The Works of Frederick Schiller Part 69

*[In the acting edition the scene closes with a different denouement. Amelia here says, "Are all unhappy who live with you, and bear the name of Amelia.

"CHARLES. Yes, all--when they think they embrace an angel, and find in their arms--a murderer. Alas, for my Amelia! She is indeed unfortunate.

"AMELIA (with an expression of deep affliction). Oh, I must weep for her.

"CHARLES (grasping her hand, and pointing to the ring). Weep for thyself.

"AMELIA (recognizing the ring). Charles! Charles! O heaven and earth!

(She sinks fainting; the scene closes.)"]

CHARLES. Unhappy, because she loves me! What if I were a murderer?

How, Lady Amelia, if your lover could reckon you up a murder for every one of your kisses? Woe to my Amelia! She is an unhappy maid.

AMELIA (gayly rising). Ha! What a happy maid am I! My only one is a reflection of Deity, and Deity is mercy and compa.s.sion! He could not bear to see a fly suffer. His soul is as far from every thought of blood as the sun is from the moon. (CHARLES suddenly turns away into a thicket, and looks wildly out into the landscape. AMELIA sings, playing the guitar.)

Oh! Hector, wilt thou go forevermore, Where fierce Achilles, on the blood-stained sh.o.r.e, Heaps countless victims o'er Patroclus' grave?

Who then thy hapless orphan boy will rear, Teach him to praise the G.o.ds and hurl the spear, When thou art swallowed up in Xanthus' wave?

CHARLES (silently tunes the guitar, and plays).

Beloved wife!--stern duty calls to arms Go, fetch my lance! and cease those vain alarms!

[He flings the guitar away, and rushes off.]

SCENE V.--A neighboring forest. Night. An old ruined castle in the centre of the scene.

The band of ROBBERS encamped on the ground.

The ROBBERS singing.

To rob, to kill, to wench, to fight, Our pastime is, and daily sport; The gibbet claims us morn and night, So let's be jolly, time is short.

A merry life we lead, and free, A life of endless fun; Our couch is 'neath the greenwood tree, Through wind and storm we gain our fee, The moon we make our sun.

Old Mercury is our patron true, And a capital chap for helping us through.

To-day we make the abbot our host, The farmer rich to-morrow; And where we shall get our next day's roast, Gives us nor care nor sorrow.

And, when with Rhenish and rare Moselle Our throats we have been oiling, Our courage burns with a fiercer swell, And we're hand and glove with the Lord of h.e.l.l, Who down in his flames is broiling.

For fathers slain the orphans' cries, The widowed mothers' moan and wail, Of brides bereaved the whimpering sighs, Like music sweet, our ears regale.

Beneath the axe to see them writhe, Bellow like calves, fall dead like flies; Such bonny sights, and sounds so blithe, With rapture fill our eats and eyes.

And when at last our death-knell rings-- The devil take that hour!

Payment in full the hangman brings, And off the stage we scour.

On the road a gla.s.s of good liquor or so, Then hip! hip! hip! and away we go!

SCHWEITZER. The night is far advanced, and the captain has not yet returned.

RAZ. And yet he promised to be back before the clock struck eight.

SCHWEITZER. Should any harm have befallen him, comrades, wouldn't we kindle fires! ay, and murder sucking babes?

SPIEGEL. (takes RAZMANN aside). A word in your ear, Razmann!

SCHWARZ (to GRIMM). Should we not send out scouts?

GRIMM. Let him alone. He no doubt has some feat in hand that will put us to shame.

SCHWEITZER. Then you are out, by old Harry! He did not part from us like one that had any masterpiece of roguery in view. Have you forgotten what he said as he marched us across the heath? "The fellow that takes so much as a turnip out of a field, if I know it, leaves his head behind him, as true as my name is Moor." We dare not plunder.

RAZ. (aside to SPIEGELBERG). What are you driving at? Speak plainer.

SPIEGEL. Hus.h.!.+ hus.h.!.+ I know not what sort of a notion you and I have of liberty, that we should toil under the yoke like bullocks, while we are making such wonderful fine speeches about independence. I like it not.

SCHWEITZER (to GRIMM). What crotchet has that swaggering b.o.o.by got in his numskull, I wonder?

RAZ. (aside to SPIEGELBERG). Is it the captain you mean?--

SPIEGEL. Hus.h.!.+ I tell you; hus.h.!.+ He has got his eavesdroppers all around us. Captain, did you say? Who made him captain over us? Has he not, in fact, usurped that t.i.tle, which by right belongs to me? What?

Is it for this that we stake our lives--that we endure all the splenetic caprices of fortunes--that we may in the end congratulate ourselves upon being the serfs of a slave? Serfs! When we might be princes? By heaven! Razmann, I could never brook it.

SCHWEITZER (overhearing him--to the others). Yes--there's a hero for you! He is just the man to do mighty execution upon frogs with stones.

The very breath of his nostrils, when he sneezes, would blow you through the eye of a needle.

SPIEGEL. (to RAZMANN). Yes--and for years I have been intent upon it.

There must be an alteration, Razmann. If you are the man I always took you for--Razmann! He is missing--he is almost given up--Razmann-- methinks his hour is come. What? does not the color so much as mount to your cheek when you hear the chimes of liberty ringing in your ears?

Have you not courage enough to take the hint?

RAZ. Ha! Satan! What bait art thou spreading for my soul?

SPIEGEL. Does it take? Good! then follow me! I have marked in what direction he slunk off. Come along! a brace of pistols seldom fail; and then--we shall be the first to strangle sucking babes. (He endeavors to draw him of.)

SCHWEITZER (enraged, draws his sword). Ha! caitiff! I have overheard you! You remind me, at the right moment, of the Bohemian forest! Were not you the coward that began to quail when the cry arose, "the enemy is coming!" I then swore by my soul--(They fight, SPIEGELBERG is killed.) To the devil with thee, a.s.sa.s.sin!

ROBBERS (in agitation). Murder! murder!--Schweitzer!--Spiegelberg!-- Part them!

SCHWEITZER (throwing the sword on the body). There let him rot! Be still, my comrades! Don't let such a trifle disturb you. The brute has always been inveterate against the captain and has not a single scar on his whole body. Once more, be still. Ha, the scoundrel! He would stab a man behind his back--skulk and murder! Is it for this that the hot sweat has poured down us in streams? that we may sneak out of the world at last like contemptible wretches? The brute! Is it for this that we have lived in fire and brimstone? To perish at last like rats?

GRIMM. But what the devil, comrade, were you after? What were you quarreling about? The captain will be furious.

SCHWEITZER. Be that on my head. And you, wretch (to RAZMANN) you were his accomplice, you! Get out of my sight! Schufterle was another of your kidney, but he has met his deserts in Switzerland--has been hanged, as the captain prophesied. (A shot is heard.)

SCHWARZ (jumping up). Hark! a pistol shot! (Another shot is heard.) Another! Hallo! the captain!

GRIMM. Patience! If it be he, there will be a third. (The third shot is heard.)