University of Virginia Library

ACT I.

SCENE I.

A Splendid Hall in the Emperor Philip's Palace at Spires. A Throne, or Chair of State, at the Back of the Stage.
Enter Egbert of Wolfenstein to Count Ardenberg, Hugo, Isidore, and other Courtiers. Nobles, Pages, &c., continue to flock in during the early part of the Scene.
Eg.
A fair good morrow, Ardenberg!

Arden.
Sir Egbert
A truant from the chase! No common cause
Brings thee from Wolfenstein to Philip's Court,
In such rare weather, too! If my poor aid—

Eg.
How may I see the Emperor?

Arden.
He gives audience,
At noon, in this fair hall.

Isi.
The time is near;
Yon flock of punctual courtiers points the hour
True as the dial.

Eg.
I'll wait him here. What news?
How goes this wasting war? Claims Brunswick still
The imperial sceptre? or have our bold veterans
Driven the usurper from the field?

Arden.
Why, since
Count Otto's crowning victory at Kanau—
Thou'st heard of Kanau's fight?

Eg.
Ay; would 't had graced
Some other leader!

Arden.
Well! since then the war
Is at a pause; a lull in the wild storm
That rends the nations; and Duke Leopold,
Vanquished and humbled, from a hated foe
May turn an honoured friend.

Hugo.
That prophecy
May be fulfilled i' th' instant. Sir, 'tis whispered
'Midst your Court pages here, that Charles of Calheim
Is in the city, sent on embassy
From Brunswick's leaguer.

Eg.
And his conqueror,
The fiery Otto? Knoweth any man
Where that proud chief abideth?

Isi.
He's in Spires.
Scarce half an hour agone, I saw him dart
Through the south gate, swift as a flash of light,
His panting train a league behind, careering
Along the crowded street with the hot speed
Which clears the ground before him at the joust
Or in the battle. The scared market folk
Fled from their stalls; prim mincing damsels drew
Under the eaves for shelter; screaming children
Ran in the way for fear.

Hugo.
And he?

Isi.
He passed
Unheeding, till three portly citizens,
(I' faith, it was a service of some peril,)
Caught by the bridle rein the mettled steed,
Enforcing thus the chafing rider's stay
To listen to their suit. Impatiently,
At first, he hearkened; but the honest kindness
Of his frank nature mastered his brief wrath,
And in discourse as eager as his pace
I left him.

Arden.
Hot his speed who comes to claim
A royal bride.

Eg.
The tidings then were true;
Count Otto weds the Princess? I could scarce
Believe the baleful story! She's the guerdon
Of Kanau's victory.

Isi.
Of a hundred victories
Is she the guerdon, of the Imperial crown,
Of love and zeal, and faith and loyalty,
Which the Imperial crown would scantly pay.

Arden.
This youthful heat becomes a youthful knight,
Topful himself of loving zeal; but we,
Elder and cooler servants of that crown,
Though not less faithful, we may view with dread
A reckless soldier, hot and turbulent,
Who, lance in rest, would sweep like some rude whirlwind
Throughout a peaceful realm, so near the throne
Of our great master. He is dangerous
To us and to the State.

Eg.
Mine errand here
Brings proof to enforce thy fears. I seek redress
From the good Emperor for injury
And insult, wrongful deed and scornful word
Of the Count Palatine.

Arden.
Speak boldly, man.
Save yon old warrior and this hasty boy,
Vowed, as they say, to his young daughter Ida,
No friend hath he in Spires. Speak boldly, Sir!
Even Philip's self—

Isi.
The Emperor!

Enter Philip, on one side, attended; meeting, on the other, Adela, Helen, and other Ladies.
Philip.
Gentle dames,
Gentle as fair! and ye assembled peers
Of the holy Roman Empire, gathered round
The throne Imperial, in war its bulwarks,
In peace its ornaments, I greet ye well,
Princes, and knights, and peers! A brighter hour
Ne'er shone upon our meeting. We expect
The ambassador of Leopold, Count Calheim,
With such submission as two princely foes
May, in all honour, proffer and receive.
Sir Egbert, thou, too, here!—our noble host
Of Wolfenstein! We lack but Otto now
To crown our feast. Thy blushes, Adela,
Reflect that wish. Egbert, how fares the chase
In the old forests of thy new demesne,
In woody Brehna? When, upon the death
Of good Sir Rudiger, thou sought'st of us
That sylvan fief, we deemed thee fixed for life
In one eternal boar-hunt, like a figure
Woven in tapestry.

Eg.
Truly, my liege,
My hounds—and none are stancher—never drove
A beast of chase from the covert with more fury
Than they and I, and all that I call mine,
Have been from Brehna driven by Count Otto.

Philip.
Thrust forth from Brehna!

Ade.
Rest thee sure, Sir Knight,
He hath good reason for this seeming wrong.
Prejudge him not, dear father!
Enter Otto.
Ah, he comes!
Father!

Philip.
Well, well! Our first word must be thanks
To our thrice-valiant chief. An Empire's thanks
Are thine, Count Otto.

Otto.
Keep that honouring word
For painful services. To lead an army
Of such bold hearts, where the very horse-boys fought
Like belted knights; to feel the rapturous thrill
Of battle, the fierce throb of victory
In the cause of faith and honour—in thy cause,
My liege, why 'tis a duty overpaid
A thousand-fold in the acting. Spare all thanks,
Save the shy glance which maiden modesty
Lets fall through her veiled lids. My Adela,
Thy prayers were with us in the combat?

Ade.
Yes;
In very truth they were.

Otto.
Now blessings rest
Upon the rosy lips that scorn to dally
With honest love! Who would not fight for thee,
Live for thee, die for thee, frank-hearted maid!

Eg.
My Lord and Emperor—

Otto.
Ha! Art thou there,
Despoiler of the orphan? When I chased thee,
I and my 'squire, and some three men-at-arms,
With thy vast hunting train, a score or two
Of lusty grooms, from Brehna, by St. Ottocar,
I little dreamt that we should meet again!

Philip.
He comes, o'er justly as we fear, to 'plain
Of that mad feat, good Otto. He craved of us,
When hawking with him late at Wolfenstein,
Our Hold of Brehna, an Imperial fief
Lapsed by the death of bold Sir Rudiger;
And we—

Otto.
My liege, it was not thine to give,
That Hold of Brehna. An Imperial fief!
'Tis held, as his or mine, from sire to son,
On personal service in the field; a knight's
Good service to the Empire. Craved of thee!
Thou might'st as well give to the first that asked
The lands of Wolfenstein or Wittelsbach,
Ay, and the County Palatine to boot,
As Brehna! An Imperial fief! 'Tis held
From heir to heir on the old feudal tenure
Of service in the field; and he knew well,
At cost of one poor question all had known,
That good Sir Rudiger, when he fell in the front
Of battle, bravely striving, left a son,
A toward boy. His weeping mother brought him
For shelter to my halls. I left him, Sire,
Lord of his father's towers; and my good arm
Shall keep him there. Forget not that, Sir Falconer!
I will maintain his rights against the world.
Nay, change the huntsman's boar-spear and his knife
For knightly weapons, and I'll match the boy,
Young Rudiger, against thee, lance to lance.
Back to thy hawks and hounds! More honest one,
More brave the other!

Philip.
If there be a son—
Yet still respect should wait a monarch's word.
Thou art too sudden, Otto.

Arden.
Why not seek
Justice by softer paths? Why seize by force
Of arms a peaceful castle? lending thus
The perilous sanction of a leader's name
To the rude soldier's rudest violence!
Have we not laws to right all wrongs, redress
All injuries, relieve—

Otto.
Count Ardenberg,
Law should sustain the weak; but when the strong
Contend against them—Ye remember, Alf,
The jolly host of the Golden Stag at Lutz?
A pleasant knave! He had the twinkling glance,
The arch half-smile that preface well a jest,
A hearty ringing voice, a chuckling laugh,
And a right merry heart. Page, squire, and knight,
All loved to waste an hour, and empt a flask
With Alf at the Golden Stag! The hostel flourished.
He bought a little vineyard, and he rode
A gallant steed. Poor Alf! his bonny grey
Cost him full dear.

Philip.
How so?

Otto.
A neighbouring lord,
Whose broad lands girdled round his humble home—
No soldier, as thou know'st, Count Ardenberg,
But a grave statesman—saw and coveted
The favourite steed. The merry host said No!—
He would have said him No had Philip sought
To buy that steed!—and then, thou know'st, not I,
Count Ardenberg, how, in the mask of law,
The reverend vizard black Oppression dons
When she would crush the feeble, Alf was chased
From his trim vineyard, his snug hostelry,
To rove a squalid beggar through our streets,
Whilst thou bestrid'st at ease the gallant grey.
I saw him but to-day. By Heaven! I'd rather
Roam the wide world that broken-hearted man,
Than fill his tyrant's seat at princely feasts
Or high Imperial councils.

Philip.
Peace awhile!
Restrain these bitter scoffs. A loftier theme
Demands our care.

Otto.
And mine. I had well-nigh
Forgot my clients. Sire, the citizens
Of the Free Towns seek, at your Grace's hands,
Redress of multitudinous wrongs: tolls, imposts,
Exactions, and abuses infinite.
(Giving papers.)
There be the scrolls. They say their substance flows
Into thy coffers, lavished upon gauds
Vain and effeminate, gems, banquets, shows,
Processions, pageants, toys that babbling woman
Or prattling childhood revels in, not man.
I warn thee, Sire, look to it. These free burghers,
As sound and generous as their Rhenish wines,
Like them are somewhat rough. They will have justice,
Ay, and they shall.

Arden.
Shall!

Otto.
Shall, Count Ardenberg.
I have pledged my knightly word; they shall have justice.

Philip.
(Seats himself on the Throne.)
Admit the Ambassador. We'll talk hereafter
Of these Imperial towns.
Enter Count Calheim, attended.
My Lord of Calheim,
A joyful welcome! Gladly have we hailed
To-day our own great captain, bearing victory
Upon his conquering helm; and gladlier still
Greet we the valiant foe who heralds peace,
Fair daughter of a rugged sire. What says
The princely Leopold?

Cal.
(Giving letters.)
May't please your Grace,
Peruse these missives?

Otto.
(At the front, to Hugo and Isidore.)
Peace!

Hugo.
And wherefore not?

Otto.
So, so! A peace!

Hugo.
Ay, good my lord. Why fought ye
Unless for such an end? Say, is not peace—

Otto.
The central point of the target, sir! The ring
Of the joust! The crown of victory! I can read
As shrewd a descant in the praise of peace,
Rough warrior though I be, as e'er a courtier
That lines your halls, so that the white-robed maid
Walk hand in hand with honour. Good Sir Hugo
The messenger who bears this olive token
Hath more of the raven than the dove.

Hugo.
Thou know'st him?

Isi.
He was amongst the followers of Leopold
Who fled before us in the Kanau fight.

Otto.
I love a brave foe next to a brave friend;
And in that fight full many an honoured crest
Vailed to our happier fortune. But you minion!
Look, how the ready lip wreathes into smiles!
The pliant neck curves into courtly bows!
Can the slave stand erect? That ever man,
Born to look upward to the starry sky,
To front the sun at noon, should crouch before
Man's work, a tinsel throne! Take heed, good Philip!
The cur that fawns can bite; yet 'tis the slaver
That hides the venom.
(To Adela, who with Helen has advanced to the front of the Stage.)
Fairest Adela!
Methinks these silken courtiers come to shame
Thy ragged knight. If any jibe thee, lady,
For thy rude bridegroom's sake, tell them his mirror
Hath been his burnished shield; the flapping tent
His 'tiring chamber. Yet i' faith he'll love thee
Better than they who come full prankt to woo.
Thanks for that honest smile.

Philip.
(Advancing to the front of the Stage.)
We'll speak at leisure
Of these thy missives, Count; they ask some pause.
Meanwhile here be two peaceful maids to hail
The Herald of fair Peace, and one bold knight
To yield thee knightly greetings. Know'st thou not
The brave Count Palatine?

Cal.
Never, till now,
Saw I that pride of chivalry.

Philip.
Good Otto,
Count Charles of Calheim greets thee.

Otto.
(To Adela.)
Didst thou ask
Of Ida, sweet one?

Philip.
Count of Wittelsbach,
The Ambassador of Brunswich proffers thee
His hand in knightly amity.

Otto.
(To Adela.)
I left her
Decking the bridal chamber.

Philip.
So! this passes
Thy accustomed licence, Otto. Even from thee,
A noble stranger—

Otto.
Sire, I know him well.
We have met before.

Philip.
Where?

Otto.
In the battle field.
Wast thou not at the fight of Kanau?

Cal.
Ay;
But saw thee not.

Otto.
Wast there, and saw not me!
Why, Sire, the blessed sun shone down upon us
In summer's fervid pride; a shining sight
Of plunging steeds, with stern, brief glimpse of knights
Smiting, and banners waving, 'mid the clang
Of arms and battle-cries, and dying groans,
And the loud trumpet peal. Say, am I wont
To hide in such a field?

Philip.
No more of this.
The victor turned a braggart!

Isi.
Even now,
With generous fervour, Otto, didst thou swear
A nobler foe ne'er graced a triumph.

Otto.
Never
Was conquest dearer won. My homely speech
Lacks words to grace their valour. Yet amongst
The many brave, and showing the more base,
'Mid that chivalrous band, a dusky stain
Upon a snow-white shield, one craven lurked.
'Twas a gay knight (Count Calheim may perchance
Know the foul bird by the bright plumage), 'twas
A coxcomb of the field, in damasked mail,
Of such a hue as is the azure stripe
Of the adder's slimy side. Blue was his scarf,
And blue his waving plume.—Faugh! change thy colours,
Good Count, I pr'ythee!—Vainly o'er the plain
I chased the recreant; vainly challenged him
To meet me front to front. The coward fled.

Philip.
What means this idle tale? My Lord of Calheim,
We must have tournaments and joustings, sports
That mimic war, to reconcile to peace
Our warlike knights. Thou art famous at the Ring.
We heard thy feats at Worms.

Cal.
Dare I inquire
How fares the lovely Ida, whose bright eyes
Inspired the victor in the tourney game?

Philip.
Ay, this we heard too. Otto, thy fair daughter
Hath won a noble wooer. Shall we plead
Your cause, Sir knight?

Cal.
So please your Grace.

Otto.
Nay, spare
Your pleadings, good my liege. She is betrothed
To a brave knight;—Fear nothing, Isidore!
She is betrothed; and were she not, she ne'er
Should mate with Charles of Calheim. Ha! dost frown?
Why so thou shouldst have knit thy brows at Kanau,
When I cried to thee, “Turn, blue knight! Turn! turn!”

Cal.
(Aside.)
Otto of Wittelsbach, my hour is near!

Otto.
Farewell, sweet Adela! When next I come,
I go not hence alone. Farewell, dear maid!
Sir Hugo! Isidore! Forget not, Sire,
The citizens of the Free Towns! They shall
(Going.)
Have justice.

Ade.
Otto, speak in gentler mood
To my dear father. He too bends his brow.
For my sake, noble Otto!

Otto.
(Approaching the Emperor.)
We are friends?
I lack the skill to sweeten truth's rough draught,
But still its power is mighty. Good my liege,
Truth is the pebble from the stripling's sling
That smites the giant to the earth; the bolt
Of the mountain shepherd's bow that cleaves the crest
Of the eagle, lord of air. Resist it not.
Match not my love with theirs. I was the firm
And loyal friend of Suabia's petty Duke:
They crouch before the Emperor. Beware
The fawning flatterers! And remember, Sire,
The burghers shall be tree!

[Exit.
Isi.
(To Hugo.)
Oh, valiant fool!
Too honest for a Court. To strike his lance
Amidst a nest of slumbering serpents, tossing
The coiling worms about, as though their fangs
Distilled no poison. Rash as brave!

Ade.
Dear father,
Thy brow is louring still.

Philip.
We would be busy.
We'll join ye in the banquet-room. Lead forth
The Princess, good Sir Isidore.
[Exeunt Adela and Helen, led by Isidore and Hugo, and followed by Ladies, Pages, &c.
My lord,
Charge not upon us the discourteous scoffs
Of the Count Palatine. Thou seest his mood.
Ourself he spares not.

Cal.
We have found him long
A dangerous foe, my liege; I hold him now
A doubly dangerous friend. Thou art the man
Whom he most injures. Why, to reign beneath
This hot and haughty warrior; to fill
The Imperial throne, his Viceroy; bear the ensigns
And symbols of authority, the crown,
The sceptre, and have none, not half the power
Of a feudal baron in his small demesne;
And to be taunted day by day with service
Done to the Duke of Suabia; cribbed and cabined
In the strait limits of another's will:—
Better be a serf at once than a crowned slave,
Whose fetters clink under his ermine. Fie!
Shake off the chains, my liege! Be free!

Arden.
The Ambassador
Says well.

Eg.
Ay, truly, Sire!

Cal.
Nobles, I bring
Proposals from the princely Leopold
To abandon his great claims; to yield the Empire;
Swear fealty to Philip; render homage
As Brunswick's Duke; so that bright Adela
Return with him to his ancestral halls
Fair Brunswick's Duchess. Full of loyal faith
In his most noble foe, to-night he comes
To woo his gentle bride.

Philip.
Nay, Calheim! nay!
My word is pledged—And yet a monarch's vow,
His first and holiest vow is to the land
O'er which he sits enthroned. Say, should we yield
To Brunswick's prayer, how may we pacify
The hot and haughty spirit whose fierce wrath
Will shake the realm from north to south? How soothe him?
Helen is promised to Bavaria's Duke,
His kinsman. We must pause on this. My lords,
We bid ye to the banquet. We'll discourse
Anon on this high matter.

[Exit, followed by Ardenberg, Egbert, &c.
Cal.
(Going off.)
Thou art mine!
Now for revenge, Count Otto!

[Exit.