University of Virginia Library

SCENE I.

—Camp of Rudolph. Rudolph R. H. and Gesler L. H. at a table with Dice. Officers engaged at play. Razman L. C. and Servitz L. H. corner.
Rud.
(Throwing the dice box down.)
Deuce ace! Fortune's against me still!

Ges.
Fortune's a woman, and 'tis e'er her art
To thwart her woers wishes for a while
To pay him all at once, the bliss he asks.
Tempt her once more, my lord! Here are the dice!

Rud.
Well then, for fifty pieces! [Throws.]
Eleven!

Ges.
Said I not rightly? the maid becomes less coy
[Throws.]
Eight! the stake is yours! Wilt tempt her smile again?

Rud.
Aye, will I Gesler! But fill, sirs; fill a pledge
To madam fortune! She is the soldier's mistress
And should be greeted with a brimming cup. [They fill.]

To the blind goddess “Fortune.”

Omnes.
[Drink.]
To fortune.

Raz.
This smacks of life cousin! give me the camp
With all its sweet uncertainties! The doubt
That mingles with each draught we drain, whether we
Quaff another ere we die, gives a zest
That keeps satiety a stranger to our revels.

Rud.
(Who has thrown and again won.)
Comrades! another to our lady-love!
If she wants eyes, her ears are not o'er dull;
She answers to our pledge in shining gold,
Scarce duller than our wine. Again!

Omnes.
To fortune.

Enter Hertman, L. H.
Hert.
My lord, the rebels are assembling fast,
And in great numbers. Beacon's are pil'd
Upon the hills in readiness to tell
The signal for assault. Our scouts report
'Twere easy to surprise them, ere they form;
And to secure a speedy and certain victory.

Rud.
Nay, nay, the game shall rise, ere we unstrike Unhooding the Falcon preparatory to flight.

Our falcons. 'Tis your throw Gesler.

Raz.
Our cousin has studying 'mong frog's;
He croaks so well. [Observing Rudolph.]

Ha, ha! another lucky cast!
The gold imparts its shunshine to his face.

Hert.
The beacon's on the hills are fired my lord;
Their wreathy smoke is circling to the skies
On every side.

Rud.
No matter Hertman,
So that it does not hide the sun's broad light!
he throws against me Gesler.

Hert.
(Aside.
He tempts his fate;
The game we play grows hazardous! my lord,
Each minute adds new courage to the foe!

Ges.
You win, my lord.

Raz.
How like a rusty bell
Our cousin has become, which harshly creaks
With every passing wind, but cannot raise
A sound beyond the music that the owl
Delights in for her lullaby!

Enter Soldiers, bringing in Gortz, L. H.
Soldier.
This peasant
Was found lurking about our camp, my lord.

Rud.
Look to him Hertman. Seven!

Hert.
Madman! [To Gortz.]

Well, sirrah, thou'rt a spy?

Gortz.
Marry, not I sir;
I am a loyal servant to the state,
As cousin Peter there can testify. [Points to Razman.]


Raz.
I your cousin? Hertman I know him not.

Gortz.
Oh, Peter! Peter! Art thou grown so great
That thou forget'st thy kindred? Fie Peter, fie!
It was to seek thee out, I hither came.

Raz.
(L. C.)
My lord I know him not. [To Rudolph.]
My lord he is a spy!

Rud.
(R. H.)
Hang him then. The throw's with you.

Gortz.
(Crossing to C.)
My lord! my lord! for cousin Peter's sake,
I prithee hang me not! let me go free.
I'm but a simple lad, a poor minstrel,
And no spy. I'll guide your troops my lord, by ways
You have no mind of—oh, anything but hang
[To Hertman.)
You know me, sir, I am he whose wit you question'd
Upon old Eberhard's daughter's wedding day,
She's dead, sir. 'Twas that which roused the people.
You see I'm honest: for I blink not aught
I've knowledge of good, sirs.

[Rudolph throws down the box and advances.]
Rud.
He is not worth
The very hangman's pains: a rope were wasted
On a thing like him.

Gortz.
Oh blessings on thy wit
That can discern the worth of nothingness.

Rud.
How many do the rebels number?

Gortz.
As near as may be, about a thousand men,
And those half dead with fear. They fight my lord?
Some score or two of men with me to lead them—
I mean as guide.

Rud.
We'll take the field on foot.
To arms! [Trumpets sound and Officers take up arms.]

We'll teach the slaves submission
To our will. Now knave fulfil thy office.

[Exit L. H.
Gortz.
My lord I'm ready. I'm a made man!
The gov'nors special guide. Faugh! for Peter.

[Exeunt to trumpets, R. H.