 
 Aperture to the red life of my heart 
 Could find! Internal discord, only source 
 Of real unhappiness, you would within 
 My breast enkindle. Were I to behold 
 You suffering, Marie, would not each grief 
 A barb be, tearing at the promptings of 
 My heart ; imparting an opposing fever to 
 My soul; in horrid, desp'rate conflict 
 The structure of my fortitude dissolve? 
 Shall I the bitterest dregs of sorrow taste ? 
 To cause you torture shall I call you mine ? 
 The blow that strips me of my only boon, 
 What from me, alone, no evil fate can take — 
 That strength of joy, the soul's serenity — 
 Shall that blow smite me from the hand of love? 
 In front. Death and intensest Hate my life assail; 
 And in the rear. Love threatens with despair's flail! 
 Marie. [Slowly and as if to herself.] 
 
 The maid in one night ripens into woman ; 
 'Tis said one single day of deep affliction 
 The glossy hair upon the skull can whiten. 
 And so, within the period of this hour, 
 I ripened feel — might almost say have aged! 
 
 [Pauses.] 
 The gamut broad of all sensations, from 
 The topmost pitch of rapture, down to pain's 
 Most melancholic depth, within the space 
 Of this brief hour have I traversed swift ; — 
 And heavier far it weighs than years have weighed to me. 
 Be it as you«ay. I much have learned. I've seen 
 The world. Of it a vague sense now I taste. 
 As all creation in the sunshine basks, 
 As in the bonny face of Nature kind 
 The smallest moth in harmless play cavorts. 
 Thus did I think of happiness. I took 
 It for a right, a universal one for all. 
 I see, 1 erred. Quite otherwise as with 
 Kind Nature, that with even hand herself 
 To all gives up, man's hate of man has forged 
 
FRANZ VON SICKINGEN. 83 
 
 The heavy burden of a troubled life 
 
 As this world's law. I see it, happiness — 
 
 That may not be. Though late, yet all the harsher 
 
 The lesson comes to me. My share I will 
 
 Not shirk in the hard fate decreed for all 
 
 The mortals. I will not at the expense 
 
 Of your strength my bosom's joy to reach. 
 
 Or purchase it with mis'ry and despair 
 
 To you. Be it, Ulrich, as you said. But see! 
 
 I still am young; I can thus suddenly 
 
 Not bid adieu to all the hopes of life; 
 
 Not yet, as you, have I been hammered firm 
 ' In this severe school of abnegation. 
 
 My soul to hope still stretches out its hands. 
 
 It still strains upwards to the light of life. 
 
 The hope, Oh, Ulrich, leave to me. Oh, rob 
 
 Me not of it — when you from this feud are 
 
 Returned — 
 Ulrich. A greater feud will then be on. 
 
 Marie. IKnowingly.] 
 
 I know it now. — But see, also that feud 
 
 An end must have. The dreams of life, the sad 
 
 As well as pleasant, all do sometimes end ; 
 
 There's naught but has its end. As now I learn, 
 
 E'en happiness does end ; and why not also 
 
 IJnhappinessf Why should, of all things, that 
 
 Alone equipp^ be with the atrocious 
 
 Privilege of eternity f When, finally. 
 
 From that feud you return, then, Ulrich — 
 Ulrich. [ Passionately.'] Then, 
 
 When of that fray the tumult shall have ceased, 
 
 Life's urging aim been reached, then may I press 
 
 You to my breast, to god-like bliss exalted. 
 
 Alone I would the world have drained, its cup 
 
 Of bliss, as well as that of sorrow! 
 
 A whole world in the compass of one man, 
 
 I would the full fate of mankind in me unite ! 
 
 But yet, I fear. Envious is the hidden, fateful Power ; 
 
 He grants not man upon his own head godly crowns to shower I 
 [Departs precipitately.] 
 Marie. [Long looking after him.] 
 
 Oh, Heaven, him protect! — In all thy wide domains, 
 
 No jewel, like to him, thy starry vault contains ! 
 
8i4^ PRANZ VON SICKINGEN. 
 
 Scene VII. — A knight's reception room in the Town Hall of Landau, 
 The room is ornamented with flags and shields. In the rear, a dais, 
 on either side of which closely crowded roivs of Knights are group- 
 ed, and fill the space up to the foreground. Conspicuous among 
 them is Count William von Furstenberg, Philip von Dalberg, 
 Philip von Rudesheim, Henry von Dahn, Henry von Schwarz- 
 ENBERG, William von Waldeck, Hilchen Lorch, von Benningen, 
 VON Falkenstein, Wolf von Turkheim, and others. Between 
 the two rows, Sickingen. 
 
 Frarn. It's this, ye noble and free men, that I 
 
 With faithful and a truthful heart and mind 
 
 Have long been wishing on your hearts to lay. 
 
 These are the means to meet th' emergency. 
 
 Through this strong compact, the united strength 
 
 Of priests and Princes will be broken up. 
 
 The arbitrary rule, whose shackles press 
 
 Upon all stations, finally abolished. 
 
 Ahove all others, you the free men are 
 
 Of Germany! — Above all others, you — 
 
 Unless to cringing flunkeys to descend 
 
 You're willing — recking not what dangers threat. 
 
 Must lead the way to conquer for the land 
 
 Its old, now trampled-on franchise! — 
 
 E'en danger flees if we are joined in one. 
 
 Now, then, will you, as I have just announced. 
 
 The compact make — 
 Dahn. We will ! 
 
 Dalh. We all of us! 
 
 All. The compact! Compact! 
 Rud. It has been long signed in our hearts; our lips 
 
 Alone now need the binding oath to take. 
 Franz. Good! Sith you will it, let its first clause be — 
 
 We henceforth shall no law obey that is 
 
 Not grounded in strict right, and of the land's 
 
 Acknowledged freedom flieth in the face. 
 8chw. A traitor to us all let treated be 
 
 Whoever hold a diff'rent view from that. 
 Fra/nz. War shall be jointly waged by all of us 
 
 'Gainst him who dares our statutes to oppose. 
 All. So shall it be! We all of us say so! 
 Franz. When any member of our federation is 
 
 By whomsoever warred against, we all 
 
FRANZ VON SICKINGEN. 85 
 
 Are in that feud concerned — with all our pow'r, 
 
 Our property and kin to the last drop 
 
 Of blood. We all for each, and each for all 
 
 Stand pledged, and common is our joy or woe. 
 Turk. That be the law! Our oaths we'll take to that. 
 All. We all for each, and each of us for all! 
 
 A perjurer, shall from the roll of men 
 
 He blotted be, who keeps not that! 
 Franz. So be it. 
 
 A Bible bring that fealty we swear 
 
 Unto the compact, and obedience glad 
 
 ^o him we now our federation's head shall choose. 
 
 The right our chief shall vested be withal. 
 
 For war the federation's full force to 
 
 Engage. In war and peace, his is the leadership. 
 Dalh. So be't! We shall his call obey, glad and 
 
 Observant of the duty freely assumed. 
 All. It is the will of all, unanimous! 
 Franz. [To whom a large Bible has heen brought.'] 
 
 Well, then, your heads now bare, draw the sword. 
 
 And after me repeat the oath, that I, 
 
 Not with my lips, no, with my heart, shall now 
 
 Pronounce! Ye German nobles, swear with me: — 
 
 [He uncovers his head and places two fingers on the Bible. 
 All the others uncover and draw their sioords.l 
 
 By that exalted Freedom, that alone 
 
 In man's eyes worth and splendor lends to life; 
 
 By that exalted Freedom, that from this 
 
 Book fifteen hundred years ago leaped forth, 
 
 And now still richer blessings has for us — 
 All. [Rapturously raising their swords.] 
 
 Swear we! 
 Franz. By our love for country, by that star 
 
 Of man — our honor — that, in shipwreck e'en. 
 
 When as a wreck the hope of life would sink, 
 
 Lights cheerily upon his eyes, and guides 
 
 Them to Posterity's respect — 
 All. [As above.] We swear t 
 
 Franz. By the presentiments of the All-High— 
 
 Revealed to us in Nature and our mind, 
 
 The heart of man to great achievements urge, 
 
 Life's anchor in the storms of life — 
 
 By the warm blood of all the bestj who ever 
 
86 FRANZ VON SICKINGEN. 
 
 For mankind's sake have suffered — 
 
 All. [As alove.^ Swear we all! 
 
 Franz. Firm troth unto this pact, to our chief obedience. 
 And cursed be the man who this oath breaks! 
 
 All, [As above.'] 
 
 Accused! Cursed! All have sworn! The gods 
 Have heard, have witness been to our oath ! 
 [The knights mutually embrace.] 
 
 Franz. Upon the pinions of our oaths, the land's 
 Beloved Freedom takes a mighty flight ! 
 Concluded is the pact. Now choose your chief. 
 
 Dalb. No need of lengthy choice. But you alone — 
 But you alone can our chieftain be. 
 
 8chw. But you. 
 
 Dahn and Falk. And you alone! There is none other! 
 
 Rud. Since long the eye of all of us you've been, 
 You are our arm, you are our shield, our sword! 
 'Tis only you can be our federation's head ! 
 
 All. [Raising their swords.] 
 
 Unanimous, Franciscus, you we choose 
 For our head, and swear to follow you! 
 Upon us call ; you'll ready find us all. 
 
 Franz. As you to me, to you I pledge my troth. 
 So help me God, a true head will I be 
 To you, a Ziska to all Germany. 
 You soon will further hear from me. Meantime, 
 Yourselves hold ready. Increase your armaments 
 With wise and timely means. Above all things, 
 I this enjoin to you: — Let none of us 
 Himself in feuds with any town entangle! 
 Too much have we in former, unripe days. 
 On this score sinned. The times are changed, with them 
 Their laws. The towns it is, whose mighty impulse 
 To right and freedom clearly designates as 
 Our allies in the mighty strife. The love 
 For freedom that the townsmen and the artisans 
 Impels, that lurks behind their walls, and moved 
 Is by the brilliant Spirit of the Age, 
 Makes them the staunchest piers of our structure. 
 Them cultivate. The peasant spare! He's ready 
 The papal yoke, that, heavier yet than on 
 Ourselves, oppresses him, from off his back 
 To shake. Not us : the Princess does he hate. 
 
FRANZ VON SICKINGEN. 87] 
 
 He gladly will with us join hands, if we 
 
 Resort to justice in our dealings with 
 
 His class. The peasant once before did take 
 
 The lead from us against the Princes' tyranny. 
 
 Remember poor Koontz ! He was o'ercome ; 
 
 Yet few years later, we ourselves were forced 
 
 Against Duke Ulrich, Wurtemberg's lord-autocrat. 
 
 Who recked our rights as little as he did 
 
 The toilers' of the soil, the lance to place 
 
 In rest. If ever through the land the God 
 
 ^f War, man-killing, stalk, the realm in two 
 
 Opposing camps up-breaking, then it will 
 
 The peasant be, whose strong fist, timely freed, 
 
 Will arbitrate the iron game, decide 
 
 The final fate of our great realm! Consider that! 
 
 — ^And now, my friends, come to my burg. My scribes 
 
 An instrument will there submit for your 
 
 Approving signature and seal, that I 
 
 Have caused to be preparM, to the end 
 
 In seeming-slight attire our federation's great 
 
 Compact to veil, and the alert suspicions of 
 
 The Princess lull, when wind they get of it. 
 
 Not earlier than the ripest moment may 
 
 Be known what here has founded been this day. 
 Schw. Well, then, we go! Franciscus, hail to you! 
 
 Hail to our chieftain! Hail! 
 All. All hail to you, Franciscus! 
 
 The fortune that before, will henceforth too 
 
 Accompany thy colors! 
 
 [Exeunt all, except Furstenherg, Dalberg, Lorch and Rude- 
 sheim, who group themselves near Franz.} 
 Furs. [Hastily approaching Fra/nz.'] 
 
 Again I warn you, Franz, you make a grave 
 
 Mistake to fail to summon all the nobles 
 
 With their full forces before Treves. It would 
 
 Be quite a large increase of men ; besides. 
 
 It will go hard to soon find them again 
 
 In such a ready mood. — 
 Franz. I tell you, no ! No good, but harm 'twould do 
 
 Your counsel to adopt. Did I with all 
 
 The members of our Landau gathering, 
 
 With all the knighthood of the realm, on Treves 
 
 Now march, I would myself the Princes' eyes 
 
88 FRANZ VON SICKINGEN. 
 
 Unclose, compelling them a common cause 
 
 To see. That were too soon. It would more harm 
 
 Do than the increased forces profit, which. 
 
 Moreover, against Treves I do not need. 
 
 No, Furstenberg, I wish you still th' affair 
 
 A private feud of mine to look upon — 
 
 Such feudSj as oft before, have headed been by me. 
 
 'Tis measure rules the world — ^too much may do 
 
 As much harm as too little. 
 Furs. Well, as you please! I would not with your eyes, 
 
 Expert in triumph, enter in debate, 
 Franz. Now, Lorch, an errand that you'll gladly run. 
 
 The herald call. He ready, waits outside. 
 Lorch: Indeed, I'll gladly run it. Miles I'd leap. 
 
 To quicker such an errand execute. [Exit. 
 Dalh. But r will take my men along. 
 Rud. And I! 
 
 Franz. Nor you, nor he. Your wild impatience curb. 
 
 The next years will enough work give you both. 
 [Lorch enters with herald.^ 
 
 But Lorch shall go with me ; he, anyhow. 
 
 Concerned w^as in this matter from the start. 
 [To the herald.^ 
 
 Step forward, herald ; take this letter, ride 
 
 Full speed with it to Treves; and there announce 
 
 To the Right Reverend, the Prince and Lord 
 
 Ricardus, Archbishop in Treves and of 
 
 The Holy Roman Empire in Gaul; 
 
 Archchancellor of Aries ; Elector ; and so forth — 
 
 That I, Franciscus Sickingen, herewith 
 
 Declare war to him, and mean his sworn 
 
 Foe to remain. The rest he'll in the letter find. 
 
 Tell him to hie him, for I'm close behind. [Exit herald. 
 Furs. Complete was never yet a joy in life. 
 Lorch. How mean you that? 
 Furs. I grieve that I may not 
 
 Be there the face to see that the Right Reverend 
 
 Will make when he the news receives. 
 Franz. You may 
 
 Believe me, it will be no surprise to him. 
 
 Scene VIII. — Balthasae; the former. 
 Bait. [Enters travel-stained and in haste.} SirJ 
 
FRANZ VON SICKINGEN. 
 
 From Strasburg, post-haste I have hither traveled. 
 The news is Rumor with a thousand tongues 
 Abroad proclaiming that you mean to lead 
 'Gainst Treves the army that is there collecting. 
 E'en women, children, too, about it talk; 
 And vagabonds' and beggars' lungs across 
 The land the flame of the alarming news 
 Like bellows chase. 
 
 Franz. This time, my Balthasar, 
 
 Does Rumor tell the truth. I knew it well, 
 Impossible it is to long concealed 
 The purpose keep of such an armSd force. 
 
 Bait. Then, that the purpose was of this outfit? 
 Your mind is made up finally ? Reflect — 
 
 Franz. My friend, there's nothing left now to reflect! 
 J With slackened reins the herald hastes to Treves, 
 ^ The letter carrying that war proclaims. 
 
 Bait. [Meditatively. '\ 
 
 In that case — ^then, there's nothing more to change. 
 'Tis clear to me ! Long I've absent been 
 From you, at Strasburg and elsewhere engaged 
 In troops to gather. Had I with you been, 
 I might quite diff"'rent counsel have advanced 
 To you — less wise, and yet, perhaps, much wiser. 
 But that is gone. So let it be. But one 
 Thing, Sir, I wish you promise me. 
 
 Franz. And what? 
 
 Bait. As now, from Strasburg I was speeding post, 
 I rode first into camp, the army to 
 Inspect. I there met Dietrich Spaeth, your kin. 
 He said to me ^ou meant in a few days 
 'Gainst Treves the field to take. 
 
 Franz. You disapprove. 
 
 Bait. Not half the army, Sir, is yet assembled; 
 
 The reinforcements that from Cleves the knigh.t 
 Of Renneberg, from Brunswick Minkwitz are 
 To furnish you; those that from Luxemburg, 
 The Netherlands, Westphalia and the district of 
 Cologne are now for you recruiting — they 
 All fail. Wait till they all together are ; 
 Then with your whole force march on Treves. 
 You know, on th' Elector's shoulders sits 
 A wise and vig'rous, withal a stubborn head. 
 
IK) FRANZ VON SICKINGEN. 
 
 And strong is he in own and allied troops. 
 
 Fra/nz. And, therefore, should I give him time that both 
 He gather at their best ? Speak, Balthasar, 
 How large is now the army at my command 
 Near Strasburg? 
 
 Bait. Full five thousand horse, also 
 
 Ten thousand foot, and then the tenders of 
 Th' artillery. Besides, with their men rode in 
 The Counts of Geroldseck, of Eberstein 
 And Eitelfritz von Zollern — 
 
 \To Furstenherg.'] Your men, sir. 
 
 Are likewise there. 
 
 Franz. That tallies with my ofl&cers* 
 
 Report. Old man, you are a first-class head ! 
 A general you're not! The codex of 
 All generals has swiftness as the first 
 Of all the ten commandments. Swift I'll break. 
 With rapid moves, into the prelate's lands; 
 Take from him burgs and towns; as surplusage. 
 And not required, will join me before Treves 
 All further reinforcements. The lansquenet 
 Fresh courage feels, and feels relieved if new 
 Troops ever, to the lusty sound of trumpets. 
 Are seen in camp to arrive. Or do you think 
 I should from all the provinces the men 
 To Strasburg drag, and then to Treves should tramp 
 Then back? Would you a crah in Franz's flag 
 Insert? I rather imitate the hounds, 
 That on the game from all sides throw themselves. 
 Of all the rendezvous, the hest I know 
 Of is the enemy's entrails! Up, then. 
 Ye merry hunters! Hi*h game now's your prize! 
 In freedom's bugle blow. It is the mort 
 Of all the hated despots of the realm! 
 
 All. To hunt! To hunt! The trackers at their post. 
 The foe to quell with our victorious host ! 
 
 [Curtain closes.'] 
 
FRANZ VON SICKINGEN. 91 
 
 ACT IV. 
 
 Scene 1. — A hall in the castle of Palsgrave Ludivig, the Elector Pal- 
 atine, at Heidelberg. Enter the Elector's Secretaey and a 
 Knight of the Archbishop of Treves. Later the Electob himself. 
 
 Sec. So closely pressed does your master feel? 
 
 Speak on ; be not so chary of your words. 
 Knt. So closely pressM that to death I rode 
 
 Two horses, but a breath or two to gain 
 
 On time. The town may any moment fall. 
 
 Where is your master, and why do you not 
 
 Lead me to him ? 
 Sec. He soon will here be. 
 
 Have patience, but, meanwhile, be kind enough 
 
 To satisfy my keen curiosity. 
 
 If such a goodly army had your lord, 
 
 Why did he not go out to meet the knight. 
 
 The town with his own breast thus shield, and thus 
 
 The dangers both avoid, of famine and 
 
 Of treason ? 
 Ent. Surely, master Secretary, 
 
 Were you a general, you would without 
 
 A doubt in open battle Franz defeat ! 
 
 Who questions that? But common mortals as 
 
 The rest of us, are not so bold. Where that 
 
 Knights leads, each common soldier grows to a hero. 
 
 And fights as if he crowns would win. But, lo, 
 
 Here comes your noble Lord. Hail, Sir, to you! 
 
 [Enters the Palsgrave, and the Knight bows low,"} 
 Lud. Are you the Igiight from Treves? 
 Knt, Yes, Sirj I am. 
 
 Whom to your Grace, in his great stress my Lord 
 
 Has sent, you of the treaties to remind. 
 Lud. How stands your master's case ? Speak on ! 
 Knt, Your Grace, 
 
 The flood to overflowing swells. The grim 
 
 Knight holds our Treves in iron embrace fast, 
 
 And presses her so savage to his heart. 
 
 Her iron corsage cracks, crushed by his love's 
 
 Intensity. While now I speak, the blood 
 
 Of nobles flows, the walls under the blows 
 
 Of cannons shake. None knows what the next hour brings! 
 Lud. How could Franciscus, in so short a time. 
 
9i FRANZ VON SICKINGEN. 
 
 Such inroads make? Upon your Lord's first notice, 
 
 Agreeable to treaty, I sent to him 
 
 A goodly troop of mounted men and foot. 
 
 And equal reinforcements came to him 
 
 From other friends. How comes it, at the head 
 
 Of all his nobles, of his peasant-vassals. 
 
 And strengthened with these aids, he failed a head 
 
 To make against Franciscus in the field? 
 
 Knt. Oh, ask not, Sir; there was no head to makel 
 The terror of his name before him flew, 
 A Gorgon, palsying resistance. Like 
 A second Holofernes, magistrates 
 And commons, maidens robed in white went out 
 To meet him with the beat of drum and trumpet bray, 
 Whate'er resistance, down his savage sword 
 Did mow. St. Wendel, Grimberg, Bliescastel 
 He took by storm, and, forthwith, waxing like 
 A speeding conflagration, rolled on Treves. 
 The God of War himself, had he stepped down 
 From high, could not his fury have withstood! 
 In his mailed hand would Treves now be, had not 
 An accident, or wonder savSd us. 
 
 Lud. What's that? 
 
 Knt. While, breaking into towns and burgs, 
 
 Resistlessly Franciscus marched on Treves, 
 Th' Elector into Eifel threw himself. 
 His people to a levy in mass to call. 
 This Franz perceived. Intending th' Archbishop's 
 Retreat to intercept, of the Moselle 
 The left bank with the bastard of Sombreff 
 He occupies. The hot-head bastard, tho'. 
 Away being carried by the ardor of 
 His zeal, his way to Eifel forces, hot 
 Upon th' Elector's heels. With cleverly 
 DisguisM marches, he deceives the hound; 
 Finds free the shore; and in two days runs in 
 His town, ere Franz arrived before our gates. — 
 Had Franz found Treves without her Lord, she would 
 Have trembling fallen on his breast, and now, 
 A fugitive upon the mountain, would 
 Th' Elector be — afraid of every hunter's footfall. 
 
 Lud. No accident, it was the will of God, 
 
 That such misfortune turned from his head! 
 
FRANZ VON SICKINGEN. 
 
 But now, protected by the walls of Treves, 
 
 That many a month a siege could brave, how can 
 
 He fear so speedy a fall? 
 Knt. Oh, sir, how long 
 
 Could the supplies for such a garrison 
 
 Hold out in a besieged town? But 'tis 
 
 Not that alone. Part of the townsmen — this 
 
 Our master knows from intercepted letters — 
 
 Is grumbling for Franciscus. E'en the better 
 
 Ones hard grow to control, when day and night 
 
 T-hey're frequent called to take their posts of danger. 
 
 As I was leaving, he was making ready 
 
 The town with burning shot to assail; nor could 
 
 It many storms with ease withstand. — But, Sir, 
 
 I also good news have. I tidings bring 
 
 From Philip, Hess's landgrave, visited 
 
 By me in Darmstadt, on the self-same errand. 
 
 The noble Prince's cheek glowed red with rage. 
 
 When he his ally's stress heard of. Before 
 
 The sixth sun in the sea has dipped, he swore 
 
 His army forth to lead. An equal force 
 
 From you he expects. The place you are to name 
 
 Where both the forces are to meet, thence jointly 
 
 To Treves' relief set forth. 
 Lud. [Hesitating.'] Equip a force 
 
 Upon so short a notice — have you thought 
 
 Of that — it is impossible! Moreover — 
 Knt. Oh, do not hesitate, your Grace! Think of 
 
 The treaties! Mind that ev'ry hour may that 
 
 Bring on that nevermore could altered be. 
 Lud. I'll gladly do* all that I can. I'll send 
 
 Another company to aid you. 
 Knt. Oh! 
 
 And do you hasten that it timely may 
 
 Arrive to join the feast of Treves' sad wake? 
 
 [After a short pause — during which the Elector has walk' 
 the room up and down, steeped in thought — with a hitti 
 tone."] 
 
 With half -help nothing could be done ; your whole 
 
 Force, Sir, alone can stead. The Hessian emulate! 
 
 An army call around you; jointly march 
 
 To Treves with Philip, else the town will fall 
 
 In ruins. You soon could not, what now you can! 
 
U FRANZ VON SICKINGEN. 
 
 Lud. [Stopping still, and to himself in deep agitation^] 
 'Gainst Franz an drmy shall I lead? — That were 
 A fight for life and death! He never that 
 Would pardon — nor I him, if e'er I go so far! 
 Let Philip do so — and not me — if with 
 His Luth'ran conscience he can reconcile the act! 
 Me other duties bind. Franz ! Franz ! So far 
 Shall I the years-long love, the troth forget 
 
 That you and your house before my eyes 
 
 The bloody specter rises of Schweickhardt, 
 Your father, warning with his head — 
 
 Ent. [Pressing.l Decide, 
 
 Sir! While we speak the leaden dice fall heavy. 
 Cast by the God of War upon devoted Treves. 
 
 Lud. [With positiveness.'] 
 
 It can not he! You ask th' impossible. 
 
 The Hessian will suffice. I'll reinforcements send. 
 
 And — that is all that I am able to. 
 
 Knt. It then is o'er, and great events will yet 
 This year's sun look down upon. Inevitably. 
 Is verified Franciscus' word. 
 [Turns to go.'\ 
 
 Lud. What word ? 
 
 Knt. Within St. Wendel's walls the prime nobility 
 Of Treves itself intrenched had. There were 
 Bruno von Schmidtburg, Waldecker von Keimt, 
 Otto von Ketting, and good many more — 
 The pillars of th' archbishopric, pledged solemnly 
 The place to hold, though they with it went down. 
 In vain did twice the knight a storm essay; 
 He's beaten back by their heroic stand. 
 But hotter still, inflamed with furious rage, 
 Franciscus rushes on, and, at the third 
 Attack, like glass he breaks both wall and men. 
 As, then, within th' Archbishop's burg he stood, 
 Surrounded by his military chiefs. 
 And the long train of captured nobles filed 
 Before him, grief-bent casting down tlioir eyes. 
 The moment's bubbling arrogance forced to 
 His lips his otherwise well-guarded heart. 
 Ye Sirs ! he cried. Look happier at th' event ! 
 A Prince you have, who, when it please him, has 
 Of wealth an ampleness to ransom you; 
 
FRANZ VON SICKINGEN. 96 
 
 Yet when — which, as you see, is on the way — 
 
 Decked with th' Electoral purple, himself then 
 
 Franciscus steps into the Seven's ranks, 
 
 And you his banner then will follow — then 
 
 The change will profit only bring to you! 
 Lud. [Greatly excited.'] 
 
 Franciscus in the Seven's rank? What? He 
 
 Said that? 
 Knt. He did on my salvation, Sir:— 
 
 Aye ev'ry lansquenet in Franz's camp 
 
 Swears loud his Lord will an Elector be — or more! 
 Lud. Farew^ell, irresolution! Banished is 
 
 Regard for all my other sentiments ! 
 
 Franciscus! Does your bold ambition vault 
 
 So high as at th' Elect'ral purple aim? 
 
 Th' Elect'ral hat upon a head so turbulent? 
 
 My just suspicion rightly guided me. 
 
 Was that the purpose of the Landau gath'ringT 
 
 Oh, never, Franz! Now action is in time. 
 
 To Philip quickly fly; tell him from me 
 
 The treaties we concluded shall be observed; 
 
 Upon the spot my whole force shall I move; 
 
 Shall send him word where to connect with me. 
 
 He should remember ev'ry minute tells. 
 
 Speed! Speed away! 
 
 [To his private Secretary.'] 
 
 A fresh horse furnish him. 
 
 Away, Sir Knight! Upon the storm's wings ridel 
 Knt. [Bowing.] 
 
 All hail to you, jny Prince ! Such gladsome news 
 
 Transforms me to an arrow. Place on that your trust I 
 [Exit with the private secretary in great hurry.] 
 Lud. The German Brutus people call you, Franz; 
 
 It now will ascertained be whether 
 
 You are fhat Brutus that victorious drove 
 
 Off Tarquin, or the one that, vainly manned, 
 
 Was in the end, his own life forced to take. 
 
 [Exit precipitately.] 
 
 Scene II. — Sickingen*s camp before Treves. Counts Wilhelm VON 
 
 FUBSTENBEBG, ElTELFRITZ VON ZOLLEBN and HaBTMUTH VON 
 
 Kronbebg enter. Later Fbowin von Hutten. 
 Zol. I tell you we shall storm the town this day 
 
98 FRANZ VON SICKINGEN. 
 
 For the last hours, Franz has riding been, 
 
 In semi-circle all along the walls. 
 Furs. It would too early be a repetition. 
 ZoL Perhaps it is to keep the priestly paunches 
 
 In perfect exercise. It never is 
 
 Too soon for me to start upon a storm. 
 Kron. To him who battles for his God, the heart 
 
 Is ne'er so light as when he ramparts scales. 
 [Trumpets are heard from a distance.] 
 Furs. Hark! Heard you that ? 
 
 [The trumpets repeat the signal louder.] 
 
 It sounds like war's salute. 
 
 As if new squadrons marching came in camp. 
 Zol. Lo! Hither hastens towards us a knight. 
 Kron. It is Frowin! 
 
 [Frounn von Eutten enters.} 
 
 We greet you, friend in camp! 
 All. [Drawing near.] 
 
 God's greeting to you, Frowin von Hutten! 
 Frow. Thanks! Greeting to you. Sirs! 
 
 [They shake hands.] 
 Furs. You come at last! 
 
 You soon had come too late; but yet in time. 
 Frow. How mean you that ? 
 Furs. In sev'ral ways. Had not 
 
 Sombreff his orders broke, you now had found 
 
 Us in possession of the town. It was 
 
 A stupid slip. 
 Zol. That matters not. Howe'er 
 
 The sweetheart bar the door, she still believes. 
 Furs. I grant. But much blood had it saved us. 
 Kron. The blood that in God's honor flows, the lap 
 
 Of earth does fructify, and hallows our life. 
 Zol. And how would Frowin, not have grieved, had he 
 
 Too late arrived to dance ! 
 Frow. Not earlier could 
 
 I come. The company's equipment held 
 
 Me long. But how stand things? I crave to know. 
 Furs. Have you not yet Franciscus seen ? 
 Frow. I have 
 
 I met him on the hill over against 
 
 The town. His lancers' chiefs surrounded him. 
 
 He listened in great haste to my report. 
 
FRANZ VON SICKINGEN. ^. 
 
 To yoii referring me for news from him. 
 
 With him, behind, I left my cousin, and have hither hurried. 
 Zol. In few words the report I'll make. We've had 
 
 Two trial storms; and, if not much deceived. 
 
 You just in time are for the third attempt. 
 Frow. The bishop holds out well ? 
 Zol. A full-fledged Mars. 
 
 Sticks in the priest. A pity of him! He swings 
 
 The sword as if it were a holy-water sprinkler. 
 Furs. And not less well does he the firebrand; 
 
 He burns down cloisters just as a Hussite. 
 Frow. Cloisters, the priest? 
 Zol. You know the abbey of 
 
 St. Maximin, the noble structure, that 
 
 Upon an eminence, near this town rose? 
 
 Not on th' archbishopric dependent, and 
 
 Placed under the protection of the realm. 
 
 It long had roused the bishop's envious longings. 
 Froio. I know it well. A prime strategic spot, 
 
 For siege artillery to be set up. 
 
 Protected by its walls and courts, the town 
 
 Could from its height be swept. 
 Zol. Exactly so! 
 
 Now, then, two days before our own arrival, by 
 
 Sombreflf allowed to slip through, th' Archbishop 
 
 Reached Treves. The first thing that he does — behold 
 
 How nicely Hate and Wisdom joined hands 
 
 To suit the priest — is, mindless of the cry 
 
 Raised by the monks, the abbey to tear do\\Ti. 
 
 'Twas plunder^. My bald-crowns were left free to 
 
 Remove to Treves. In war's accoutrement. 
 
 The firebrand in his own hand, the priest 
 
 In person led the work of demolition. 
 Furs. One of his mounted men quite worshipful 
 
 The torch took from his hand — Your Worship, sai( 
 
 The man, leave that to me, whom hetter, than 
 
 To such a pious man, becomes the work of arson! 
 [They laugh."] 
 Zol. That happened so! And what the fire did 
 
 Not burn the pick demolished. Just as with 
 
 The vanguard we arrived, the priest withdrew. 
 
 We only ruins found. 
 Frow. By that I Richard recognize I 
 
m J^RANZ VON SICKINGEN. 
 
 Fufs, You've heard from us. 'Tis now your turn for news. 
 
 How does it stand with Albrecht ? Let us know ! 
 
 Will he with open forces Franz support? 
 Frow. Oh, quite impossible, just now! What secretly 
 
 He can, that will he gladly do, and will 
 
 Continue doing; openly, however — 
 
 For that it is too early. I myself, 
 
 The racking doubts beholding that his mind 
 
 Assailed, stepped up to him and said — Sir, I 
 
 Return to you. the seal I hold; I have 
 
 In all Frandscus' feuds participated. 
 
 And mean to do so now again, hut not 
 
 As your Gra/ndmaster and your Chamberlain. — 
 
 With his large eyes he looked me kindly in 
 
 The face and said — Frowin, you are quite right; 
 
 You knoiv, I open keep your place, both at 
 
 My court a/nd heart! 
 Furs. Does Franz know that? Twill grieve him sore I 
 
 Frow. It did not so. We need him not, said he 
 
 With calm indifference. 
 Zol. And he is right! 
 
 I think so too. We do not stand in need of him. 
 Frow. Then, with his shrewd smile said — Th' Elector of 
 
 Mayence unll banquet but not cook with us ! 
 
 For all that yvt his plaxie I'll honor at the feast. 
 Kron. [Stepping to the rear."] 
 
 There's Franz approaching. 
 Zol. Yes, indeed, and weighty tidings 
 
 It seems he brings. He is accompanied 
 
 By all the captains of the army. 
 
 Scene III. — Feanz unth Ulrich von Hutten and captains of the 
 army, among them Fbitz Sombbeff. The former. 
 
 Franz. I greet you, dear Sirs ! 
 
 All. Franciscus, hail to you ! 
 
 Franz. My noble Sirs, I come your views to take — 
 
 Shall we, to-day, a third time try a storm ? 
 
 [A single trumpet sounds without. All listen.l 
 
 What was that? 
 Furs. On my soul, it sounded like 
 
 The signal for a parley. 
 ZdL Surely, not 
 
FRANZ VON SICKINGEN. 89 
 
 The priest seeks to negotiate"? 
 A Lcmsquenet. [Entering.] Sir, an 
 
 Imperial herald has arrived. He brings, 
 Says he, a mandate from the Emperor. 
 Franz, Then lead him hither ! 
 
 [Exit Lansquenet.'] 
 
 Once more shall I hear 
 The fiddle scratch of th' old regime — but then, 
 For the last time ! 
 
 Scene ly. — Hebald preceded hy the lansquenet. The former, 
 
 Her. Whom, here, do I greet as Franz von Sickingen ? 
 
 Franz. You stand before him. 
 
 Her. Franz von Sickingen 
 
 In th' Emperor's and Reichstag's name, I have 
 
 A double mandate to announce — to you. 
 
 As well as to your army. 
 Franz To the end 
 
 That you may see the answer you'll receive 
 
 Proceeds, not from my orders, but the breasts 
 
 Themselves of these free men — 
 
 [To the lansquenet.] The captains of 
 
 My army call together, that each one 
 
 Himself may hear what him concerns. 
 Zol. We're now assembled. 
 Her, Captains ! 
 
 Franz Herald, hold! 
 
 You presently shall have the floor. 
 
 [Steps towards the group of captains standing opposite,'] 
 
 Where is 
 
 My Joerg von Augsburg? 
 Augs. [Stepping forward.] Sir! 
 Franz, Draw nearer, Joerg! 
 
 [Whispers to him; Joerg nods; then louder to Joerg.] 
 
 And whei you're ready, let the trumpets blow; 
 
 The martial music shall my signal be. 
 
 [Joerg withdraws with rapid steps. Franz steps again to the 
 center where he had stood before.] 
 
 Now, Herald, speak! Your message now commence. 
 Her. Ye Counts, ye Nobles, Knights and Captains, all 
 
 Of th' army that encamped is before Treves! 
 
 Thus speaks the Emp'ror Charles through me, this day: — 
 
 Revolt, and riot and a breach of peace 
 
100 FRANZ VON SICKlNGEN. 
 
 Is this war that Franciscus has involved 
 
 You in ; against the realm's decrees ; against 
 
 The Golden Bull and prescripts, issued by 
 
 Imperial Majesty. Therefore commands 
 
 The Emperor that forthwith to your homes 
 
 You back shall march, and back into its scabbard 
 
 Your wrath-inflam&d swords return. Then will 
 
 He extend to you both grace and pardon. But 
 
 If not, the Reichstag's ban will fall on you — 
 
 Not merely heavy punishment in limb 
 
 And goods — no ! If still further Franz's flag 
 
 You follow, then your heads will fall! — Thus swears 
 
 The Emperor. 
 
 [Commotion am^mg the knights and captains.^ 
 
 Franz. You've heard the threat of Charles. 
 
 Zol. We heard it, and to you shall faithful bide. 
 
 All. We follow Franz. His banner we will follow. 
 
 Zol. [To Herald.] 
 
 Go back and say that in Franciscus' camp 
 Men and not milksops you have found. 
 
 All. Hail, Franz, to you! We'll follow you till death! 
 
 Her. I now, Franciscus, turn my face to you! 
 The Emperor reminds you of his old 
 Affection ; he reminds you of the grace 
 That he has e'er extended unto you. 
 You shall forthwith withdraw the army that 
 Assails his nephew and this sacred place. 
 If not, upon you too the ban will fall. 
 And forfeiture of his Imperial grace. 
 And if against th' Elector you have just 
 Cause of complaint, the realm's courts shall forthwith- 
 Himself Charles vouches therefor — to you 
 Full justice do. Thus runs my message. Weigh 
 It well. I anxiously your answer wait. 
 
 Franz. Go, herald, and unto your Lord announce: — 
 Gone by is now the time for words! Upon 
 The Gate of Time, with iron knuckles loud. 
 And big with fate, the hour decisive strikes. 
 This realm lies prostrate in convulsions. No 
 Nice flourishes of law can now the strife allay, 
 That shakes its frame! — Look yonder, herald! Do 
 You see yon pile of muskets and of cartridges? 
 From their throats such times as these their law 
 
FRANZ VON SICKlNGEiT. lOl 
 
 Tempestuous draw. In my own camp stands raised 
 
 The realm's high judgment seat. Myself I'll found 
 
 A powerful new order, and will dare 
 
 A deed to do 
 
 Ne'er yet by Roman Emperor attempted! 
 
 [The herald turns to go; at that moment mxirtial mtiaic 
 sounds loithout,'] 
 
 Hold, herald, take your answer to the end ! 
 
 Hear you the bugles blow and trumpets bray ? 
 
 They summon us — ^you, Sirs — to storm the walls! 
 
 Th' arrival of the herald served, in lieu 
 
 Of martial council, quick the time to wink away. 
 
 Few hours more, and, herald, back to Charles 
 
 You'll take the greeting that from Treves Franz sends to him. 
 {Draws his sicordJ] 
 
 And now. Sirs, to the storm! 
 All. [Drawing their swords. "] Aye to the storm! 
 Franz. Let Luther and Franciscus be the cry ; 
 
 Myself will the first ladder place against the wall. 
 8omh. [Stepping forward.^ 
 
 No, Sir! Allow that I the heavy debt 
 
 Now pay that weighs upon my breast. Mine be 
 
 The boon of the first ladder. Sir. Let me 
 
 Atone this day for what I did amiss. 
 
 If not, believe me, alive I'll not return. 
 Franz. [Somlerly.'] 
 
 I grant it, Sombreff. Many brothers' blood 
 
 Lies heavy upon your life ; 'tis thine no more ; 
 
 Gro dash it 'gainst the walls of Treves. That which 
 
 Both sides now lose is gain — to you and us. 
 
 And now, Sirs, to the storm! The sun goes down 
 
 In blood. Oh, may her morning rays find us in Treves! 
 All. On, to the storm! On! Luther and Franciscus! 
 
 [Exeunt all.] 
 
 Scene V. — Market-place in Treves. It is night. The town hums in 
 several places. The scene is lighted by the distant conflagrations. 
 The hells are ringing. From time to time, the roar of cannon 
 and crush of halls is heard. Women flee wringing their hands, 
 and dragging their children after them, or carrying them in their 
 arms. 
 
 1st WomAin. Oh, heaven! Ruined am I? 
 
 2nd Woman. [Rushing in loith a child in her arms."] 
 
1G2 FKaNZ von SICKINGEN. 
 
 Save yourselves! 
 
 The en'my's forcing in the Koritz gate! 
 Srd Woman. [RurShing in with a little girl and distractedly looking 
 round."] 
 
 Fritz! Fritz! Where are you, Fritz! Oh, Jesus, Maria! 
 
 My child! My child! 
 
 [Rushes hack in the direction whence she came. From sev- 
 eral sides crowds of townsmen enter tumultuously and 
 grumbling, and armed with pikes, swords and lattle-axes.] 
 1st Town. We can hold out no longer. 
 
 One half the town is burning. 
 2nd Town. One hour more, 
 
 The foe will take the Simeon church. Depend on that. 
 Srd Town. The foe? What priestly cant is that you talk! 
 
 Is, then, Franciscus your foe, or mine? 
 
 His proclamation solemnly declares 
 
 He none fights but the priest. No townsman shall 
 
 In body suffer or in limb. 
 J^th Town. Indeed, it is the doings of the priest 
 
 That we with blood and wealth are paying for. 
 Srd Town. Meseems, a stupid trade we ply to fight. 
 
 Against our interests, and to uphold 
 
 The priest's oppression. 
 Several Voices. Yes 'tis so! 'Tis true! 
 
 Other Voices. No! No! No! 
 Jtth Town. Silence! No dissensions here! 
 
 This much is sure. What Franz's 'gainst Richard has 
 
 Does not concern the town. Why, then, does not 
 
 His Worship with his nobles go outside. 
 
 And settle in the open field his feud 
 
 With Franz? Why does he, instead, defend himself 
 
 With our houses, that in flames go up? 
 
 Make us the scape-goats of his private quarrel? 
 
 Who of you is so priest-daft that he'd gladly. 
 
 In the bald-crown's quarrel, house and home, and wife 
 
 And child, and his own life to boot, fling in 
 
 The flames? 
 All. No! None! 
 
 Several Voices. We'll to the Bishop go! 
 
 Scene VI. — Enters the Electoe-Aechbishop Richaed with Count 
 Solms, followed hy a guard of lansquenets. The ArchMshop is in 
 
FRANZ VON SICKINGEN. 103 
 
 full armor, his hare sword in his ha/nd and helmet on head; over 
 his armor the episcopal pallium. 
 
 Arch. I tell you, Solms, beset am I with traitors; 
 
 At my own table sit these men — 
 
 [Notices the crowd of townsmen, and steps towards them, who 
 at his approach, draw hack timid and grumhling.^ 
 
 What do you here ? Why not upon the walls ? 
 
 Is this a time to rest, your wide mouths fetch 
 
 Together ? Off, with you ! And quickly go ! 
 
 [Hollow murmur from the crowd of townsmen,'] 
 Several Voices. The town no longer can hold out! 
 Arch. Who grumbles? 
 
 4th Toion. Worshipful Sir! Our property in vain 
 
 Goes up in flames. We think, if with the knights 
 
 Your worship would betake himself outside 
 
 The gates, and there offer to give battle. 
 
 That would preserve from total demolition 
 
 Your Worship's faithful town. The victory 
 
 Could surely not choose but fall upon 
 
 Your sanctifiM arms. 
 All. Yes, leave the town! 
 
 Arch. Ye pack of traitors! Lashes shall you have. 
 
 To take away your taste for mutiny. 
 
 Scene VII. — At the moment when the Archbishop rushes at the 
 crowd of receding townsmen, a captain enters with a squad of 
 soldiers dragging in a Sickingen lansquenet. The former. 
 
 Capt. [To Archbishop.] 
 
 Sir Archbishop! This lansquenet we took. 
 W^ith our sling^ we pulled him off the wall. 
 He might disclose the en'my's plans and strength. 
 Arch. [To the lansquenet.] 
 
 You've heard what's wanted. If your life you love 
 The information give. Step in my ranks. 
 Lans. I rather die in Franz's grace, than live 
 
 In Treves a priest's puppet. 
 A Soldier. Then die, you dog! 
 
 [Stabs the lansquenet. A pause.] 
 Arch. Remove that corpse! 
 
 [The captain and soldiers withdraw with the corpse of the 
 lansquenet and the Archbishop proceeds addressing the 
 townsmen*] 
 
104 FRANZ VON SICKINGEN. 
 
 To you I say: that corpse 
 A warning be to you. A corpse I'll make 
 Whome'er suspicious acts. Now, to the walls ! 
 3rd Town, [Whispering to the 4th tovmsman.} 
 Be careful ; anger him not now — I'll tell 
 You more. We'll in the end enforce our plan. 
 Arch. At your gates, the best nobility 
 
 Is freely shedding from its princely veins 
 
 The ruddy stream of life, and you would save 
 
 Your low, plebeian blood? Would spare your mean 
 
 Existence when the fight is raging for 
 
 The holy things of earth ? The pious monk 
 
 Himself, in sword-craft inexpert, his hands, 
 
 To prayer only usfed, puts to work. 
 
 Himself, self-sacrificing, in the jaws 
 
 Of death he throws, fights for his faith and God — 
 
 And you will think but of your earthly goods? 
 
 [Approaching from a distance is heard a choral song of 
 monks singing the first strophe of a hymn.Ji 
 Chobal. Fibst Stbophe. 
 8pe mercedis et coronae 
 Stetis martyr in agone 
 Ad mortem ohediens 
 Morte Christum imitatus 
 Fide firmu^ et firmatus 
 Firmo greffu gradiens. 
 Arch. [When the strophe ends, turning again to the townsmen.] 
 Behold, the pious soldiers are approaching, 
 Decided, cheerful, a second wall 
 To raise around the town with their brave hearts. 
 
 [The procession of monks enters and marches across the place 
 carrying banners and other church insignia, and singing 
 the second strophe of the choral.} 
 Chobal. Second Stbophe. 
 Furit furor militaris 
 Ut vir sacer sacris aris 
 
 Immoletur hostia 
 Quern occidunt saevientes 
 Introducunt nescientes 
 Ad aeterna gaudia. 
 [At the appearance of the procession, the Archbishop and all 
 those present fall upon their knees; singing the second 
 strophe of the choral, the procession parses slowly over the 
 
FRANZ VON SICKINGEN. 105 
 
 place, halting noio and then. After the procession ha>s 
 passed, the Archbishop and all the others rise.] 
 A rch. [^Stretching out his arms in 'benediction.'] 
 
 Rise, strengthened by the blessing from on high! 
 
 The Lord of Hosts himself fights on our side, 
 
 And parries from your head the en'my's sword; 
 
 The Holy Virgin marches on before, 
 
 She looks at you with her celestial eyes. 
 
 Blessed who this day sheds his blood! Such death, 
 
 LikQ^our Lord's own blood, the sinner's sins 
 
 And errors wipes away. The Gates of Glory 
 
 The paradise of joy, are opened wide to him 
 
 The angels meet him singing songs of praise, 
 
 And lead him to the right hand of God's throne. 
 
 Illumined by th' eternal splendor of His light! 
 
 Up, then, and to the walls! I'll lead you on. 
 
 For battle cry, invoke the Holy Virgin ! 
 All. On to the walls! Treves and the Holy Virgin! 
 
 Scene VIII. — The camp before Treves.. Morning is slowly dawning. 
 Lansquenets enter carrying the deadly wounded Sombbeff; later 
 Ulrich von Hutten. 
 
 Somb. Lay me down here. 'Tis one where I shall die. 
 
 1st Lans. 'Twill not be quite so bad, Sir Knight ; I'll bring you help. 
 
 Somb. I am past hope. Return and fight your best. 
 
 [Ulrich enters with armed men.'] 
 2nd Lans. Who comes ! The pass-word — 
 
 Ulrich. Luther and Franciscus! 
 
 Somb. [Painfully raising himself on his elbow.] 
 
 You, Hutten, here? 
 Ulrich. Fritz Sombreff! Wounded sore? 
 
 Somb. To death! 
 
 Ulrich. Poor friend! Your promise well you've kept! 
 
 Somb. How stands the fight ? Oh, let me know ! 
 Ulrich. Still undecided 
 
 The scales are trembling! Hither from 
 
 The Mosel gate I come, where we the foe's 
 
 Terrific sally bloodily repelled. 
 
 Before his men th' Archbishop himself fought; 
 
 At him dashed Franz, whose lightning sword, the priest 
 
 Pursuing, and whom Mars snatched off, mowed down 
 
 Relentlessly the thick-set ranks of the 
 
 Resisting foe! But, now, farewell! I hasten 
 
lOG FRANZ VON SICKINGEN. 
 
 Towards the Simeon gate, where Franz, the town 
 
 There closely pressing, has upon his hands 
 
 The en'my's heaviest force. Farewell, and do 
 
 Not take it ill if now I leave you alone, 
 
 Obedient to war's barbarous behest. 
 8oml). Oh, but one moment more, with a few words 
 
 Be pleased to soothe my life's last breath! How stood 
 
 Thinks at the Koritz gate ? A rumor flew 
 
 Across the ranks that it had taken been! 
 Ulrich. There, Death's own image, black von Zollern, 
 
 The club swings that in his hands fully out-does 
 
 The scythes of two of th' en'my's most deadly reapers. 
 
 As he his men against the wall was leading. 
 
 Upon th' assailants' heads fell such a stream 
 
 Of boiling oil and melted lead, that loud 
 
 The men yelled, dropped the ladder, and fled back. 
 
 Yet he, with not a call their flight rewarding. 
 
 As if alone he meant to take the town, 
 
 The heavy ladder lifts, and up its rungs 
 
 With rapid strides he climbs. At such a sight, 
 
 The men are seized with shame, that hotter burned 
 
 Than melted fire ; they turn about and dash 
 
 After their leader. Wounded in the right, 
 
 In his left hand he takes the sword and fights 
 
 On as before. The ladder breaks beneath 
 
 His closely following men, that forward pressed 
 
 To second him — but all the while I speak 
 
 The minutes flee. — ^Hark ! Signals — Heard you that 1 
 [A long draicn signal sounds from afar.^ 
 Sonil. They're sounding a retreat! The storm is stopped — 
 
 Let with it end the remnant of this life. 
 [Falls lack and dies.'] 
 
 Scene IX. — FraT?tz and suite, later Fubstenburg, Zollern, Frowin, 
 
 Augsburg amd other captains and knights. 
 Franz. The generals call hither! Rest we of 
 
 The storm, that breathless all night long has raged. 
 
 [Exit several men; he notices Ulrich.'] 
 You, Ulrich, here! 
 
 [Embraces him.] I felt concerned for you. 
 When from each other, driven by the wave 
 Of rushing men, you tumbled were upon 
 Their bloody arms. You see, the grim priest will 
 
FRANZ VON SICKINGEN. 107 
 
 Not cheaply part with his Electoral hat. 
 [Enters the generals sent for.^ 
 
 I greet you, Sirs ! A circle make around me. 
 
 The morning's pale light breaks, and rest require 
 
 The wholly exhausted troops, who, without let, 
 
 Have eight long hours through pools of blood been wading, 
 
 And 'gainst the town's walls dashed themselves. I, hence, 
 
 Have torn you from your mowing labors, here 
 
 To council take, whether forthwith, upon 
 
 A short rest's respite, we the battle shall 
 
 Reswne, or shall defer till our cannons 
 
 A wider path have broke. Ye captains and 
 
 Ye nobles of this army, speak your minds 
 
 As freely as becomes a chief to speak. 
 Zol. [With his right hand in a sling, his sword in his leftJ] 
 
 I am for storming! — 'Twere a shame if we 
 
 This night should fail to rest and sleep in Treves 
 Furs. Sir, softly! Anger carries you away. 
 
 'Tis coolness that befits a gen'ral's council. 
 
 The storm was ordered much too soon ; too firm — 
 
 We've found it out — are still the stubborn walls; 
 
 We vainly sacrifice our men; the town 
 
 Can now no more escape our hands ; but yet 
 
 The cannons' fiery pounding needed is 
 
 To soften her, and in her heart the way 
 
 To clear for our storm's successful issue. 
 Frow. And so think I. The town is lost. But only if 
 
 The way we break for our assault, obedient to 
 
 The settled rules of siege. 
 Zol. The sword breaks wayr 
 
 To him that kqpws to wield it. 
 Augs, Sirs, allow 
 
 That now I venture in this council of 
 
 The army's chiefs the word to take. You know 
 
 Me, Sir ! I fought the battles of the realm, 
 
 With th' Emp'ror Max I camped in Welschland, 
 
 I stood — 
 Franz. We all know you, my sturdy Joerg, 
 
 You are the army's chief of ordnance, and 
 
 Since wars I've waged, none better do I know. 
 Augs. Well, then, now listen — 
 
 So long as we no breach into the walls 
 
 Have shot, you vainly dash your army's head 
 
108 FRANZ VON SICKINGEN. 
 
 Against the bulwark. It is much too strong. 
 Its garrison too large, and it is too 
 Well generalled! Of these three, two we might 
 O'ercome, not all the three comhined. Impossible! 
 And now. Sir knight, if my advice you'll take, 
 I pledge myself, before eight days have run 
 Their course, and simply by my ordnance now 
 Upon but few points centering, to ope 
 Two breaches in the town — the North gate and 
 The West — Give then the order for the storm! 
 The town will helpless at you mercy fall 
 Into your warm victorious arms. 
 
 A Lansquenet. My general ! 
 
 This minute, while myself and others three 
 Stood sentinel along the bastion, from 
 Within the walls an arrow flew and fell 
 At our feet. We found a note attached 
 To th' arrow, and this inscription did it bear: — 
 To the most puissant knight, Franciscus. 
 
 Franz. [To Joerg.} 
 
 From th' arrow cut and read the note to us. 
 
 Augs. [Reading.'] 
 
 ''Worshipful Sir Knight! It is a friend who uyrites to you, and if 
 he is not your friend, he would te your enemy, which, may God 
 stand hy me, is like saying an enemy of himself and of every hon- 
 orable Christian, and a friend of these thick-skinned, money - 
 greedy, man-skinning priests, whom he loves as much a^ your 
 hullets love them when, out of sympathy, your bullets walk into 
 their bodies in front, and, out of antipathy^ walk out again at 
 their backs, a magnificent spectacle, that he will never forget it 
 was you, m<iy God reward you therefor, who to-day furnished 
 him several times. If you take the town, and your Grace deigns 
 him the favor, he requests that you may carry it out upon the 
 bald-crowns whom you have sentenced to be hanged, and to exe- 
 cute it upon those whom, perhaps, you mean to let go. Now, to 
 the point. You have friends in the town, and people who are 
 favorable. But it is still too early. You must curb your im- 
 patience, and be nicely quiet for a while. Because the garrison is 
 still too numerous, and the papists are still making too much of 
 am, outcry. But the burghers have not yet the necessary courage. 
 But if you shoot down their houses eight days longer, you will 
 bring it to a favorable issue. Therefore, have patience. Sir 
 Knight, because every ball that falls in here carries away one of 
 
FRANZ VON SICKINGEN. 109 
 
 your enemies, and makes you one more friend. You unll hear 
 
 further from me, and I am negotiating about a little gat6. When 
 
 a week is over, you unll become personally acquainted loith me, 
 
 and do not then forget my favor!" 
 
 [General laughter among all present.'] 
 
 An eloquent epistle ! 
 Zol. Quite an assiduous knave! 
 
 Franz. You're all agreed to a postponement? 
 AU, Yes, we are! 
 
 Franz. JTius, with or without letter — this a ruse 
 
 Of th' enemy may be — 'tis my view also. 
 
 Return the army to its old positions ; 
 
 With increased force the murd'rous cannonade 
 
 We shall renew. 
 Augs. Aye, Sir ; but 'tis the third 
 
 Time, now, I warn you that we powder lack. 
 
 You promised sev'ral days ago th' arrival 
 
 Of fresh kegs, ordered by you from Landstuhl. 
 
 'Tis pressing, the supply can last but few days more. 
 Franz. Joerg, worry not ! I know not how it happens 
 
 The transport is so long in coming. But 
 
 To-day it surely will arrive. Meantime, 
 
 No powder spare! 
 
 Scene X. — A la/nsquenet followed by two messengers; the former, 
 
 Lans. Two messengers have. Sir, 
 
 Just now arrived, with hurried news for you. 
 
 First Mes. [Stepping forward.] 
 
 Sir, blame me not if now I bring to you 
 Unwelcome news. The knight of Renneberg, 
 Who in Cleves'and Julich men for you recruited. 
 Has sent me here. An edict of the duke. 
 That threatens loss of fief and life to him 
 Who joins your forces, quickly checked the flood 
 That poured into the knight's encampment. Dashed 
 Against that dam, that broke their further increase, 
 The raw recruits lost courage and dispersed. 
 
 2nd Mess. The same thing I report to you from Limburg, 
 Westphalia and the district of Cologne, 
 In all of which, with equal threats, th* Archbishop 
 Prevents th' escape of riders to your camp. 
 [Indignation among the nobles.] 
 
 Franz, [Scornfully.] 
 
IIP FRANZ VON SICKINGEN. 
 
 Behold how expeditiously and harmonious 
 
 Are all at once these Princes, otherwise 
 
 So wrangling and deliberative! Why, 
 
 It borders on a miracle! I barely 
 
 This good sword from its sheath have drawn, to pound 
 
 rhem into one, and — not since stands the realm 
 
 I such a case recall! — lo, smilingly 
 
 My wishes granting, there they come and hop 
 
 To meet me! — Such a willingness is half 
 
 The victory; deserves to be recorded. " 
 
 My thanks for your good tidings! 
 
 \Exii messengers, and Franz turns to the captains and 
 knights.] 
 
 Who of you 
 
 Needs sharers in fame and booty? Who 
 
 So poorly holds himself as to believe 
 
 He's not enough? 
 All [Enthusiastically.'] 
 
 Not one! Franz,, thrice enough 
 
 Are we so long your spirit guides our arms! 
 Franz. My thanks! 
 Frow. [Almost simultaneously.] 
 
 Who's that, with rapid steps approaching? 
 
 His roaming eyes denotes he looks for someone. 
 Horseman. [Enters in haste.] 
 
 You are Franciscus! Sir, I recognize you! 
 
 I'm one of Michael Minckwitzk' riders, who 
 
 From Brunswick marchM with a company 
 
 Of horse and fifteen hundred foot, whom he 
 
 For you recruited. Unexpectedly 
 
 We're fall'n upon, with overpow'ring force. 
 
 By Philip, Hesse's landgrave; scatters us 
 
 Apart; arrests the knight Minckwitz himself; 
 
 And takes our chest. — I rode my horse to death 
 
 To bring you timely notice. 
 Franz. [Aside to Joerg.] 
 
 Badly seem 
 
 The sentinels their duty to conceive. 
 
 That they lead not these messengers aside 
 
 Into my tent. It is not well that here. 
 
 Before th' assembled captains of my army 
 
 This chase of messengers of evil penetrates 
 
 To me. — 
 
FRANZ VON SICKINGEN. Ill 
 
 lEwit Joerg <md returns shortly; Franz proceeds addressing 
 the horseman.^ 
 I doubt not your great haste. Had you but stood 
 As firmly as you ran, you would have back 
 To Darmstadt whimp'ring sent the baby Philip. 
 Bors. The bringer of bad news must ever ready be 
 To have his hearer's anger fall upon 
 His head. And yet I must increase it still 
 With still worse news: with forcfed marches hitber 
 Himself the landgrave Philip's hastening 
 To Treves' relief. 
 
 [Commotion among the nobles and captains."] 
 Franz. Ye, Sirs, victory! 
 
 [To the horseman."] 
 You are a cunning fellow, who the bad 
 Beginning of his tale knows good again 
 To make with its conclusion's golden words! 
 A horse and better weapons furnish him. 
 
 [To the nobles.] 
 In vain I studiously was seeking how 
 To entice th' Archbishop from the town. We now 
 May trust, does Philip come, he could no more 
 Contain himself within! To help the helper, 
 The priest will venture in the open field. 
 One blow will then destroy them both, provided 
 Our swords are still the same, and opes the town 
 To us. 
 Frow. [Impetuously drawing his sword.] 
 
 Hail, Franz, 'Gainst Philip lead us! Vict'ry 
 Is by your banner us assured. 
 All. [With swords up.] Hail, Franz! 
 
 Kurt. [Outside.] 
 
 Keep me back from my master? Me, who these 
 Four days have racing been with minutes swift 
 To find him so much sooner? Lumb'ring scamp! 
 
 [Enters dragging in two lansquenets who seek to keep him 
 back, and whom he finally throws off; he drops at Franz's 
 feet with all the signs of exhaustion.] 
 Oh, dear master! — Finally I have you! 
 Franz. How, Kurt ? Is't you ? What brings you here ? I left you 
 At Landstuhl, charged with Balthasar the burg 
 To keep. What do you here? Come, Kurt, speak up I 
 Kurt. [Gasping for breath.] 
 
^^ FRANZ VON SICKINGEN. 
 
 Sir, right away — ^wait — can no more — I am 
 
 No longer the old Kurt — 'tis now four days — 
 
 I have become a grey hound — 
 Franz. Bring a cup 
 
 Of wine to brace him up. 
 Kurt. A new lung, rather — 
 
 I wish they'd fetch me — Sir — ^the old one, much 
 
 I fear — I ran — to pieces — 
 
 [A lansquenet fetches a gohlet; Kurt seizes it with both 
 hands and drains it at one gulp.] 
 
 Ah, e'en new lungs 
 
 Reside in bumpers! 
 Franz. Now! Will you now speak? 
 
 Kurt. Yes, Sir — at Landstuhl, as you said, you left me. 
 
 With Balthasar o'er me. He joined me to 
 
 The convoy that the powder kegs conveyed 
 
 To you. 
 Franz. And what delayed the transport? Speak! 
 
 Kurt. We had not gone a full day's march, when us, 
 
 In peace — and without warning of a feud — 
 
 The palsgrave fell upon, and all the kegs 
 
 As booty took — 
 Franz. [Enraged.] The palsgra/ve did you say? 
 
 Thou liestf man! 
 Kurt. I, lie. Sir? Hear me further! 
 
 He threw us down ; made us his prisoners ; 
 
 But that's not all. Sir ! At the head of a 
 
 Strong army he is hast'ning hither 'gainst 
 
 You. Three days more, and he'll be where now 
 
 I stand. He dragged us bound behind him. But 
 
 I managed to escape. I ran myself to death. 
 
 To bring you timely warning. Wait you here — 
 
 You'll then see whether 'tis a lie. 
 Franz. [Who listened with utter indignation and with consterna- 
 tion, to Ulrich.] 
 
 That, that went to my heart! — Of all the princes. 
 
 Him only did I love, to him alone 
 
 My heart beat trustingly. In hlood the bonds 
 
 Of steel were tempered that united him 
 
 To me. A rebel for his sake against 
 
 Th' Imperial Majesty, and out of loyalty 
 
 To him, my father braved the scaffold: him 
 
 To shield; his noble head laid down upon 
 
FRANZ VON SICKINGEN. 113 
 
 The block. The loyalty, baptizM in 
 
 My father's blood, I sacredly preserved: — 
 
 And thus the son of Schweickhardt he rewards; 
 
 Rewards me thus! Of all things but for that 
 
 Was I prepared! Him only as a foe 
 
 I ne'er believed to see. — 
 
 Now, shattered lie my plans ! With one fell blow 
 
 Both human kindness and the ingenuity 
 
 Of man are crushed by vile Princes' pride ! 
 awhile Ulrich embraces him with deepest sympathy, he steps 
 hack into the ranks, where, since KurVs report, murmurs 
 and commotion had increased."] 
 Furs, Meseems the game puts on an ugly face. 
 
 We're lost if here for them we longer wait. 
 Frow. No more so than if we retreat : if we 
 
 Retreat, th' Elector surely will pursue us. 
 Zol. You may depend, that he will surely do. 
 Frow. Pursued, surrounded by a triple army — 
 
 How would you your retreat effect? What say you 
 Zol. I? I say not a word! Escape I see 
 
 As little as yourself. 
 Franz. [Who has stood the while with his arms crossed, again steps 
 forward.l 
 
 Who says we're lost? 
 
 Aye, what's lost? Are you men or worshippers 
 
 At strumpet Fortune's shrine? Wilt woo her when 
 
 She smiles, and tremble at her fickle frown? 
 
 The strong man forces her, a slave unto 
 
 His will, her willing smile to give again. 
 
 Not at the end, we stand here at the start 
 
 Of our power and our purposes. 
 
 A triple army threatens us — aye, worse, 
 
 The want of powder. Yes, we must decamp. 
 
 I'll lead you through the mountain steeps, and bring 
 
 You safe behind the foe. Woe to him, 
 
 Who'd dare my retreat to bar ! To save 
 
 His army is a general's first duty. 
 
 Your minds you may make free; encroach not on 
 
 Franciscus' cares and office. Once the foe 
 
 The slip we've given, I'll disband the bulk 
 
 Of th' army — 
 Furs. What! Disband the army while 
 
 Those three remain in arms against yourself? 
 
il4 FRANZ VON SlCKlNGfiiJ. 
 
 Frafus. How could I such an army winter in my burgs? 
 Or should I quarter them upon my friends. 
 And thus, before the struggle is begun, 
 Consume their means? Besides, it does not press 
 This year. Winter's breaking in. They'll ne'er 
 At such a season, dare the Ebernburg 
 To approach. Before, howe'er, the army I 
 Disband, the pledge I'll take from all the captains 
 That, with the first rays of the spring's warm sun. 
 Equipped, and strengthened with new levies, all 
 The squadrons they shall lead back in my camp. 
 
 Furs. But what propose you with the palsgrave to — 
 
 Franz. Twelve noble youths upon their swords' point shall 
 To him from Sickingen the challenge bear — 
 Renounce my further fealty to him. 
 
 [To UlricM 
 You, Ulrich, I will send to mighty Zurich, 
 Whose brave confederates their help have long 
 Been proffering to me, if ever needed. 
 I need it now ! There, where you loved and honored 
 Are, press the proffered help. Lead to my burgs 
 Strong files of yon axe-wielding, brave reserves. 
 
 [To the knights.'\ 
 With you I shall a day appoint at Schweinfurt; 
 Assemble there with your kith and kin; 
 The whole nobility I will convene 
 To a conference. It is for you now true 
 To prove that which at Landau you did swear. 
 Our federation's members all must arm themselves; 
 To arms I'll call the Nation's full knighthood! 
 
 All, Rely on us, as on yourself you would! 
 
 Franz. A trial only was this slight campaign. 
 Next year we'll execute the final work! 
 Exposed is now the hand of our foes. 
 A clear line now parts enemy from friend. 
 The vict'ry's ours, provided true to you 
 Your former valor keeps. We now our full 
 Strength will deploy, and did not so before. 
 The winter for recruiting utilize — 
 A signal unto all the new sun be. 
 The first breath of returning spring shall both 
 Of winter's ice and tyrants' chain emancipate 
 Our country's soil. — ^& new year brings a Nation new. 
 
FRANZ VON SICKINGEN. 115 
 
 AU. The new year, hail ! and hail your steady fortune ! 
 [The curtain closes.'] 
 
 ACT V. 
 
 Scene I. — A vaulted and strongly constructed tower-chamber in the 
 burg of Landstuhl, which is closely besieged by the confederated 
 Princes — the Palsgrave Ludwig, the Landgrave Philip and the 
 Archbishop Richard, Fbanz is in an arm-chair, in full armor 
 but without helmet. A few steps behind him, Balthasab en- 
 gaged in reading letters and indicting messages in cipher. At 
 the opposite end of the chamber, the knight of Rudesheim at a 
 table with a bumper of wine before him. Marie enters and 
 leaves the chamber in the course of household duties. From 
 time to time, the booming of cannon is heard. 
 
 Bud. [Rising and violently laying down the bumper of wine that 
 he had carried to his lips.] 
 
 Abominable! E'en the wine no longer tastes! 
 
 And justly so! When out the spark of manhood goes 
 
 Fidelity, the country's wine, may well to gall 
 
 Be turned, this craven generation's joys of life 
 
 Embitter. 
 Franz. Oh, Rudesheim! Slander not 
 
 Our friends imtil their fault is manifest. 
 Rud. How can it clearer be ? Is not our plight 
 
 Sufficient proof? The crashing of the foe's 
 
 Besieging guns ? And this last hole, that ill 
 
 Could long protect us from their murd'rous shot? 
 Franz. You know,' much earlier did the foe appear 
 
 Than I myself expected him to see. 
 
 Our friends have no suspicion of our plight. 
 Rud. If th' enemy's hate could be beforehand, why 
 
 Should not the zeal of our friends? Besides, 
 
 Have you not letter upon letter plied, 
 
 In cipher neatly framed by Balthasar? 
 Balth. Not all the letters safely reach their destination, 
 
 And quicker does the foe's suspicious eye 
 
 A runner's cloak see through than he the foe's 
 
 Besieging army could run through. 
 Rud. Nonsense ! 
 
 Since long has spring set in. Of their own 
 
116 FRANZ VON SICKINGEN. 
 
 Accord they long ago should here have been. 
 Franz. Indeed, from day to day have I relief 
 
 Expected, both from them, and from the troops 
 
 I ordered to recruit. 
 Rud. 'Tis now a full 
 
 Eight days youVe nursed these hopes ; but this is clear 
 
 To me, no second week you'll have to wait : 
 
 We may before that time be buried 'neath 
 
 The ruins of this tower. Strong it is. 
 
 But still, not at the Ebernburg are we. 
 
 The indomitable fort! They there might long 
 
 Have shot; nor could they there ever thus 
 
 Have hemmed us in 
 
 [J. frightful crash is heard over the roof of the tower; all 
 except Fram,« start up alarmed.'] 
 Hark! Hark! 
 [Anxiously inspecting the roof.] 
 
 How long think you — 
 
 Before these blocks of stone will roll upon 
 
 Us down, and nine-pins play upon our heads? 
 Frane, [Rising and walking through the chamber vnth his arms 
 crossed, and muttering to himself.] 
 
 'Tis true! In all my life I have not heard 
 
 Such frightful cannonade! Not even in 
 
 Th' imperial wars was anything like this. 
 Rud. And heaven only knows whence they have dragged 
 
 So many pieces of artillery. 
 Franz. Within so short a time, so closely pressed 
 
 To be in such a fortifiM place — 
 
 I never would have thought it! Much it looks. 
 
 Besides, as if some spirit in each ball 
 
 Did lodge — as though they accurately knew 
 
 Each secret of the burg. Its weakest spots 
 
 The cannons ever hit. This is remarkable! 
 [Stops meditatively.] 
 Balth. The devil fights for his own ministers. 
 Rud. [Clenching his fist.] 
 
 With rage I boil ! To think we here must lie 
 
 A target for their shot, while in the field 
 
 We could ourselves the crew knock in a heap! 
 Franz. [Resumes his seat.] 
 
 Be still! And should the tower fall, we then 
 
FRANZ VON SICKINGEN. 117 
 
 Shall in the rock-groove safety find. 
 Rtid. So that 
 
 Like an entrappfed toad they drag you from 
 
 The heap of stone? Well may you free of blame 
 
 Our friends pronounce! The largest share yourself 
 
 Do bear. Upon yourself more hot alights 
 
 The rage that boils within my veins. 
 Franz. On met 
 
 Rud. You understand me well! Is it myself 
 
 I care for? Upon your freedom, on 
 
 Your safety all depended. With you stands 
 
 Or falls our federation. Yours the blame 
 
 For our distress! I speak not now of your 
 
 Untimely magnanimity when all 
 
 The friends, that now have left you in the lurch, 
 
 With th' army you disbanded. No! But here. 
 
 In Landstuhl, lock yourself instead of in 
 
 Your strongest fort, the Ebemburg 
 
 Franz. [Almost angrily.] You know. 
 
 The enemy surprised me here — 
 Rud. Surprised? 
 
 With still a half day in which to move, before 
 
 The en'my*s cavalry appeared upon 
 
 The forest's skirts, three hundred men 
 
 Did you dismiss, lest space and rations failed 
 
 Ourselves. Oh, how I begged you to withdraw 
 
 With them! In fullest safety could you then 
 
 Have gone — but you 
 
 Franz. [With an effort.] Disgraceful had it been 
 
 From such a etrong place in the en'my's face 
 
 To flee, without the firing of a shot! 
 
 How would it have become my place, intent 
 
 Upon myself alone, the nobles and 
 
 My trusty men, who for protection threw 
 
 Themselves into this burg, here helpless to 
 
 Forsake! 
 Rud. So said you then, and that it is 
 
 That I can never pardon you! What of 
 
 Such men as them and me! The only prize 
 
 Are you. Our cause would brilliantly have stood 
 
 Had you but ridden off — the burg I could 
 
 Have held as well as you. 
 
iki FRANZ VON SICKINGEN. 
 
 Franz. The presence of 
 
 The general gives courage to his men, 
 
 Their veins warms with determination's fire. 
 Rud. E'en so! The burg I would have held, have held 
 
 As long as e'er a stone remained upon 
 
 Another. And e'en if they took it, what 
 
 Was lost? With half an army had they paid 
 
 For but a dreary heap of ruins, while 
 
 At Ebernburg you would be laughing in 
 
 Their face. They would not have to such a pass 
 
 Brought us. If free, you could yourself the friends 
 
 Have spurred. That would the laggards have inspired. 
 
 Their forces heading, now upon his rear, 
 
 You could the enemy assail. 
 Franz. It is 
 
 The sluggish steed that needs the rider's spur. 
 
 What stronger spur is there than the pledged word? 
 Bud. You see yourself how standeth that. What all 
 
 Was promised you! As far as from Bohemia 
 
 Were men to come. Not one has come! When then 
 
 Imploringly I urged you thither march. 
 
 Your answer was you would, when proper time 
 
 Had come. The time has come! Now show me hovr. 
 
 Unless you wings can take, the feat you could 
 
 Accomplish. 
 Marie. [Entering with a goblet of wine which she presents to 
 Rudesheim.'] 
 
 Now, Sir Knight, I other wine 
 
 Have here. It is of our best. It will 
 
 Taste surely good, and soften your displeasure. 
 
 Please take, and drink, and vex my father not 
 
 With these reproaches. 
 Rud. Charming maid! Your voice 
 
 Much better than the wine drives off whate'er 
 
 Displeasure I might feel. An angel are you! 
 
 I think to you alone we owe that still 
 
 The burg refuses o'er our heads to tumble down. 
 
 It is a touching sight how, not a word 
 
 Complaining, mild and smiling, you support 
 
 The trials of the siege. 
 Franz. \Nodding his daughter to come to him; she leans over and 
 
 cuddles close to her father."] 
 
FRANZ VON SICKINGEN. 119 
 
 Marie! [Fondling herJl 
 Philip! 
 See, now, how wrong you are! You praise bestow 
 On her that she remained; yet did she not 
 Sin grievously her father to deceive? 
 The day that I the mounted troops sent off, 
 With them I ordered her to part. But she. 
 Conspiring with her maid, seemed leave to take, 
 While one of her attendants, in her velvets, 
 Herself impersonated. I could not 
 Descend below. My time was too engaged. 
 She kept herself concealed ; and when the foe 
 Appeared — [Fondling her.'] 
 
 The impostress turned up in the evening. 
 
 Rud. And right she was. Her place is next to you 
 
 [A crash, produced ty the enemy^s cannon, heavier than 
 before, and followed hy the rush of tumhUng masonry, 
 starts all except Franz, who looks around from his 
 seat.] 
 Franz. A hard knock that one was. It cost a good 
 Piece of the wall. Go, Philip, see what damage 
 That shot has done. The rip repair quick. 
 Rud. [Putting on his helmet.] I shall do so! 
 
 [Exit Rudesheim in haste; also Marie, silently.] 
 
 Scene II. — Franz; Balthasar leans lack from his desk. A short 
 pause. Franz directs upon him a long and inquiring look, 
 Balthasar looks blankly before him. 
 
 Franz. Now, Balthasar? 
 
 Balth. ^ Sir? 
 
 Franz. Have not you also 
 
 Some cross reproach in readiness? Your cold. 
 
 Contracted mien denotes it clearly. 
 
 Speak up — the army I disbanded, have 
 
 Before the foe not wished to flee, and have. 
 
 Who knows, what other things done wrong! Speak openly t 
 
 Cut up among yourselves the drooping lion's skin — 
 
 Of all of these, what do you blame me on? 
 Balth. [Solemnly.] 
 
 I? Nothing! 
 Franz. [Rises and walks the chamber.] 
 
 Then, indeed, must matters badly. 
 
120 FRANZ VON SICKINGEN. 
 
 Aye, very badly stand with me, if now 
 Not even a reproach has Balthasar for me! 
 
 Balth. You err! To youngish fools I leave the task 
 To carp at things that but the sequence are 
 Of the once treaded path. The path is what 
 Concerns us, not the separate steps, that one 
 By one the path compels, and, closely linked, 
 Contrives. 
 
 Franz. What are you driving at? 
 
 Balth. Sir, have 
 
 You any faith in death's presentiments? 
 
 Franz. Old man, what is upon your mind? 
 
 Balth. That man 
 
 His hour of death fore-feels, believe I not. 
 But this he does—his deadly enemyy 
 There is no creature but fore-feels instinctively — 
 It seems a law to be that runs through Nature, 
 Itself in e'en the animals asserting. 
 The bird, its fate fore-feeling, trembles shy 
 In terror at the rattlesnake's regard; 
 Before the hot simoon is nigh, with eyes 
 Shut, down upon the earth the camel throws 
 Himself affrighted. Still more powerful 
 This instinct active is in man. Unto 
 Your friend you must yourself reveal, and oft 
 In vain the friendly assurance give. Alone 
 The enemy, howe'er yourself you may 
 Disguise, fore-feels you at once — his gauge is true. 
 His hatred far more rightly takes your measure 
 Than does the mass ; more rightly than your friend. 
 Life's instinct quickly scents the danger that 
 Your being threatens his withal. Strong men 
 Are by the enemy detected long 
 Before their friends draw hopefully to them. 
 Thus Sulla of old did long before foretell 
 The then still stripling Caesar would the old 
 Nobility of Rome cast down, when still 
 No Marius friend in him the queller saw 
 Of th' ancient optimates. 
 
 Franz. What has all that 
 
 With our present case to do? 
 
 Balth. What has 
 
 It with our present case to do? You knew 
 
FRANZ VON SICKINGEN. 121 
 
 It not ; and for you knew it not you now 
 
 So dearly pay! The Princes did you think 
 
 With the campaign 'gainst Treves to hoodwink? They, 
 
 You thought, would take it for a mere feud, 
 
 A simple issue 'tween yourself and Richard! 
 
 The Princes you did not deceive. By an 
 
 Unerring instinct led, in you their hate 
 
 The deadly en'my of their station saw. 
 
 In all the courts of Germany the word 
 
 Resounded loud: Not since there Princes were 
 
 Did ever such a common danger rise? 
 
 Your friends alone you carefully deceived — 
 
 A Nation in this feud concerned was — 
 
 Hence stirs she not: The towns, the peasants — all 
 
 Leave you with your own strength the private feud 
 
 To end, while the initial failure drives 
 
 The nohles timid from the open — 
 {Raising his voice."] 
 
 Yourself the arteries of your strength 
 
 Have bound ; the heart's own life blood back you drove 
 
 That would have flowed to you — 
 Franz. Oh, Balthasar! 
 
 Desist; oppress me not with your reproach. 
 
 It could not otherwise be done — 'twas still 
 
 Too soon to openly declare myself. 
 
 The town of Treves, strategic place, of all 
 
 I needed first. The plan was good, and well 
 
 Was ev'ry calculation made. Who can 
 
 Control the whim of accident — who may 
 
 Convert it cryelly into a charge? 
 Balth. Oh, call not accident what is effect! 
 
 Because on accident we can not count, 
 
 'Tis folly on its slipp'ry head to place 
 
 The fate of time. Was it too early still? 
 
 You should then quietly have known to wait. 
 
 But once you sallied forth, your part had been 
 
 To openly 'gainst Charles the banner raise; 
 
 The reformation of the Church and realm 
 
 With large strokes, plainly legible upon 
 
 Your banner to inscribe; or better yet, 
 
 By virtue of the title and the right, 
 
 Boldly as Emperor yourself proclaim — 
 
122 FRANZ VON SICKINGEN. 
 
 Unchain the Nation's flood, that painfully 
 
 Its banks restrain. That had been wiser than 
 
 To play with friends at blind-man's buff — a game 
 
 That Minded not a single man among your foes. 
 
 — Well calculated, said you? Aye! It was 
 
 That very thing! You're thrown down by your cleverness. 
 
 The greater deed you could have carried out; 
 
 The smaller you can not! 
 
 Oh, not the first are you, and will not be 
 
 The last his neck to break at the attempt 
 
 In great things cleverness to try. Disguise 
 
 Will never stead upon the stage of history. 
 
 Where, in the masses' turmoil, man is known 
 
 But by his armor and device. Therefore, 
 
 From head to foot yourself wrap bold 
 
 Within the folds of your true colors. Then 
 
 You draw in the gigantic struggle on 
 
 The full resources of your actual aim. 
 
 And stand or fall in fullest exercise 
 
 Of all your powers. Not your fall is what 
 
 Most shocks, but that you fall in fullest bloom 
 
 Of your unconquered, unavail&d strength. 
 
 — 'Tis that that least a hero can endure. 
 Franz. [Who has been pacing the chamber with increasing agiti 
 
 Hon, stops suddenly.l 
 
 So, then, you take me really for lost? 
 Balth. Sir, did I so, such language never would 
 
 I hold to you, and gall your great soul with 
 
 Reproach's sting! No! Nothing yet is lost, 
 
 That boldness could not doubly win again. 
 
 How, Sir, is this mouse-hole the limit of 
 
 Franciscus' power ? Sir, in yoUj your name 
 
 The confidence that in the people's heart 
 
 In warm pulsation throbs for you — in that 
 
 Your power lies. The thick walls of this burg 
 
 But keep away the Nation and your own 
 
 Strength from yourself. Ill bears the land the load 
 
 Of the contemned temporal regime. 
 
 Or clergy's tyranny; ere long it may 
 
 Attempt the yoke to throw, aye, e'en without 
 
 Your aid! — 
 
 [Confidentially approaching Franz and in a lower tone.^ 
 
FRANZ VON SICKINGEN. 123 
 
 Sir, when in Alsace and the upper lands 
 
 I was for you recruiting, many an odd 
 
 Thing did I learn, and many a secret spied. 
 
 It seethes among the peasants! Something brews! 
 
 It spreads afar through all the provinces. 
 
 As under scanty coatings lies concealed 
 
 The pregnant, devastating lap of the 
 
 Volcano, now a conflagration gleams 
 
 Below the surface — 
 
 -{With toarmth.] Speak the right word, and 
 
 The fires, that now flicker in the dark. 
 
 Will outward leap in lambent tongues of flame. 
 
 The country call, and hundred thousand peasants 
 
 Will rise — a ready army at your will. 
 
 Pronounce the word, and uttering it bestow 
 
 All Germany upon yourself for army, 
 
 Yourself upon all Germany for leader! 
 Franz, [Oreatly moved and raising his hands to heoAjenJ] 
 
 I will — that is 
 
 [Dropping his armsJ] 
 
 I toish I could! but, oh! 
 
 You dream! Do you forget that in this burg 
 
 An army holds me prisoner? 
 Balth. [Approaching Franz icith a scrutinizing loofe.] 
 
 Therefore, 
 
 The problem is the means to find for free 
 
 Egress. Suppose you purchased that by the 
 
 Surrender of this burg? 
 Franz. Surrender it? — 
 
 And even if I willed can you believe 
 
 That they would enter into such a pact? 
 
 Of war the custom immemorial is, 
 
 Before the investment of a burg, to summon its 
 
 Surrender, granting the withdrawal of 
 
 Its garrison, provided that, without 
 
 The firing of a shot, the place it yield. 
 Balth. I know. 
 Franz. And also know that when they invested me— 
 
 Although they safely could have done so, free 
 
 From fear of acceptance, as they knew 
 
 Themselves — to me no summons issued they. 
 
 They acted thus, when strong still was the burg, 
 
124 FRANZ VON SICKINGEN. 
 
 When more than once I drove them back with sallies. 
 
 Broke through their trenches, and was buoyed up with 
 
 The daily expectation of relief. 
 
 And now, now when I'm locked in tight, the burg 
 
 Almost demolished — now you think they'd grant us that? 
 
 Oh, that they'll never do. It is myself. 
 
 And not the burg, they are striving to secure. 
 
 Balth. Nor did I mean it so. Now listen. Sir! 
 
 In first rate trim, withal well-manned and officered. 
 Your other burgs the en'my still defy. 
 The Drachenfels, the Hohenburg, 'bove all, 
 The Ebernburg, gives them concern. They will 
 Approach them but with dread. E'en in 
 Your absence could the en'my never hope, 
 If ever they succeed, without a long 
 Protracted siege to force them. Besides — 
 They know not yet how closely pinched we here 
 Are now. Indeed, they otherwise would not 
 Accept the proposition. Now, howe'er — 
 How would it be if to their harm you could 
 Succeed to bribe them? All your burgs surrender. 
 In payment for your safe withdrawal hence. 
 
 Franz. [With a startJ] 
 
 You rave! The Ebernburg! The bulwark of 
 My power! — Shall 
 
 Balth. [With pathos.'] The Nation languishes 
 
 Outside their walls ; she's waiting for your orders. 
 
 Franz. [Impatiently stamping on the floor.] 
 
 Where are the men! Where are they all, I pray — 
 Aremberg, Horn, Furstenberg! The Swiss, 
 The men of Strasburg, those of Landau, where! 
 Where are they now, the men who once so much, 
 So much did promise — ^yet so little kept ? 
 
 Balth. [Deeply moved.] 
 
 And if they came they now would come too late! 
 Sir, grieve not thus. An easier struggle than 
 The present conquers back whate'er you lost. 
 What cares he, who would a whole world win. 
 Some clods of land to cast away! But, Sir, 
 Reflect, 'bove all the time cries haste. Should now 
 Some accident reveal to them our stress, 
 They'll never do it! 
 
FRANZ VON SICKINGEN. ISM^ 
 
 Frana. [After a violent internal struggle.^ 
 
 Call the herald in! 
 
 [Exit Balthasar, and presently returns with herald^ 
 
 Herald! To th' enemy I send you forth. 
 
 I order you this charge to hurl at them: — 
 
 On me you have the laws of war infringed; 
 
 Ye have the hurg not summoned. Now do I 
 
 My right demand, the right you faiUd in. 
 
 In guarantee of safe withdrawal by 
 
 AW living, now the burg I leave to them. 
 [Herald hows."] 
 Balth. And is that all you have to say to themT 
 Franz. Oh, Balthasar! I can not — can no further got 
 
 I can myself not offer what with shame. 
 
 Repugnance only I could grant. If they 
 
 Bade such condition — then, perhaps — ^but I — 
 
 Myself — no, never! Never, Balthasar! 
 Balth. I fully understand you. Sir! Myself 
 
 The herald will accompany. I will 
 
 The en'my seek, will lead his tongue that it 
 
 The prearranged place may reach, and down 
 
 Lay the conditions that we're ready to 
 
 Accept. 
 Fra/nz, [Embracing him."] 
 
 Upon your tongue I leave my honor, 
 Balth, Rely on me. 
 
 [They embrace again; exit Balthasar with the herald 
 through one door, Franz through another. 
 
 Scene III. — A tap-room in an isolated inn of the Upper Rhine, li 
 is late in tffe evening. The room is dark. A strong rap is heard 
 at the door. 
 
 Inn-keeper. [From a side room."] 
 Yes! Yes! 
 
 [The rapping continues.^ 
 
 I'm coming. 
 [The rapping redoubles; inn-keeper enters unth a lantern.'] 
 Patience! Not so hard; 
 Who is it raps so heathenishly there? 
 
 [Reaches the door and opens.'] 
 Well ! Well ! ! For one who through such hellish storm 
 On foot foots it; you make a devilish noise! 
 
126 FRANZ VON ZICKINGEN. 
 
 Jos. Fritz. [Disguised with a large heard, and a Ug patch acrosi 
 his face.'] 
 
 Hew! [Makes a secret sign to the inn-keeper.] 
 Jnnk. What? One of our brotherhood? Oh, then 
 Excuse me! 
 
 [Jos Fritz steps forward and removes his false beard and 
 plaster; his garb is a somewhat fantastical imitation 
 of a knighVs costume; around his waist he carries a 
 belt in which several daggers a/nd a sword are stuck. 
 The inn-keeper, who carefully re-closed the door, re- 
 turns to the new arrival.] 
 
 What! Is't you, Jos Fritz? Welcome, 
 Most heartily! And have you just arrived? 
 Joa. [His speech is rapid and jerky.] 
 Arrived last night in this vicinity. 
 To-day I made the rounds of the surrounding farms. 
 Innk. Where come you from? Where were you? Have ye news 
 
 For me ? 
 Jos. Hoho! You fall upon me like 
 
 A gate-clerk, and no time to answer do 
 You give me with your string of questions. Long 
 I've been away. Have traveled far. And now 
 I bring you weighty tidings. Not a few. 
 The thing progresses well. Where'er I came 
 In all the German districts, ready is 
 The peasant for the plow. Th* extortions of 
 The priests, th' oppression of the Lords have reached 
 Their limit. Far and wide is ev'ry thing 
 In first-class readiness. But little now 
 We need and — ^th' hour strikes. The first event, 
 That fitting seems, will be the signal for 
 The start. — But this is not the time to chat. 
 You soon will hear more. I hither have 
 Convened the brothers of the commons. I 
 Expect them any moment. Hurry up. 
 Bring here some lights — 
 
 [A rap is heard at the door.] 
 
 Hoho! They're rapping now. 
 Shall myself open, and the pass-word take. 
 Meanwhile attend to your affairs, but place 
 The lights far back, that they may leave the door 
 Aa dark as possible. 
 
fRANZ VON ZICKINGEN. I2t 
 
 [The inn-keeper steps into an adjoining room whence he 
 fetches lights, chairs a/nd bumpers, which he arranges 
 at and on a long table at one comer of the room; Jos 
 Fritz goes to the door and partly opens i^.] 
 The pass-word! Speak! What kind of fellow's that? 
 1st Peasant. We can not heal of priests and noblemen. 
 Jos, That's right. Draw near. 
 
 {Shuts the door; to the peasant, who has proceeded to take 
 off his mantle and slouch hat that had hidden his facej} 
 Oh, Hans of the Mats! 
 [Oives him his Twnd.ll 
 1st P. Am I the first? 
 
 Jos. The first. But you'll not have 
 
 To wait a long time. Easy make yourself. 
 
 [A rap hea/rd at the door.'\ 
 Hoho! Hallo! I told you so. They come. 
 
 [Hastens to the door to open it as before.'] 
 The pass-word! Speak! What kind of fellow's that? 
 tnd P. We can not heal of priests and noblemen. 
 Jos. Good! Step in! 
 
 Jnnk, [Who has in the meantime arranged the chairs and bumpers.1 
 So, now I am ready, and can 
 Relieve you. 
 
 [Stations himself at the door while Jos Fritz steps forward 
 again; in rapid succession enter several peasants whom 
 the inn-keeper admits after a whispered exchange of 
 words; some of the peasants sit down at the table, others 
 surround Jos Fritz and converse in whispers.] 
 tnd P. . Then you think we may upon 
 
 The towns depend? 
 *tos. Hm! As I told you, Jacklein, 
 
 The lower townsfolk everywhere are found 
 Inclined to us; in many places are 
 
 The artisans our friends. 'Tis otherwise I 
 
 Among the councilmen and retainers. If i 
 
 Alone we in the movement stand, they ne'er 
 Will join the peasant. But in case of need. 
 They'll be compelled, 
 tnd. P. I think we're now complete. 
 
 You may begin, Jos. 
 «^o». Take your seats. You all. 
 
128 FRAN2 VON ZICKINGEN. 
 
 {They sit down; Jos Fritz takes the chairmanship at the 
 head of the table.] 
 We should be fifteen. Are we all together ? 
 3rd P. The crooked Stephen is not here. 
 A Peas, I am! 
 
 3rd P. We're then complete. 
 4th P. Fifteen. 
 
 Jos. Fifteen. None fails. 
 
 Iiet's, then, begin. But first the door lock. 
 
 {The inn-keeper steps to the door and turns the key, and re- 
 turns to the table.'] 
 My brothers! You are now assembled for 
 The purpose of receiving my report. 
 And also instructions for your further conduct. 
 The hour now is near when — 
 
 {Hard raps at the door; all listen toith intent attention,] 
 2nd P. Some one 
 
 Is rapping! who could that be? 
 Innk. I won't open. 
 
 Other Peasants. Indeed, not! 
 
 1st P. Yet it might attention call 
 
 If you refuse to open. 
 
 {The raps are repeated.] 
 3rd P. Think of it! 
 
 It might be spies! 
 Jos, Then all the more would it 
 
 Be necessary to admit the man. 
 
 {Pointing significantly to his armed belt.] 
 Dumbness — alone insures us against 
 A spy's mouth. 
 4th P. Yes, Jos Fritz! And if it such 
 
 A scamp is — 
 Jos. {Angrily.] Put your knife away, Hans Thoughtless! 
 You're always running over. 
 {The raps continue; to the peasants.] 
 
 All assume an 
 Unconcerned mien, as though you sat 
 Here comfortably drinking. 
 
 {To the inn-keeper.] Now, you open. 
 Innk, If so you will. 
 
 Jos. Hold! Give me time to put 
 
 On my disguise. 
 
FRANZ VON ZICKINGEN. ' 129 
 
 [Re-assumes his plaster and false heard; the inn-keeper 
 opens.] 
 
 Scene IV. — Uleich von Hutten; the former. 
 
 See to my horse. 
 [Exit inn-keeper; Ulrich steps forward.] 
 
 This is 
 A howling night! How much at one are both 
 The weather and my breast! The rain beats down 
 In torrents, and, torrential, rush sad thoughts 
 Across my soul, all manly fortitude 
 Unloos'ning. As the lightning's yellow sheen 
 With hurried, flick'ring flash the darkness lights, 
 Uncertainty shoots, painful, through my breast. 
 In fear's glaring light revealing the 
 Unknown condition of my friend. 
 
 {While speaking, Ulrich has taken off his cap, mantle and 
 gloves, and laid them on a table in the opposite corner 
 where the peasants are seated; all the while these hav( 
 affected to he engaged in general conversation, hut care 
 fully scrutinized Ulrich, Jos Fritz above all.] 
 Jos. [To himself.] 
 
 This knight, I think, I know. 
 Ulrich. [To the inn-keeper who just re-enters.] 
 
 Are you the inn-keeper? 
 Inhk. I am, if it please your worship. 
 Ulrich. Fetch me quick 
 
 Some wine. 
 Innk. Yes, Sir. [Exit.] 
 
 Jos. [Risen from his seat to obtain a better view of Ulrich, and 
 stealthily walking around him while he stands lost in thought.] 
 
 By God, may I be hanged 
 If 'tis not he! 
 
 [Draws nearer to Ulrich, and then steps back a few feet.] 
 There is no doubt; 'tis he! 
 What favorable accident! — To let 
 The chance slip by, Jos Fritz, were stupid — aye. 
 Decidedly more stupid than befits 
 You! — How this meeting ripens suddenly 
 To fullest bloom the misty thoughts, the plans 
 I vaguely formulated, and the hopes 
 I nursed in silence! Come! If one there be 
 
130 FRANZ VON ZICKINGEN. 
 
 "Who could on him prevail, *tis he — and he 
 
 The one who also has the toill. If e'er 
 
 The time was fit, 'tis now! Hew! Up, and at itti 
 [Approaches Ulrich determinately.'] 
 Vlrich. [To himself.'] 
 
 The first night back again on German soil! — 
 
 I may of service be to them, and may, 
 
 Though meager, tidings gather from them here. 
 
 [Looks up and sees Jos Fritz, who, quite near, is intently 
 gassing at him; seizes the handle of his sword.'] 
 
 What do you want ? Back, if you please ! 
 Jo8. Sir knight. 
 
 You do not recognize me? Speak, I pray! 
 Ulrich. As little as, I hope, you do myself. 
 Jos. How now, Sir knight! I should not know you, SirT 
 
 Not know the flower of your rank! The best 
 
 Man in all Germany! But no; I will 
 
 Not flatter you. There's one who lives, and who 
 
 Your peer is; and that one is also your 
 
 Best friend. With pride, and not with envy, is, 
 
 [Draunng still closer, and in a voice low enough not to he 
 heard hy the peasants.] 
 
 Frwnciscus^ praise fulfilled by Ulrich von Eutten. 
 Ulrich. [Steps hack amazed.] 
 
 And who are you? 
 Jos. Oh! I forgot you do 
 
 Not see me now in all the splendor of 
 
 My beauty. Excuse me. Soon I'll be myself. 
 
 [Removes "beard and plaster, which he throws upon the table 
 of the peasants.] 
 
 So, now, perhaps, your memory will serve 
 
 You better. 
 Ulrich. What! Is't you, Jos Fritz? 
 
 Jos. The same! 
 
 Ulrich. [Looking round.] 
 
 Then keep an eye upon the tip-staves of 
 
 The law. Not yet have they forgot your work 
 
 At Lehen, nor much less at Untergrunenbach. 
 Jos. Pshaw! Times have changed. Perhaps the time is nigh 
 
 When Jos Fritz needs the tip-staves fear no more. 
 Ulrich. At any rate, a better meeting I 
 
 Could not have prearranged. You are, Jos Fritz, 
 
J'RANZ VON ZICKINGEN. Wl 
 
 iTie trumpet of the realm, a veritable 
 
 Guild-master of fresh news. Whatever, and 
 
 Wherever, ever happed, oft e'en before 
 
 It happed— you knew't. My soul's impatience 
 
 You now can calm with tidings of Franciscus. 
 Jos, Indeed, none could report m6re fully, Sir. 
 
 I just have come from that vicinity. 
 
 But whence come you that naught about your friend 
 
 You know? 
 Ulrich. I straight from Zurich come. 
 
 Jos, Then truth 
 
 Did Rumor spread, reporting thither you 
 
 Had gone for help from the confederates 
 
 For Franz? Did you succeed? 
 Ulrich. I would, had not 
 
 Ulrich of Wurtenberg — who an exile lives 
 
 In Zurich, and, though banished, still a curse 
 
 Is on the German people — burning still 
 
 With hatred 'gainst Franciscus and myself — 
 
 Succeeded, through his followers and strong 
 
 Connections that he there enjoys, to thwart 
 
 Me in securing from the Swiss the aid 
 
 They pledged their word to give us. 
 Jos, Better so! 
 
 Ulrich, What? Better so, say you? 
 Jos. Excuse me. Sir. 
 
 My tongue tripped. All the worse, I meant to say. 
 Ulrich. When I perceived that vain were my endeavors, 
 
 I quitted Zurich to return to Franz, 
 
 And to him lead my yearning steps. — But, now. 
 
 Instead of yourself speaking, me you make 
 
 To speak. Inform me how stand things with Franz? 
 Jos, Another thing; how late have you from him 
 
 Had news? 
 Ulrich. The last reliable tidings that 
 
 We had was that the palsgrave's lands he raided, 
 
 And took by storm the strong place of Vorberg. 
 
 Since then, no further message have we had. 
 Jos. Yes, that was in the winter. But since then 
 
 The tables turned. Before he knew, and long 
 
 Before his army had assembled, all 
 
 The three confederated Princes drew 
 
132 FRANZ VON ZICKINGElSf. 
 
 'Gainst Landstuhl, his own burg, in joint array* 
 
 Vlrich. [Nervously.'] 
 
 And was he inside? Could he not retreat 
 To Ebernburg? 
 
 Jos. He could! But did not do't. 
 
 I think he now regrets that he did not. 
 At first he held out well; he drove them back. 
 And captured Henry of Elz, together with 
 His whole brigade of mounted men. He then 
 A jeering trumpeter sent out to them: 
 New cannons had they, he new walls; he now 
 Was curious to hear how that would sound 
 Together. — Counting upon help and prompt 
 Relief from his allies — 
 
 Ulrich. [With increasing impatience,] 
 
 And what did theyT 
 The knights, the federation of Landau? 
 
 Jos. But ever larger forces trooped into 
 
 The Princes' camp. They locked him in, and met 
 His wishes. His best batt'ries soon they shot 
 To pieces — 
 
 Ulrich. [Beyond control.'] 
 
 But his friends, his allies, where 
 Were they? 
 
 Jos. Oh, Sir! With them it all has changed. 
 
 The larger number now are circumspect 
 And doubtful; others not quite ready with 
 Their armaments. The worst of all is that 
 The trouble came too quick. Franz is not yet 
 Supposed to be at such a frightful pass. 
 The Furstenbergs — 
 
 Ulrich. How? Also they have left 
 
 Franciscus in the lurch? 
 
 Jos. No. Listen, Sir! 
 
 Two messengers he sent to them his stress 
 Announcing, urging haste upon them. 
 From them he surely help had got. But both 
 Were caught — I happened then in camp to be. 
 When in the second one was brought. — Sir, ne'er 
 Have I such frantic joy beheld! By Franz 
 Himself confirmed, the letter said that he 
 Was lost, if quick, with th' others named therein, 
 
FRANZ VON ZICKINGEN. 133 
 
 They did not come to his relief. 
 Ulrich. Franz lost! 
 
 May sooner heaven's vault upon us crash! 
 
 [To the inn-keeper. 1 
 Bring out my horse. The errand I myself 
 Will ride, and in their burgs 'the sleepers wake ! 
 From burg to burg a dreadful cry I'll fling: — 
 Franciscus is in danger! Out — 
 Jos, Sir, control 
 
 Yourself ! You could not travel far. You know — 
 The ban is over you! Besides, your help 
 Would come too late. E'en when I left, it stood 
 So bad — Franz himself wrote it — Landstuhl could 
 Not hold out two weeks longer. No, Sir! You 
 Are now too late. The burg is lost. 
 Ulrich. A curse 
 
 Upon your head, that you of him and lost 
 Can prate in one breath! Lost the burg, and Franz 
 Within? ! — If so, I shall go down with him. 
 My horse! — [Rushes to the door.'\ 
 Jos. [Rushing after /itm.] 
 
 But listen, Sir! 
 [Holds and leads him hack hy the arm.'] 
 
 Though he is lost. 
 There still is help! Take hold — and with one blow. 
 Is ev'ry thing from bottom up again 
 Changed for the better. 
 Ulrich. [Dazed.] Help, you say? Did I 
 
 Correctly understand you? Help? 
 Jos. Now, Sir; 
 
 Please listefln, and attentively. 
 
 [Takes Ulrich hy the arm, and speaking to him in a low 
 voice leads him to the rear; at Jos Fritz's first whisp- 
 ered words Ulrich shows signs of deep interest.] 
 2nd P. What can 
 
 Jos Fritz so much to say have to the knight ? 
 1st P. It seems important. Watch how urgently 
 He talks into his ear. And the knight. 
 Just look, can hardly hold himself. Jos throws 
 Him into quite a splutter. 
 Srd P. Be it what 
 
 It may be, he will bring him over to his side. 
 
134 FRANZ VON ZICKINGEN. 
 
 Not in the council of the Emperor, 
 
 Is there a finer head than this Jos Fritz. 
 1st P, Aye, that is so. Jos knows how. And 'tis one 
 
 To him, a peasant or a knight. Where'er 
 
 His hook he hitches, quick he bites him fast. 
 
 And leads you at will, as th' angle does the fish 
 
 That has bitten in the bait. 
 
 [Jos Fritz and Ulrich walk hack to the front, speaking in a 
 low voice, hut violently gesticulating,^ 
 Ulrich. Is it no trick my ears to mislead? 
 
 Most eighty thousand? Said you that? 
 Jos. At least 
 
 That many, that would forthwith rise. — I am 
 
 No learned scribe. I could not neatly count 
 
 Them down with ink and paper. But this much 
 
 I tell you, and my head upon it, Sir: — 
 
 As, when the powder lights, nothing remains 
 
 Behind within the hollow of the cannon. 
 
 But, rather, driven by the powder's vim. 
 
 The complete load like hail does outward fly. 
 
 So all the districts that I named are on 
 
 The watch, impatiently await the signal; — 
 
 In Allgau, Kraigau, Wasgau — all the districts 
 
 That I before have named, together with 
 
 Their teeming populations. Empty hollows. 
 
 That's what the villages become; the land 
 
 Is all alive, and like a wave it rolls. 
 
 What is not quite a child, or has not quite 
 
 Returned to childhood, grabs the halberd, and 
 
 With cheers joins the march. And as before, J 
 
 When nations went in mass migrating, each J 
 
 One pushing on the one ahead, so now. 
 
 One district th' other pushes, drags it 'long 
 
 Unto the great Crusade, our people to 
 
 Emancipate. 
 Ulrich. And what conditions? 
 
 Jos. One 
 
 Alone; the one I told you of. He shall 
 
 Be sworn our leader — he shall swear 
 
 The articles, the twelve, which, like unto 
 
 Jehovah in the fire-column, shall 
 
 A blazing manifesto march before 
 
FRANZ VON ZICKINGEN. 135 
 
 Us all! His standing, following and his 
 
 Unrivalled military genius will 
 
 Our power multiply. With such a head 
 
 The issue of the game is certain to us. 
 
 No better hour could we hope to see! 
 
 Your Ziska tell, will he consent, his aye 
 
 A fiery signal from the mountains will 
 
 Descend unto the valleys, light the sky 
 
 Of Germany, and burn our common foe 
 
 To ashes. 
 Ulrich, [Solemnly.l 
 
 In 80 far as one man may 
 
 Speak for another, with my hand I'll now 
 
 That aye pledge from the bottom of the breast 
 
 Of Franz.— 
 
 [Oives Jos Fritz his hand which is warmly grasped,"] 
 But how to penetrate to him? 
 Jos, Leave that to me. I'll gain you admission to 
 
 The burg in a disguise. Shall thither lead 
 
 You, I myself, and at its foot await 
 
 The answer you may bring. 
 Ulrich. Let us start 
 
 Upon the spot! 
 Jos. This very night! 
 
 Ulrich, No, now! 
 
 Who can command the hour — who, but its 
 
 Own master may dispose of it at will? 
 Jos. Well, as you will! — 
 [To the peasants.^ 
 
 My friends, I hence must on the spot start with 
 
 This knight. The hour of consultation is 
 
 By the approaching act devoured. Great things 
 
 Are on the stocks. Success's sun hangs o'er 
 
 Our plan. Farewell! You'll soon hear more. But three 
 
 Of you shall for a distance keep me company. 
 
 I've many messages to expedite. 
 Several Peasants. We're ready. Those of us that you appoint 
 
 Will follow on your steps. Good luck, Jos Fritz! 
 Others. Good luck! 
 
 [Exit Jos Fritz am,d Ulrich, followed hy aW.] 
 
 Scene V. — The previously described chamber in the hurg of Land- 
 stuhL Fbanz entering from a side-room. 
 
136 FRANZ VON ZICKINGEN. 
 
 Franz. [Lost in meditation.'] 
 
 Not yet returned! Why lingers he? Like 
 Lead the heavy minutes' paces drag along! — 
 It is three hours since he left; to me 
 Each one is lengthened to eternity. 
 And each an endless train leads in its wake 
 Of hopes and fears, to me bewild'ring maze. 
 
 lApproaches a window in the tower, and stretches out his 
 arm.] 
 You yonder lie, my country, sunny and green; 
 The land of my affection and my efforts! 
 My spirit through this window's iron bar 
 Floats down to you upon my vision's rays. 
 He's right! These walls do not protection give, 
 They part me from the Nation! Yonder does 
 She wait, oppressed by heavy chains; she waits 
 In patience that her saviour may arrive. 
 Like arms the hills their lengths extend to me; 
 They beck to me, and draw me to their heart! 
 I come — my hand to it — I will, I vnll 
 Come out to you! No power shall prevent me! 
 
 Scene VI. — Balthasae enters with downcast looks; Feanz. 
 
 Franz. {^Stepping impatiently towards him.] 
 
 At last you come! — but, friend, I plainly read 
 
 The answer in your face. 
 Balth. It is in vain! 
 
 Their boiling hate has leaped all dam, and bluff 
 
 They spurn the semblance e'en of moderation! 
 
 Their hatred makes them blind, it at the same 
 
 Time gives them sight, and wisdom's place assumes. 
 
 'Tis you they want — and only you — they're deaf 
 
 To aught that has not Franz for name. 
 Franz. And what 
 
 About the palsgrave? 
 Balth. He? The worst of all 
 
 The three! His conscience goads him into rage. 
 
 I plainly saw't. In short, they have but one 
 
 Word, this: your unconditional surrender. 
 
 They swore no other pact to make. 
 Franz. I shall 
 
 Surrender? — And yet you offered them 
 
MANZ VON ZICKINGEN. 137 
 
 The Ebernburg and other forts? 
 Balth. No, Sir! 
 
 My old eyes bor&d through their corselets thick 
 
 Into their hearts, still harder than their corselets. 
 
 It was in vain — and, hence, I nothing said. 
 Franz. I thank you, my old friend! Thus honor's saved! 
 
 An unconditional surrender? Do 
 
 Their Arrogancies think I've shrunk so far? 
 
 The fools! Still free does this arm feel itself. 
 Balth. But listen, Sir! In coming back from thence, 
 
 I learned the reason of their arrogance. 
 
 Blindfolded was I led, but when I reached 
 
 The bound'ry of the camp, and they removed 
 
 My band, I turned my head to gaze 
 
 Upon the field. I then saw, near a hedge. 
 
 One of the masons, who engaged had been 
 
 In this burg's fortifying. Quick he ducked 
 
 His head, but I did hail him — trembling he 
 
 Arose, and in the pallor of his face 
 
 Lay the confession of his Judas act! 
 
 Hence comes the spirit that each ball does lead; 
 
 The secrets knowing of the burg, drives them 
 
 Destructive to its weakest spots! When that 
 
 I saw my head I dropped. Is this the case. 
 
 How long can we hold out? 
 
 [Steps towards Franz, and takes his hand mth a painful 
 expression.'] 
 
 Whichever way 
 
 My eyes in scrutiny I turn, escape, 
 
 Sir, can I nowhere see — no — nowhere now! 
 Franz. Oh, treason! That the Princes' weapon is? 
 
 And thereon their Princes' pride is built! 
 
 Drop not your eyes; look up, oh, Balthasar! 
 
 A man's full force is in extreme emergencies 
 
 Deployed, and paling fall away the fears 
 
 That, earth-born, drag him down to earth. 
 
 Up from the shipwreck of his shattered planSy 
 
 Up from the ruins of his cunning, leaps 
 
 His spirit in its native greatness. To 
 
 The immensity of his own strength of will. 
 
 That latent lies in him, he, waxing, turns; 
 
 With closed eyes inhales new strength ; draws in 
 
138 FRANZ VON ZICKINGEN. 
 
 New action from his own resources; and 
 
 The total of his life upon one card 
 
 He stakes. Unburdened thus, he leaps to deeds^ 
 
 That, lightning-like, in but a single instant 
 
 The face of the inevitable change. 
 
 You said by dint of cleverness I failed; 
 
 Well, then, the deed, the bold one, shall redeem me! 
 Balth. What is. Sir, now your plan? 
 Franz. The morning sun 
 
 Success announces smiling to my heart, 
 
 And resolution's fire courses through 
 
 My frame. I come, my country — 
 Balth. [Anxiously.] Speak! What do 
 
 You contemplate? 
 
 [Martial music is heard at a distance; hoth stop to listen.] 
 Franz. Hear you? They approach! Themselves 
 
 They give the signal unto me, and join 
 
 In music with the feeling that within 
 
 My breast is beating time. — 
 An Armor-hearer. [Rushing in.] Sir knight. Oh arm 
 
 Yourself! Along the whole line draws the foe. 
 
 They are about the burg to take by storm. 
 Franz. Thou iron! God of man! Thou magic wand, 
 
 That turneth to reality his wishes! 
 
 Thou last resource, that in despair's night 
 
 Doest glisten on his eye, his freedom's highest 
 
 Pledge! Now unto thy hand to I consign 
 
 My fate. A hostile army's long array 
 
 Its coils winds yonder round about me, and 
 
 Still closer does reproach's coil constrict 
 
 My breast. The double knot you are to cut; 
 
 One of the two you'll cut assuredly! 
 
 Scene VII. — The knight of Rudesheim armed cap-a-pie and with 
 sword drawn, followed by several armor-bearers and soldiers. 
 Close after him Marie, toho anxiously questions Balthasar 
 and the armor-bearers. 
 
 Rud. [Enters precipitately.] 
 
 Have you been told? The en'my means to storm 
 The burg. The ladder-carriers are approaching. 
 
 Franz. [To his armor-bearer.] 
 Bring me my helmet! 
 
FRANZ VON ZICKINGEN. U0 
 
 Marie, Father, I pray, do 
 
 Not this time rush into the thickest of 
 
 The fray. 
 Franz. Keep still, my child! 
 
 [To Rudesheim.] From which side are 
 
 They approaching? 
 Rud, The attack the main gate threats. 
 
 And on the east strong observation squads 
 
 Are posted. 
 Franz. [Has in the meantime donned his helmet.l 
 Good! (Let William of Waldeck 
 
 Lead the defence. — You, Rudesheim, with 
 
 One half of the garrison, the moment that 
 
 They hand to hand have come, a sally make 
 
 From the small gate, and take th' assailants in 
 
 The rear. — My horse and thirty trusty men 
 
 Keep at the garden-gate for me. When with 
 
 Your sally you have drawn upon yourself 
 
 The bulk of th* en'my's forces and his eye, 
 
 I forth will rush — escape! 
 Marie [Screaming.^ Oh, father! Father! 
 
 Franz. I may, perhaps, the near woods gain without 
 
 Encount'ring opposition. Do I so. 
 
 You'll hear from me. Whatever bars my way 
 
 Must be broke through. For death must ev'ry man 
 
 Be ready who accomp'nies me. Now, Rudesheim, 
 
 My word I keep. — / loill go out! 
 Rud. Your plan 
 
 Be blessed! You out, and I upon the foe! 
 
 My men, now follow me! 
 
 [Rushes off with all the soldiers and armor-bearers, but ttoo 
 who remain with Franz.l 
 Marie. [Falling on her father's neck.'] 
 
 Oh, father, I 
 
 Conjure you! Pray venture not without! 
 
 So few men — God — anxiety my blood 
 
 Does freeze! Regard my sad presentiments! 
 
 It will not turn out well — 
 Franz. [Kindly.] Be still, Marie. 
 
 Balth. No, hold him back! I also feel assailed 
 
 With ill forebodings. Yet— he'd better go! 
 
 Should it succeed — Oh, Germany, this day 
 
140 FRANZ VON ZICKINGEN. 
 
 A lustrous one would be! 
 
 [The martial music draws nearer.'] 
 Marie. [Clinging more and more passionately to Frane*s neck, while 
 he seeks to disengage himself.] 
 
 I shall not let 
 You go! Oh, father, I beseech you! 
 Franz. [Forcing himself from Marie*s arms.] 
 My child, be still! Me calls the fatherland. 
 And feverish my heart-beats answer, Aye. 
 Your fate to kindly Powers I confide; 
 They summon me who vengeance wreck on Wrong. 
 I come, my country! Hansom now my flesh 
 Of earthly fault, vainglorious feebleness! 
 If I the wall drew 'tween yourself and me, 
 *Tis now for me to dare to break it through! 
 
 [Exit precipitately with drawn stoord, followed hy the ttoo 
 armor-hearers; Marie falls to the floor.] 
 
 Scene VIII. — Balthasab; Martk. 
 
 Balth. [Rushing to the aid of ifarte.] 
 
 For heaven's sake, young lady! Oh, collect 
 
 Yourself. The courage that you ever showed. 
 
 Preserve it now. 
 Marie, [Slowly rising.] 
 
 Oh, Balthasar! Ne'er yet 
 
 Was I a prey to such anxiety! 
 
 [Takes a step forward ivith clasped hands, distracted,1 
 
 How if I now have for the last time seen 
 
 My father! 
 Balth. No, young lady; no. You'll see 
 
 Your father surely again. Allow not that 
 
 Such phantoms should preoccupy your mind. 
 Marie. Oft has my father gone to battle, yet 
 
 Ne'er was my heart so full of sad forbodings. 
 
 One blow decides the fate of both. 
 Balth. Of both? 
 
 Whom else mean you? 
 Marie. [Starting up and looking around.] 
 
 Could I but outside fly 
 
 And hover over him; could but my eye 
 
 Lead him; my cry would give him warning. 
 Balth. Oh! 
 
FRANZ VON ZICKINGEN. Ul 
 
 Young lady, do you rave ? Collect yourself, 
 
 I pray you! Come — and take this seat. 
 
 [Leads her to a settee.l Myself 
 
 Shall climb to that entablature. The field 
 
 Is swept from th' upper windows. All I see 
 
 I'll let you know. My faithful eyes shall serve 
 
 You for a field-glass. 
 
 [Climhs up to a higher toindow.} 
 
 Ha! Already does 
 
 Our Rudesheim spread death in th' enemy's rear. 
 
 Ha! How he with his grim men hammers them 
 
 In bloody rout! He drives them to the wall! 
 
 There Waldeck mows them down in rows with his 
 
 Stone slingers. Frightful does the battle rage! 
 Marie. And of my father, see you aught ? 
 Balth. Not yet. 
 
 The en'my's reinforced. 
 [/» great excitement.'] 
 
 And Rudesheim 
 
 Divides his forces. With one half he drives 
 
 Them to the ditch. Oh! Woe! No longer do 
 
 I see him. All are thrown together. At 
 
 The main gate thickest is the knot of men. 
 
 The ladders are by Waldeck beaten down. 
 
 Ha! There's Rudesheim! His sword a wide 
 
 Swath cuts. Oh! Bravo, sturdy fellow! Bravo! 
 
 That was a blow! He drops. 
 Marie. Who drops? 
 
 Balth. The knight 
 
 William von Zabern. Ah! the en'my's ranks 
 
 Are wav'ring. Lo! lo! Yonder with his men 
 
 Your father turns the corner! Victory! 
 
 A hundred paces more, and safe the wood 
 
 They reach! The road is clear! 
 Marie. [Leaping up."] Oh, God I 
 
 Balth. [In consternation.'] Woe! Woe! 
 
 What do I see! From out the woods a troop 
 
 Of riders forward rush! They've noticed him. 
 
 Upon him straight they ride. 
 Marie. Oh, God in heaven! 
 
 Balth. They're seventy or eighty! Swords are crossed. 
 
 Your father runs their leader through. 
 
142 FRANZ VON ZICKINGEN. 
 
 [Stamping with his footJ] Flee, Franzl 
 
 Oh, drop your magnanimity! 'Tis now 
 Too late. The ranks are at close quarters drawn. 
 Like lions do our men defend themselves. 
 Despite the en'my's greater numbers. 
 Marie, Do 
 
 You see him still? 
 Balth. Ha! Rudesheim has seen 
 
 His plight. At full tilt does he hasten with 
 A goodly squad to aid him. Could he fly! 
 *The distance still is long! Woe! Franz's plumage 
 I see no more. 
 
 [Marie utters a cry of anguish.'\ 
 
 Yes! Yes! There! There he is, 
 I think. The wall's edge intercepts my view. 
 I'll to the roof where with one look the field 
 Of battle can be taken in. 
 [Descends rapidly.'] 
 Marie. Wringing her hands. No ! No ! ! 
 
 No, Balthasar! 
 Balth. I must unto the roof — my whole existence is 
 
 Compressed within my eyes. Young lady — pray! [Exit.'\ 
 Marie. [Calling after him."] 
 
 Stay, Balthasar! Oh, Balthasar! — ^He's gone! 
 
 Alone he leaves me in this agony 
 
 Of death! My limbs are trembling. Vainly I seek 
 
 My feet to raise. I'm paralysed. A load 
 
 Of hundred weights my body presses down. 
 
 Aye, pray! I'll pray! [Falls on her knees.'] 
 
 If yonder 'hind the clouds 
 A Father thrones who feelingly looks dovm 
 Upon our woes; who pity takes upon 
 Our human sorrows — ^He will now reveal 
 Himself to me. Oh! If a kindly Providence 
 
 Our fates leads lovingly How did he say? 
 
 The individual stands on chance's powder magazine; 
 Exploding — Woe, if now that powder magazine 
 Beneath my father should explode! 
 
 [Her head drops on her breast, ami she covers it with her 
 hands; deep silence; presently, triumphal music re- 
 sounds behind the scene; Marie raises her head.] 
 
 Hark! Hark!! 
 
FRANZ VON ZICKINGEN. 143 
 
 What was that signal? Victory comes from 
 
 The trumpets of our side. Could it be possible? 
 [Rises quickly and looks behind.^ 
 Balth. [Entering.] 
 
 Yoimg lady, heaven's heart is obdurate. 
 Marie. What say you? Why like lead your face sinks down 
 
 Upon your breast? Our men have signaled victory! 
 Balth. Aye, victory! The attack has been repulsed; 
 
 And bleeding is the en'my driven back 
 
 To camp. But ten times sweeter were defeat 
 
 Than victory so dearly paid for — 
 
 They deadly wounded carry back your father. 
 
 Scene IX. — Funeral march "behind the scene. While Balthasab 
 haptens to the aid of Mabie, who at his last icords is about to 
 fall to the floor, and holds her up, the door opetis and vyrapt in 
 a cloak the body of the deadly wounded Sickingen is carried 
 in upon a cot. Rudesheim, Waldeck, the Physician, knights, 
 armor-bearers and soldiers follow. The cot is placed to the right 
 of the scene. 
 
 Franz, Marie I 
 
 Marie, My father! 
 
 [She flies with outstretched arms to him, kneels down 6e- 
 side the cot and throws her arms around his necfc.J 
 Fram. Dear, sweetest child! 
 
 Forgive, if for one moment more I keep 
 
 Myself from you. I soon will yours be. 
 
 Is Rudesheim — 
 Rud. Franz! 
 
 Franz. ^ Do you think the foe 
 
 Knows how it stands with met 
 Rud. They could not that; 
 
 Not even if the knights had recognized 
 
 You. When we extricated you, you still 
 
 Sat fighting on your horse, and not until 
 
 They fled, did you of loss of blood drop from 
 
 Your horse. We carried you in our midst 
 
 While the en'my was sounding the retreat. 
 
 They hardly could so soon have learned it. 
 Franz. Good! 
 
 And where is the physician? 
 Phys, [Stepping forward.] Here I am! 
 
144 FRANZ VON ZICKINGEN. 
 
 Franz. I saw thee tremble when thou bandageth 
 
 My wounds. Now freely speak: — can I be saved? 
 
 And how much longer can 1 live? 
 Phi/8. [Hesitating.'] Sir — I — 
 
 Franz. I want the truth. Upon thy conscience now 
 
 I lay it. Many nobles' freedom hangs 
 
 Upon thy word. 
 Phys. [With an effort.] You can — 
 Franz. I order thee 
 
 To speak! 
 Phys. You can not e'en this night survive. 
 
 [J. thrill of dismay runs through the ranks of those present 
 Marie smothers her sohs in the cushion of the cct.} 
 Franz. Well, then — 
 
 Once more, and for a last time, now I shall 
 
 Outwit them. Rudesheim, the herald send 
 
 To the enemy: I will the burg surrender. 
 
 Myself a prisoner will yield, upon 
 
 Condition they allow all those within. 
 
 Myself excepted, to withdraw. But forthwith 
 
 A decision they must give. Time to think 
 
 I shall refuse. If they accept, the gates 
 
 Throw open. Long I do not wish to be 
 
 Their prisoner. [Exit Rudesheim.] 
 Marie, I now belong 
 
 To you, my child! Oh, weep not! Grieve not o'ep 
 
 My fate. We owe to life the purposes 
 
 To which the race is consecrated as 
 
 Mere artisans their task to fill. I've done 
 
 All that I could, and feel at ease and free. 
 
 As one who faithfully a great debt paid. 
 
 My mind falls back up©n my life's career. 
 
 And speaks me clean of selfish sentiment. 
 
 My name will live in memory, and bards 
 
 Will some day join me to the hosts of those 
 
 Who battled for the noblest aims of man — 
 
 And thus I gladly die — and therefore — do not grieve. 
 Marie. [Embracing him deliriously.] 
 
 Oh, father, no! You shall not go! I can 
 
 The thought not bear of leaving you! 
 Franz. My child! 
 
 My outward fortune — that I leave in ruins. 
 
MAN^ von ZICKINGEi^. U5 
 
 But never on external things your mind 
 
 Was set. As heritance my name remains 
 
 To you. I bid you carry't worthily, 
 
 As, well I know, you will. Alone one thought 
 
 Oppresses me, and makes it hard to die — 
 
 Oh, could I see him once again, and peace 
 
 Draw from my Ulrich's noble face! 
 
 [Marie sohs violently.} On it 
 
 Whatever noble deed I contemplated 
 
 In brilliant incarnation met my eyes, 
 
 And as the mirror of my soul he stood 
 
 Before me! Much I fear — a heavy blow 
 
 Will this news be to him. Console him, child! 
 
 Tell him with blessings, with rich blessings, have 
 
 I in this life's last moments thought of him. 
 
 Tell him that no reproach must he on my 
 
 Account make to himself. I thank him for 
 
 This death, the handsome closing of my life; 
 
 I thank him for the better part of my 
 
 Existence. 
 Herald. [Enters.} Sir! The en'my have accepted 
 
 The offer that you made. The burg, that still 
 
 This day shall be your own, to-morrow they 
 
 Will occupy. But close upon my steps 
 
 The Princes follow. They're approaching. 
 [Trumpets sound.} 
 Frwnz. Rise, 
 
 Marie ! Your tears dry. The . en'my may 
 
 Not see Franciscus' daughter weep. Be brave, 
 
 My child! 
 
 • 
 
 Scene X. — Second hlare of trumpets. Enter the three Princes — the 
 Palsgrave Ludwig, Philip of Hesse and the Abchbishop of 
 Treves — preceded "by the Palsgrave. 
 
 Zu4. [Precipitately.} 
 
 Is Franz himself here? 
 Balth. [Stepping briskly towards him.} 
 
 Sir, respect before 
 The dying! 
 Ziud, Dying ! 
 
 [His eyes fall upon Franz, and he staggers hack; commotion 
 among the Princes.'] 
 
U« FRANZ VON ZICKINGEN. 
 
 Never have I thought, 
 Franciscus, that my eyes would thus behold 
 You! 
 
 Franz. Not "So more did I! And would you now 
 
 Swear off, now that 'tis done, the consequence 
 Of your own acts? Repudiate the fruit 
 Of grasping treason? Go! I loathe your sight. 
 Upon the altars of your envious pride. 
 That swells your breast, you've immolated all 
 The duties gratitude commands, betrayed 
 Your house's most devoted friend. And thus 
 May on your house my fate eventually 
 Avenged be. Before a hundred years 
 Have passed away, may in the strife, that I 
 A frightful heritage behind me leave. 
 Tour scion, wretched and pursued by foes 
 Forsaken, like myself, from all his friends, 
 Flee through the land a beggar, fitly thus 
 Your house's real splendor seal, liegone! 
 — ^A Nemesis holds sway on earth; upon 
 Your heads, ye Princes, I conjure her wrath. 
 
 Phil. Your scores with Ludwig do not me concern; 
 I ever was your foe; you ever mine. 
 
 Franz. You can the voice of conscience not deceive, 
 Nor yet can you deceive th' avenging goddess. 
 Are you not Hesse's Philip, Luther's friend? 
 And yet yon Romanist you shield, and helped 
 To run me down, who Luther's strongest prop 
 Defiantly stood up? Unbridled, a 
 Corroding selfishness transported you; 
 Your own advantage weighed far more than did 
 With you the common weal. Hence may yourself 
 The penalty yet pay for your misdeed, 
 In deepest mis'ry mourn that him you felled, 
 Whom to replace you'll never have the strength. 
 
 Arch. Perhaps, also for me you have reserved 
 Some little text? 
 
 Franz. Archbishop! — Not with you my quarrel is. 
 Not words between us can decide. Besides, 
 With long and rapid strides — I feel it at 
 My heavy breathing — death is drawing nigh* 
 Yet triumph not. — Not vnth you victory 
 
FRANZ VON ZICKINGEN. 147 
 
 Remains. The seed in blood sprouts up — awaked 
 
 Among the masses is the cry of conscience. 
 
 Or soon or late — ^your dirge song it will be. 
 
 [^During the last lines Rudesfieim enters and speaks privitteljf 
 and pressingly to Balthazar and Marie,^ 
 Marie [Animatedly stepping forward.^ 
 
 Ye Princes! Almost providential does 
 
 It seem that at this time a pious monk 
 
 Has come into the burg. The favor grant 
 
 That we my father leave with him; he mighty 
 
 Perhaps, my father to confession move. 
 Franz. {With weaker voiceJ] 
 
 Confess — I will not — have myself — 
 
 [Balthazar makes covert signs to him,"] 
 Marie. Princes I 
 
 He may yet to his daughter's wishes yield. 
 
 If of your presence he's relieved. 
 Franz. I will — 
 
 Not — do you hear — 
 Lud. The maiden's prayer's reasonable. Far 
 
 From us the purpose be to stand between 
 
 Himself and God. Ye Princes, let's withdraw. 
 
 Let all with us retire who are not 
 
 Of Franz's household. 
 
 [Exeunt Princes and suites^ simultaneously and by another 
 door Balthasar.^ 
 
 Scene XI. — The former; soon after Balthasar imth Ulbich von 
 HUTTEN. Ulrich is dressed as in the third scene, hut now with 
 a monk's cloak over him, which on entering he throws hack 
 upon his shoulders.^ 
 
 XJVrich. [Behind the scenes.^ 
 
 Wounded did you say? [Enters,^ 
 
 His iron sinews mock at wounds; and this 
 
 Is not the time for wounds. 
 Franz, [Has half risen at the first sov/nd of JJlrich's voice, and 
 
 quickly calls to him.^ 
 
 Oh, Ulrich, you! 
 Ulrich. I've come, Franz; and I bring a mass of news 
 
 Most favorable! Notified by messengers. 
 
 That I sent out, of your distress, our friends 
 
 Are arming to assist you powerfully. 
 
148 FRANZ VON ZICKINGEN. 
 
 Fra/rus. ISinking hack upon his cot,'] 
 
 Too— late! 
 Ulrich [Stops hevnldered.] Too late? 
 
 [Looks inquiringly around at the circle surrounding Franz.l 
 The burg has been surrendered? 
 
 A murmur told me so, as I in haste 
 
 Came up the stairs. — But even so! What care 
 
 We for the place ! But you, have you yourself 
 
 A prisoner surrendered? 
 
 [Gazes toildly at the surrounding group, who drop their 
 heads.] So it is! 
 
 I read the confirmation in their looks. 
 
 Well, then! Still better tidings do I bring. 
 
 Make ready, Franz, to learn from me great things. 
 
 The time ha^ come. The peasant draws the sword ! 
 
 He wants you for his leader, Franz ! By him 
 
 Commissioned, stand I now before you. Say 
 
 The word — an army, hundred thousand strong, 
 
 He'll place at your command. The land will rise! 
 
 They will not long hold you a prisoner. 
 
 Allow that from this tower's height a sign 
 
 I give, and long before they to their burgs 
 
 Have taken you — before their camp they break. 
 
 The flood will swallow them; 'twill close o'er them, — 
 
 Their squadrons, both of horse and foot — as does 
 
 The raging sea close over drowning men! 
 
 [Intently looking upon Franz, Ulrich pauses for an answer.'] 
 Franz. Too late — ^you speak. Oh Ulrich, to the — dead! 
 Ulrich, [Staggers hack; looks around as if searching for confirma- 
 tion; all drop their heads in utter dejectment; Ulrich staggers 
 
 a few steps toward Franz, hut hefore reaching him drops down 
 
 vnth a piercing cry.] 
 
 Dead! 
 Franz, [Painfully and in a hroken voice.] 
 
 Ulrich — thanks — that once again I see 
 
 You — now my wish has been — fulfilled — but now — 
 
 No longer tarry — quit the burg — they might 
 
 Return — the Princes — go — ^they'd capture you — 
 
 Do not my death make hard — the effort lent 
 
 It wings — but few more minutes shall I live — 
 
 Go! Ulrich! Go! — inflict not on my mind. 
 
 My breaking eyes, the pain a prisoner 
 
FHANZ VON ZICKINGEN. 149 
 
 To see you — save yourself — for better days — 
 
 For our cause — I beg you — ^go — my voice — 
 
 I can — no more — tell him, Marie — ^move him— 
 Marie. [Approaching Ulrich.^ 
 
 Ulrich ! From you I comfort thought to draw ; 
 
 And I must strength and comfort give to you? 
 Ulrich. [Rises slowly o/nd speaks solemnly.'] 
 
 Be still, Marie! — and do not desecrate 
 
 With petty comfort such a pond'rous pain. 
 
 You lose a father — I the soul's companion. 
 
 Wen so there might be comfort — were naught else concerned! 
 
 With this man our fatherland breaks down. 
 
 In death's throes lie the hopes that we lived for. 
 
 — With his death, impotent the nobles will 
 
 Draw back afraid, and bend before the Princes, 
 
 Who masterful the realm in pieces tear; — 
 
 To Princes flunkeys they will soon descend! 
 
 — ^Deprived of his support, himself mistrusting, 
 
 The townsman will be absorbed within the web 
 
 Of his peculiar interests, and lost 
 
 Is he to our Nation's broader sense. — 
 
 — ^Alone the peasant true remains to our 
 
 Great Cause; he takes up arms — but on his own 
 
 Resources thrown, he to the slaughter-house. 
 
 The bloody, only drags his body; and 
 
 His quartered limbs the broad face of our land. 
 
 With horror struck, from end to end will cover! 
 
 On his own property the Right of Conquest 
 
 High carnival will lead, will strip from him 
 
 The last shreds that of freedom still he enjoys.-^ 
 
 A long night falls upon our heads, the sad 
 
 Fate of this country in its sable veil 
 
 Concealing. — 
 
 [Turning to Fra/nz.] 
 
 Thou diest, and thou earnest to thy ^rave 
 
 Whatever worthy of living this life made. 
 
 Me now, my errant feet to exile take; 
 
 But not for long; a few weeks more, and then— 
 
 My ashes joined will be unto your dust. 
 
 To future days I our revenge bequeathe. 
 
 [Staggers towards the door; the curtain closes."] 
 
 THE END. 
 
J 
 
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