University of Virginia Library

SCENE IV.

Hall. The table covered with fruits, and wine-flasks. Count, Countess, Otho, Netherstein, Rachel, and Catherine seated. Servants of the house and of the Countess attending.
RACHEL
to servants.
The service ends, sirs, now that grace is said.
To help our meat we have but fruits as scanty:
These we may reach ourselves. Set other cups,
And flasks of sweeter wine, before ye go,
Then leave us, if my lady need you not.

COUNTESS.
Stay yet—let Gregory wait.

COUNT.
We shall be shamed
When Christmas brings our hosts to Schwannenstadt,
Remembering how we banquet here. It is
A feast for Charlemagne's peers!

NETHERSTEIN.
Ay, marry, is it;
And all the emperors since, if each had been
No larger stomached than my lord and lady.

COUNT.
We hope for better health, and lighter crosses.
Bear lamps up stairs before the Countess, Ralph.
Sleep is our best and safest nourisher.
We must be roused at day-break—so farewell!
Look out for pleasant weather, boy. The moon
[To Otho.
Is high by this time. Half-past nine o'clock!
She rose at half-past eight.

COUNTESS.
Stop first a little;
And tell your kinsman what you say he is.

COUNT.
What does he say I am?

COUNTESS.
Coward, traitor, murderer!

COUNT.
A murderer! (They all rise.)


COUNTESS.
So he says—a double one.

COUNT.
Whom does he say I murdered?

COUNTESS.
Both my cousins:
The first by fraud, long since, and many hands:
The other by thine own—behind his back—
So late as yesterday.

COUNT.
Did Otho say it?

OTHO.
I did say so, and say it again, my lord.

COUNT.
Traitor and liar!

COUNTESS.
Sit down—let both sit still!
The time is not for brawls—nor shall we stun
So many ears by braggart cries and threats.
His words are plain enough—canst answer them?
He calls thee murderer; tells us who is slain;
Time, place, and motive to the act.

COUNT.
Your cousins?

COUNTESS.
The youngest first, through me—lied out of life—
Though slain in battle murdered by his friend!
The elder yesterday.

OTHO.
He told me so—
Cowardly murdered!

COUNT.
Some one lend a sword.
And let him say so then.

OTHO.
My lord's is pledged—
We must release it from this cousin's back!
Come with me, miller—I will find and bring it.

(Netherstein leaves his seat, and places himself between the Count and Otho.)
NETHERSTEIN.
This must be answered if the man is dead.
Behind his back!

COUNT.
I answer to my prince.
Arrest the traitor, Gregory Drinkinton!
Menno, lay hold!

COUNTESS.
These are my servants, sir.
Count Altheim has none here. They shall do so,
And seize the traitor, be he which he may.

COUNT.
How! Gertrude!

COUNTESS.
Ay, the same—who will live yet
Where honour keeps the roof above her head;
Or pull its pillars down to cover shame,
And die with all beneath it. Gertrude is
No heiress of the murdered, nor the wife
Of him who stabs men's backs. Why call for weapons?
You can disprove his words, if false. He says
The Baron's body lies within a a mile.

OTHO.
I do, and that Count Altheim's sword is in it:
The Baron's in its sheath. Send whom ye will:
I have been taught to guide them straight enough.
One is a traitor.

COUNTESS.
If but one is such—
No more than one—the Count is innocent.
This kinsman, picked from out some lazar-house,
Says that he loves his wife! Traitor confessed,
A liar it may be.

Enter Tycho, followed by the Ferryman, whose face is shaded with a plumed cap, and muffled in a cloak. He carries a naked sword in his hand, and places himself in the seat left by Netherstein.
TYCHO.
Melchior, stand aside.
A lord they left behind is come to-night:
The lord of Rabensberg!

COUNTESS.
My cousin? alive!

OTHO.
The lord of Rabensberg!

FERRYMAN,
discovering himself.
I am such now:
Your younger cousin, John of Rabensberg,
Succeeds his brother in the barony—
I was the Ferryman.

RACHEL.
Look! here again!
Out, dog's-face! get thee gone, thou morris fool!
Wouldst bring thy rogueries here, 'twixt life and death?
With sword in hand, and plume upon thine head?
Out with him, Melchior! drag him out of doors!

FERRYMAN.
Be patient, mother-in-law! There be some here—
The Count and Countess—will remember me.
She, when she speaks again, may tell thee so.
My cap and cloak were left me by my brother:
The sword beside me is inherited:
This other was the Count's.

TYCHO.
Done bravely, faith!
Rarely! as breath is life! The Count and Countess
Do look upon him for a lord indeed!
I have seen many a show come short of this.
He passes Punch a league and all to windward!
The moon herself is dazzled by him! hark!

FERRYMAN.
I claim scarce half of what is mine, Count Altheim:
Only my name and honour. That is lost
Which outweighs both. But on my brother's behalf—
Whose blood it was which cried so loud last night—
I ask for justice too. Is this sword yours?

[Gives it to the Count.
OTHO.
He saves my journey—was it through the back?

COUNT.
No matter, if it reach the heart, which passage—
This time it goes the other way.

[He stabs Otho, and exit.
NETHERSTEIN.
Hold! hold!

FERRYMAN.
His kinsman, his confederate!

NETHERSTEIN.
Help me, Gregory!
The sword went through him!

FERRYMAN.
Melchior, bring him back—
Take the sword from him, Tycho!

NETHERSTEIN.
Here are weapons—
Run, Bernard—get behind—run warily!

FERRYMAN.
Murder for pastime!

NETHERSTEIN.
Help us to the couch.

RACHEL.
The chamber here within, sirs—hold his head!

NETHERSTEIN.
His very breath is bloody—lift him gently.

[Exeunt.
(The Countess and Ferryman remain.)
FERRYMAN.
Gertrude, I bring thee misery yet again!
I said those lips would curse me. What I do
Is ruin to thee, but it must be done.
I have no choice. Awake, and look upon me!
I was content to die from all remembrance—
Trusting my honor with forgetfulness—
Rather than live and grieve thee. Both deceived,
Let both forgive. I could not hide this murder!

COUNTESS
rises, and comes forward.
And wherefore shouldst thou hide it? what afflicts thee?
Thou didst not come the first to bring down ruin—
'Twas I proclaimed the murder and the murderer.
Thank Heaven for that! the guilty fall together,
And by each other—I the chief of them:—
The cruel, the credulous!
(Enter Catherine.)
Come hither, child:
Why dost thou tremble at my kinsman thus?

CATHERINE.
I dare not stay within to see him die!

COUNTESS.
I neither fear nor wonder—scarce discern,
Amongst so many changes, life from death.
The one we looked for yesterday is lost—
The lost these seven years—he who fell by daylight—
The registered as slain—the praised and mourned for—
Is with us here!

FERRYMAN.
This should teach hope to both.

COUNTESS.
I hoped—no matter now what else I did!
Proud hopes are seldom prosperous—never long.
There is a sister left me—gentler, wiser—
Though falsely, let me think she is my gift—
That so, at last, I make a large amends—
Let me bestow her—her portion equals thine—
(She gives him the hand of Catherine.)
The half of Rabensberg.

FERRYMAN,
Make her a gift—
A happy gift—and not a legacy.
Be sister to us both, for wanting this
The rest were bare as winter. See, she kneels!
(Catherine kneels.)
Gertrude has power to make her cousin happy—
But never if she part from him again.
Behold, it is a promise! lead her hence.
I have her hand and thine.— (Exeunt Countess and Catherine.)


(Enter Netherstein and Rachel.)
NETHERSTEIN.
The youth is dead!
This shall be taxed and answered. Why didst lend
The sword to such a butchery? Lord of what?

RACHEL.
Who else is killed, didst say? My lady's brother?

FERRYMAN.
My brother and her cousin.

RACHEL.
Thou her brother?
Why shouldst thou kill her cousin, knave?—Who art thou?

FERRYMAN.
The Baron Rabensberg.

NETHERSTEIN.
Colen a Baron!

(Enter Tycho and Servants.)
TYCHO.
Thou shouldst have cast thy coxcomb off and helped.
The Count is gone.

FERRYMAN.
Which way?

TYCHO.
To court, or that way—
Eastward, Vienna-ward—down stream at bottom,
And haply bottom upwards.

RACHEL.
Hush! art mad?

TYCHO.
Why not? the rest are so—Count, Countess, Colen.
Why lift thy brows, in such a sort, above thee—
And magnify thyself against me thus?

FERRYMAN.
He is not drowned?

TYCHO.
Then try thy luck again—
See what canst do by diving?

RACHEL.
Sirrah, hush!

TYCHO.
Speak! speak!—hush! hush!—I will row leisurely.
My lord was hard to catch, and ill to hold—
His sword swung round about, like Godfrey's windmill.
Tauss fain had got behind—he judged so much,
Backed water, jumped aboard the ferry-boat—
And cut the tow-rope short to set her free—
At first, the current drifts him close in-shore
An oar's length from us as we run down stream.
And lo, that heavy Baron, by the helm,
Sits stark and still, the foresail over him.
By Haman's necklace, how this hallooed to him!

TAUSS.
And prayed to him!

TYCHO.
And swore at him!

TAUSS.
And shook him!

TYCHO.
And plucked the foresail from about his head!—
The moon shone brightly on them:—we might see
The dead man's eye-balls staring face to face!
Quick ears had heard the live one shrieking here!
He jumped—Tauss says he tumbled overboard—

TAUSS.
We ran beyond to mark his rising-place—
The wherry got between us—Melchior saw him,
Went bravely in, at once—but could not find him.
His clothes were heavy.

TYCHO.
If he rose again,
It was beneath the boat.—Some think he did it—
He slew them both—the youth and Baron too!
And partly I believe he did.

NETHERSTEIN.
Caps off!
Colen himself is one!

TYCHO.
A what?

NETHERSTEIN.
A lord.

TYCHO.
So am I too—lend me the cloak, cock robin!
Now that the play is over, strip thy bravery.

RACHEL.
Down on thy knees!

FERRYMAN.
His place is next my back
By land, as well as water, mother-in-law—
But let us two make fresher contracts now—
Henceforth, as I am dutiful, be kind.
He must live longer than I yet have done—
Bear more, and travel farther—who shall find
A sounder-hearted man than Netherstein—
We will be merry yet, and that together.

TYCHO.
Who says so?—What art whispering, Bernard Brann?
Do Baron-finders turn themselves to Barons
As tadpoles change to frogs—by staring at them?
A Baron's son and brother!—not a soldier?

FERRYMAN.
I was a soldier truly, as I said,
Where all our buffets did not fall in front.
One stopped and stunned me, ere aware of it.
Ten times life parted—then came back again.
My wits—which flew like bees whose hive is rifled,
Afraid to light and enter—stooped at last.
The surf of battle had run farther on—
It swamped, and left me stranded. Round about
Lay wrecks so broken that the shape of men
Was almost lost in them. With one beside me,
I changed mine arms and what might hurt by honouring—
He got the better burial. Fields like these
Have careful gleaners after death has reaped them,
Who stoop to pick the weightiest straws the first.
Of such I was aware in time—crept from them,
And when night came, found help.

NETHERSTEIN.
But grieved thy friends,
And lost thine heritage?

FERRYMAN.
I had none such.
As far as honour went, the war was done.
In this my life seemed luckier, ay, and longer
Than his may chance to do who counts fourscore—
I lived to hear it praised, so ended it:
And, free to please myself, began another—
Content with harmless mirth and peaceful bread.