University of Virginia Library

SCENE II.

—Another Room in Joseph's House.
Enter Hans.
Hans.
I wonder when the honeymoon begins!
I'm one day married, and no glimpse on't yet!
Or shall I ever have a honeymoon?
Or is there such a thing? Until I see it,
I'll not believe it. Twenty leagues of travel
Is not a honeymoon! Strange company,
That care no doit for me, nor I for them,
Are not a honeymoon! A dinner snapp'd,
Not eaten, can't be call'd a honeymoon!
'Tis Esther's fault! No sooner were we married,
Than off she sets for Prague—nor leaves me choice,
Except to stay behind, or come with her.
Of course I do the latter, as beseems
A married man. I know my duty, but
I see no honeymoon, or chance of it!
No merry-making!—not a soul I know
To give me joy! No presents, visitings,
Feastings, and dancing, as, I know, are wont
At other people's marriages, with scores
Of little tricks and rogueries they play.
I have not had a laugh—and here I'm left,
Five hours alone! Is this a honeymoon!
And if it is, I would I ne'er had been
A married man! I'm fit to hang myself!

Esther.
[Entering.]
Husband!

Hans.
Well, wife?

Esther.
You look not happy!

Hans.
No.

Esther.
And why, dear chuck?

Hans.
Because I am not so.

Esther.
Not happy!

Hans.
No.

Esther.
Why, am not I thy wife?
Do I not treat thee kindly, lovingly?
Do I not call thee hubby, spouse, and chuck,
And every other kind of tender names?
What want'st thou to content thee, dearest love?

Hans.
I want a honeymoon.

Esther.
A honeymoon?
Why this is it! 'Tis on, my honey-love,
And almost all to come.

Hans.
'Tis on? 'Tis not!
Be this the honeymoon, I'm sick of it!
I want no more of it! Will have no more.

Esther.
O cruel—cruel Hans.

Hans.
If I had thought
To pass such honeymoon as this, I ne'er
Had married.

Esther.
Would you have me break my heart?

Hans.
I have no comfort with thee!

Esther.
Do I live
To hear thee say so!

Hans.
No delight in thee!

Esther.
No, Hans? You'll make me wish that I were dead!

Hans.
I took thee for a helpmate—thou art none!
I scarce set eyes upon thee! Thou art out,
Five hours and more, and hast not told me where.

Esther.
I went on business, Hans, that's not my own.

Hans.
Thou hast no business with such business! Fit
I mope at home, and have a wife that ought
To keep me company! I'm fairly turn'd
From honey into gall! What business was it,
Took thee away?

Esther.
I may not tell.

Hans.
You must!

Esther.
I won't!

Hans.
I'll show her, I'll be master! Now,
Or never—I'm resolved! One whisper'd me,
As from the chaplain's we came out—“Beware!—
Look to your wife, sir!”—'twas the corporal who
Had, ne'er, beguiled me—“mind! or she'll put on
What is no proper part of woman's gear!”
So I'll begin in time! What bus'ness was it
Took thee away?

Esther
[gently].
I will not tell thee, Hans!

Hans
[angrily].
You won't?

Esther
[more angrily].
I won't, Hans!—Mind what you're about!
You know me!

Hans
[angrily].
Yes!—but yet you know not me!—
I will not have it!—won't allow it!

Esther.
What?

Hans.
To have thee gadding in the honeymoon—
If honeymoon it be!

Esther.
If honeymoon
It be?

Hans.
I say it is no honeymoon!—
Where is the wine?—where are the cakes?—where are
The sports and games?—where are the friends and neighbours?
Why are we here, and not in Mariendorpt?
I thought we should go thither, when I made
A wife of thee!

Esther.
You made a wife of me?
You say it, sir?—'Twas I made you a husband!

Hans.
And if you did, I'll keep myself a husband—
I will be master!

Esther.
Hear him!

Hans.
Lord!

Esther.
O dear!

Hans.
And lord of that, I'll not be left alone,
Again!—I won't!—to fret myself from wine
To vinegar!

Esther.
Look, sir!

Hans.
Look, ma'am!

Esther.
I tell you—

Hans.
And I tell you!

Esther.
I'll make you know yourself!

Hans.
You will?—I'll run away to Mariendorpt!

Esther.
[Frightened.]
You won't, dear Hans?

Hans.
I'll be divorced—I will!

Esther.
You'll kill me, Hans!

Hans.
I'll take another wife!

Esther.
[Crying.]
O dear! O dear!
Was it for this, I let you win my heart—
O'ercome my hatred of your tyrant sex—
And, from my state of happy singlehood,
Transform me to a miserable wife?—
O Esther! Esther!—woman never knows
When she's well off, until she is undone!

Hans.
Don't cry! 'Twill spoil your eyes! My wrath is soothed,
I'm your own Hans again—your loving Hans!
I'm pacified—I'm calm'd. The storm's blown o'er;
All's smooth and still, no ripple now, nor breath.

Esther.
I'll tell thee all, Hans.

Hans.
No, you shan't!—I say
I will not hear a word—a syllable,
As I'm your husband.—Let her have her way,
So that she keeps to wearing her own clothes!

Esther.
I thank you, Hans. I see you love me still.

Hans.
Love you?—Adore you!—Idolize you!—But
'Twill never do to want our honeymoon!

[They retire.
Enter abruptly General Kleiner and Idenstein, followed by Joseph.
Gen. Kle.
What means this violence?—What men were those
Disarm'd us in the hall? The lady where,
That sent for us?

Jos.
No ill is meant you, sir,
But good. The men disarm'd you, are your guards,
Trusty for you, to death. The lady's gone.

Gen. Kle.
'Tis all thy wife's contriving, Idenstein.

Iden.
You know the value of a thousand ducats?

Jos.
I do.

Iden.
I'll give you them to set us free.

Jos.
Took I the sum, 'twould be to peril that
Were worth it to you, countless times—your lives!

Iden.
Our lives!

Jos.
They are in my care.

Gen. Kle.
Look, honest friend;
Wilt thou consent to set us free at once,
There's not a unit in two thousand ducats,
But I will count thee down.

Iden.
Thou art a Jew,
And wilt not list to reason?

Jos.
Not such reason
As that. There's not in Prague that bulky sum
Could weigh—the matter of a line—the scale
Wherein my pledge to keep you here is put—
My love—my gratitude—my principle—
Which I respect, my lord, although a Jew!

Gen. Kle.
Dost thou reflect that I'm the Governor?
That I can punish thee? That I can throw thee
Into a dungeon?—put thee to the rack?
Load thee with chains, consign thee to the galleys?—
Hang thee, good Jew?

Jos.
I know it very well.
I know thou hast the power, although thou lack'st
The will, to execute a cruel deed;
And when befits the penalty to fall,
Usest the keen sword with a melting eye.
Every one knows the Governor of Prague!

Gen. Kle.
Every one knows him for the fool he is!

Jos.
Although I am a Jew, I honour you, sir.
The hospitality I force upon you—
Except compulsion—I have taken care
Should stand acquitted of all disrespect.
That room presents refreshment—that beyond
Repose. This night alone you are my guest,
And shall, to-morrow, fully learn the cause
Why you are here; and then be free to go.
So pray you find contentment, if you can,
Where profit cannot come of discontent.

[Goes out.
As Esther and Hans are following, Idenstein beckons the former.
Iden.
Hark you, fair lady, you are beautiful.

Esther.
I know I am.

Hans.
She knows she is.

Iden.
She is;
And beauty argues goodness—and if goodness
Be not made up, 'mongst other precious things,
Of generosity, 'tis negative,
And proves of no account!

Hans.
What's negative?

Iden.
A diamond necklace clasp'd around your neck,
A score of ducats for each several drop,
And each the twentieth fraction of the set,
Would not be out of place.—Is there a window
Whence one might drop himself into the street?

Hans.
No, there is not! You put no necklace, sir,
About her neck! 'Tis mine, and not her own!
Go, Esther!

Esther.
Sir, I am not to be bribed.

Hans.
That's right—but go!

[Esther goes out.
Iden.
You are her husband, friend?

Hans.
I am.

Iden.
And well she chose you.

Hans.
So she did.

Iden.
Art thou in service?

Hans.
Yes.

Iden.
Wouldst thou not rather
Be thy own master?

Hans.
Who would not?

Iden.
Wouldst like
To be a hero?

Esther
[without].
Hans!

Hans.
I'm coming!—Yes,
[To Idenstein.
Knew I a way, was safe.

Iden.
You have a scruple
To be a soldier?

Hans.
A small scruple.

Esther
[without].
Hans!

Hans.
I'm coming.

Iden.
Would you like to have a farm?
Have your own serving-men and serving-maids?
Keep your own swine and kine? Ride your own horse?—
You'd look a man on horseback!

Hans.
So I would!

Iden.
All these are thine, wilt go an errand first.

Hans.
Where?

Esther
[without].
Hans!

Hans.
I'm coming, Esther.

Esther.
Come along!

Hans.
Where?

Esther.
[Appearing at the door.]
Hans!

Hans.
I'm coming, Esther.

Esther.
Come at once!

[Pulls him off.
Iden.
We are a pair of birds, sir, in a cage.

Gen. Kle.
Birds?—We are fools! This comes of my good-nature!
It still has been my ruin! I was made
A dunce by my mother, for my fondness of her!
What lack'd in spoiling me, aunts made up—
I was so docile, biddable to them!
My sisters brought me to destruction by
Improving my good temper, which they made
Their ready scape-goat in all kinds of scrapes;
And which their gentle friends in dimity
Employ'd, to get me into divers straits,
From which to extricate myself were only
Entanglement anew! My wife completed
My ruin! My sweet disposition made her
So fond of me, to please her I would feign
Sickness, that she might play my nurse. One thing
Alone was wanting to my quite undoing—
A child, and that, as nature would not find me,
I must provide myself with—thy Adolpha—
Who, for her own ends, keeps us prisoners here!
What's to be done?

Iden.
To bear what must be borne.
They, that command us, are a host to one.

Gen. Kle.
Let's in, then, and submit.

Iden.
I follow, sir.

Gen. Kle.
No fool, so trick'd as a good-natured man!

[They go out.