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• Götz Von Berlichingen With the Iron Hand. a Drama.
• Dramatis PersonÆ
• Act I.
• Scene I.—: An Inn At Schwarzenberg In Franconia.
• Scene II.—: A Cottage In a Thick Forest.
• Scene III.—: An Apartment In Jaxthausen, the Castle of Goetz Von Berlichingen.
• Scene IV.—: The Bishop of Bamberg’s Palace.
• Scene V.—: Jaxthausen.
• Act II.
• Scene I.—: Bamberg. a Hall.
• Scene II.—: Jaxthausen. a Hall In Goetz’s Castle.
• Scene III.—: The Bishop’s Palace At Bamberg.
• Scene IV.—: The Spessart.
• Scene V.—: The Bishop’s Palace. His Cabinet.
• Scene VI.—: Adelaide’s Apartment.
• Scene VII.—: An Ante-room.
• Scene VIII.—: The Spessart.
• Scene IX.—: Hall In the Bishop’s Palace At Bamberg.
• Scene X—: an Inn.
• Act III.
• Scene I.—: A Garden At Augsburg.
• Scene II.—: Jaxthausen.
• Scene III.—: The Camp of the Party Sent to Execute the Imperial Mandate.
• Scene IV.—: Jaxthausen.
• Scene V.—: Bamberg. Adelaide’s Chamber.
• Scene VI.—: Jaxthausen.
• Scene VII.—: A Wood On the Borders of a Morass.
• Scene VIII.—: Camp of the Imperialists.
• Scene IX.—: Jaxthausen.
• Scene X.—: The Imperial Camp.
• Scene XI.—: Mountains and a Wood.
• Scene XII.—: A Heath—on One Side an Eminence, With a Ruined Tower, On the Other the Forest.
• Scene XIII.—: The Camp.
• Scene XIV.—: Jaxthausen.
• Scene XV.—: Camp.
• Scene XVI.—: Jaxthausen.
• Scene XVII.—: The Kitchen.
• Scene XVIII.—: A Hall.
• Scene XIX.—: The Court of the Castle.
• Scene XX.: The Armory.
• Act IV.
• Scene I.—: An Inn In the City of Heilbronn
• Scene II.—: The Council-house At Heilbronn.
• Scene III.—: A Large Hall In the Council-house, Beset By Sickingen’s Troops.
• Scene IV.—: The Castle of Adelaide. Augsburg.
• Scene V.—: Jaxthausen.
• Act V.
• Scene I.—: A Village Plundered By the Insurgent Peasantry. Shrieks and Tumult.
• Scene II.—: Open Country. In the Distance Two Villages and an Abbey Are Burning.
• Scene III.—: A Hill and Prospect of the Country. In the Flat Scene a Mill. a Body of Horsemen.
• Scene IV.—: Jaxthausen.
• Scene V.—: A Village.
• Scene VI.—: The Front of a Gypsy-hut In a Wild Forest.—night.—a Fire Before the Hut, At Which Are Seated the Mother of the Gypsies and a Girl.
• Scene VII.—: Inside the Hut.
• Scene VIII.—: Adelaide’s Bedchamber.
• Scene IX.—: Street Before the Prison At Heilbronn.
• Scene X.—: An Apartment In Weislingen’s Castle.
• Scene XI.—: A Narrow Vault Dimly Illuminated. the Judges of the Secret Tribunal Discovered Seated, All Muffled In Black Cloaks.
• Scene XII.—: The Court of an Inn.
• Scene XIII.—: The Prison At Heilbronn.
• Scene the Last. —: the Prison Garden.
• Iphigenia In Tauris a Drama
• Dramatis PersonÆ.
• Act I.
• Scene I.—: A Grove Before the Temple of Diana.
• Scene II.
• Scene III.
• Scene IV.
• Act II.
• Scene I.
• Scene II.
• Act III.
• Scene I.
• Scene II.
• Scene III.
• Act IV.
• Scene I.
• Scene II.
• Scene III.
• Scene IV.
• Scene V.
• Act V.
• Scene I.
• Scene II.
• Scene III.
• Scene IV.
• Scene V.
• Scene VI.
• Torquato Tasso
• Dramatis PersonÆ.
• Act I.
• Scene I.: A Garden Adorned With Busts of the Epic Poets. to the Right a Bust of Virgil: to the Left, One of Ariosto.
• Scene II.
• Scene III.
• Scene IV.
• Act II.
• Scene I.—: A Room.
• Scene II.
• Scene III.
• Scene IV.
• Scene V.
• Act III.
• Scene I.
• Scene II.
• Scene III.
• Scene IV.
• Scene V.
• Act IV.
• Scene I.—: A Chamber.
• Scene II.
• Scene III.
• Scene IV.
• Scene V.
• Act V.
• Scene I.—: A Garden.
• Scene II.
• Scene III.
• Scene IV.
• Scene V.
• Clavigo
• Dramatis PersonÆ.
• Act I.
• Scene I.—: Clavigo’s Dwelling.
• Scene II.—: Guilbert’s Dwelling.
• Act II.
• Scene I.—: Clavigo’s House.
• Act III.
• Scene I.—: Guilbert’s Abode.
• Act IV.
• Scene I.—: Clavigo’s Abode. Carlos, Alone.
• Scene II.—: Guilbert’s Abode.
• Act V.
• Scene I.—: The Street Before the House of Guilbert. Night.
• Scene II.
• Scene III.
• Scene IV.
• Scene V.
• Scene VI.
• Stella. a Tragedy.
• Dramatis PersonÆ.
• Act I.
• Act II.
• Act III.
• Act IV.
• Act V.
• The Brother and Sister
• Dramatis PersonÆ.
• A Tale.
• The Good Women.
• Reynard the Fox.
• Chapter I.: The Accusation.
• Chapter II.: The First Summons.
• Chapter III.: The Second Summons.
• Chapter IV.: The Trial.
• Chapter V.: The Pardon.
• Chapter VI.: The Relapse.
• Chapter VII.: The Outlawry.
• Chapter VIII.: The Journey.
• Chapter IX.: The Advocacy.
• Chapter X.: The Second Pardon.
• Chapter XI.: The Defiance.
• Chapter XII.: The Battle.

SCENE III.—

An Apartment in Jaxthausen, the Castle of Goetz von Berlichingen.

Elizabeth, MariaandCharlesdiscovered.

Charles.

Pray now, dear aunt, tell me again that story about the good child; it is so pretty—

Maria.

Do you tell it to me, little rogue! that I may see if you have paid attention.

Charles.

Wait then till I think.—“There was once upon—” Yes—“There was once upon a time a child, and his mother was sick; so the child went—”

Maria.

No, no!—“Then his mother said, ‘Dear child—’ ”

Charles.

“ ‘I am sick—’ ”

Maria.

“ ‘And cannot go out.’ ”

Charles.

“And gave him money and said, ‘Go and buy yourself a breakfast.’ There came a poor man—”

Maria.

“The child went. There met him an old man who was—.” Now, Charles!

Charles.

“Who was—old—”

Maria.

Of course. “Who was hardly able to walk, and said, ‘Dear child—’ ”

Charles.

“ ‘Give me something; I have eaten not a morsel yesterday or to-day.’ Then the child gave him the money—”

Maria.

“That should have bought his breakfast.”

Charles.

“Then the old man said—”

Maria.

“Then the old man took the child by the hand—”

Charles.

“By the hand, and said—and became a fine beautiful saint—and said—‘Dear child,—’ ”

Maria.

“ ‘The holy Virgin rewards thee for thy benevolence through me: whatever sick person thou touchest—’ ”

Charles.

“ ‘With thy hand—.’ ” It was the right hand, I think.

Maria.

Yes.

Charles.

“ ‘He will get well directly.’ ”

Maria.

“Then the child ran home, and could not speak for joy—”

Charles.

“And fell upon his mother’s neck and wept for joy.”

Maria.

“Then the mother cried. ‘What is this?’ and became—” Now, Charles.

Charles.

“Became—became—”

Maria.

You do not attend—“and became well. And the child cured kings and emperors, and became so rich that he built a great abbey.”

Elizabeth.

I cannot understand why my husband stays. He has been away five days and nights, and he hoped to have finished his adventure so quickly.

Maria.

I have long felt uneasy. Were I married to a man who continually incurred such danger, I should die within the first year.

Elizabeth.

I thank God that he has made me of firmer stuff!

Charles.

But must my father ride out if it is so dangerous?

Maria.

Such is his good pleasure.

Elizabeth.

He must indeed, dear Charles!

Charles.

Why?

Elizabeth.

Do you not remember the last time he rode out, when he brought you those nice things?

Charles.

Will he bring me anything now?

Elizabeth.

I believe so. Listen: there was a tailor at Stutgard who was a capital archer, and had gained the prize at Cologne.

Charles.

Was it much?

Elizabeth.

A hundred dollars; and afterwards they would not pay him.

Maria.

That was naughty, eh, Charles?

Charles.

Naughty people!

Elizabeth.

The tailor came to your father and begged him to get his money for him; then your father rode out and intercepted a party of merchants from Cologne, and kept them prisoners till they paid the money. Would you not have ridden out too?

Charles.

No; for one must go through a dark thick wood, where there are gypsies and witches—

Elizabeth.

You’re a fine fellow; afraid of witches!

Maria.

Charles, it is far better to live at home in your castle like a quiet Christian knight. One may find opportunities enough of doing good on one’s own lands. Even the worthiest knights do more harm than good in their excursions.

Elizabeth.

Sister, you know not what you are saying.—God grant our boy may become braver as he grows up, and not take after that Weislingen, who has dealt so faithlessly with my husband.

Maria.

We will not judge, Elizabeth.—My brother is highly incensed, and so are you; I am only a spectator in the matter, and can be more impartial.

Elizabeth.

Weislingen cannot be defended.

Maria.

What I have heard of him has interested me.—Even your husband relates many instances of his former goodness and affection.—How happy was their youth when they were both pages of honor to the margrave!

Elizabeth.

That may be. But only tell me, how can a man ever have been good who lays snares for his best and truest friend? who has sold his services to the enemies of my husband; and who strives, by invidious misrepresentations, to poison the mind of our noble emperor, who is so gracious to us?

[A horn is heard.]

Charles.

Papa! papa! the warder sounds his horn! Joy! joy! Open the gate!

Elizabeth.

There he comes with booty!

EnterPeter.

Peter.

We have fought—we have conquered!—God save you, noble ladies!

Elizabeth.

Have you captured Weislingen?

Peter.

Himself, and three followers.

Elizabeth.

How came you to stay so long?

Peter.

We lay in wait for him between Nuremberg and Bamberg, but he would not come, though we knew he had set out. At length we heard of his whereabouts; he had struck off sideways, and was staying quietly with the earl at Schwarzenberg.

Elizabeth.

They would also fain make the earl my husband’s enemy.

Peter.

I immediately told my master.—Up and away we rode into the forest of Haslach. And it was curious that while we were riding along that night, a shepherd was watching, and five wolves fell upon the flock and attacked them stoutly. Then my master laughed, and said, “Good luck to us all, dear comrades, both to you and us!” And the good omen overjoyed us. Just then Weislingen came riding towards us with four attendants—

Maria.

How my heart beats!

Peter.

My comrade and I, as our master had commanded, threw ourselves suddenly on him, and clung to him as if we had grown together, so that he could not move, while my master and Hans fell upon the servants and overpowered them. They were all taken, except one who escaped.

Elizabeth.

I am curious to see him. Will he arrive soon?

Peter.

They are riding through the valley, and will be here in a quarter of an hour.

Maria.

He is no doubt cast down and dejected?

Peter.

He looks gloomy enough.

Maria.

It will grieve me to see his distress!

Elizabeth.

Oh, I must get food ready. You are no doubt all hungry?

Peter.

Hungry enough, in truth.

Elizabeth.

(ToMaria.) Take the cellar keys and bring the best wine. They have deserved it.

[ExitElizabeth.

Charles.

I’ll go too, aunt.

Maria.

Come then, boy.

[ExeuntCharlesandMaria.

Peter.

He’ll never be his father, else he would have gone with me to the stable.

EnterGoetz. Weislingen, Hansand otherTroopers.

Goetz.

(Laying his helmet and sword on a table.) Unbuckle my armor, and give me my doublet. Ease will refresh me. Brother Martin, thou saidst truly. You have kept us long on the watch, Weislingen!

[Weislingenpaces up and down in silence.

Goetz.

Be of good cheer! Come, unarm yourself! Where are your clothes? I hope nothing has been lost. (To the attendants.) Go, ask his servants; open the baggage and see that nothing is missing. Or I can lend you some of mine.

Weislingen.

Let me remain as I am—it is all one.

Goetz.

I can give you a handsome doublet, but it is only of linen; it has grown too tight for me. I wore it at the marriage of my Lord the Palsgrave, when your bishop was so incensed at me. About a fortnight before I had sunk two of his vessels upon the Main.—I was going upstairs in the Stag at Heidelberg, with Franz von Sickingen. Before you get quite to the top there is a landing-place with iron rails—there stood the bishop, and gave his hand to Franz as he passed, and to me also as I followed close behind him. I laughed in my sleeve, and went to the Landgrave of Hanau, who was always a kind friend to me, and said, “The bishop has given me his hand, but I’ll wager he did not know me.” The bishop heard me, for I was speaking loud on purpose. He came to us angrily, and said, “True, I gave thee my hand, because I knew thee not.” To which I answered, “I know that, my lord; and so here you have your shake of the hand back again!” The manikin grew red as a turkey-cock with spite, and he ran up into the room and complained to the Palsgrave Lewis and the Prince of Nassau. We have laughed over the scene again and again.

Weislingen.

I wish you would leave me to myself.

Goetz.

Why so? I entreat you be of good cheer. You are my prisoner, but I will not abuse my power.

Weislingen.

I have no fear of that. That is your duty as a knight.

Goetz.

And you know how sacred it is to me.

Weislingen.

I am your prisoner—the rest matters not.

Goetz.

You should not say so. Had you been taken by a prince, fettered and cast into a dungeon, your gaoler directed to drive sleep from your eyes—

EnterServantswith clothes.Weislingenunarms himself. EnterCharles.

Charles.

Good-morrow, papa!

Goetz.

(Kisses him.) Good-morrow, boy! How have you been this long time?

Charles.

Very well, father! Aunt says I am a good boy.

Goetz.

Does she?

Charles.

Have you brought me anything?

Goetz.

Nothing this time.

Charles.

I have learned a great deal.

Goetz.

Ay!

Charles.

Shall I tell you about the good child?

Goetz.

After dinner.

Charles.

I know something else, too.

Goetz.

What may that be?

Charles.

“Jaxthausen is a village and castle on the Jaxt, which has appertained in property and heritage for two hundred years to the Lords of Berlichingen—”

Goetz.

Do you know the Lord of Berlichingen? (Charlesstares at him. Aside.) His learning is so abstruse that he does not know his own father. To whom does Jaxthausen belong?

Charles.

“Jaxthausen is a village and castle upon the Jaxt—”

Goetz.

I did not ask that. I knew every path, pass and ford about the place before ever I knew the name of the village, castle or river.—Is your mother in the kitchen?

Charles.

Yes, papa! They are cooking a lamb and turnips.

Goetz.

Do you know that too. Jack Turnspit?

Charles.

And my aunt is roasting an apple for me to eat after dinner—

Goetz.

Can’t you eat it raw?

Charles.

It tastes better roasted.

Goetz.

You must have a titbit, must you?—Weislingen, I will be with you immediately. I must go and see my wife.—Come, Charles!

Charles.

Who is that man?

Goetz.

Bid him welcome. Tell him to be merry.

Charles.

There’s my hand for you, man! Be merry—for the dinner will soon be ready.

Weislingen.

(Takes up the child and kisses him.) Happy boy! that knowest no worse evil than the delay of dinner. May you live to have much joy in your son, Berlichingen!

Goetz.

Where there is most light the shades are deepest. Yet I should thank God for it. We’ll see what they are about.

[Exit withCharlesandServants.

Weislingen.

Oh, that I could but wake and find this all a dream! In the power of Berlichingen!—from whom I had scarcely detached myself—whose remembrance I shunned like fire—whom I hoped to overpower! and he still the old true-hearted Goetz! Gracious God! what will be the end of it? O Adelbert! Led back to the very hall where we played as children; when thou didst love and prize him as thy soul! Who can know him and hate him? Alas! I am so thoroughly insignificant here. Happy days! ye are gone. There, in his chair by the chimney, sat old Berlichingen, while we played around him, and loved each other like cherubs! How anxious the bishop and all my friends will be! Well, the whole country will sympathize with my misfortune. But what avails it? Can they give me the peace after which I strive?

Re-enterGoetzwith wine and goblets.

Goetz.

We’ll take a glass while dinner is preparing. Come, sit down—think yourself at home! Fancy you’ve come once more to see Goetz. It is long since we have sat and emptied a flagon together. (Lifts his glass.) Come: a light heart!

Weislingen.

Those times are gone by.

Goetz.

God forbid! To be sure, we shall hardly pass more pleasant days than those we spent together at the margrave’s court, when we were inseparable night and day. I think with pleasure on my youth. Do you remember the scuffle I had with the Polander, whose pomaded and frizzled hair I chanced to rub with my sleeve?

Weislingen.

It was at table; and he struck at you with a knife.

Goetz.

I gave it him, however; and you had a quarrel upon that account with his comrades. We always stuck together like brave fellows, and were the admiration of every one. (Raises his glass.) Castor and Pollux! It used to rejoice my heart when the margrave so called us.

Weislingen.

The Bishop of Wurtzburg first gave us the name.

Goetz.

That bishop was a learned man, and withal so kind and gentle. I shall remember as long as I live how he used to caress us, praise our friendship, and say, “Happy is the man who is his friend’s twin-brother.”

Weislingen.

No more of that.

Goetz.

Why not? I know nothing more delightful after fatigue than to talk over old times. Indeed, when I recall to mind how we bore good and bad fortune together, and were all in all to each other, and how I thought this was to continue forever. Was not that my sole comfort when my hand was shot away at Landshut, and you nursed and tended me like a brother? I hoped Adelbert would in future be my right hand. And now—

Weislingen.

Alas!

Goetz.

Hadst thou but listened to me when I begged thee to go with me to Brabant, all would have been well. But then that unhappy turn for court-dangling seized thee, and thy coquetting and flirting with the women. I always told thee, when thou would’st mix with these lounging, vain court sycophants, and entertain them with gossip about unlucky matches and seduced girls, scandal about absent friends, and all such trash as they take interest in—I always said, Adelbert, thou wilt become a rogue!

Weislingen.

To what purpose is all this?

Goetz.

Would to God I could forget it, or that it were otherwise! Art thou not free and nobly born as any in Germany; independent, subject to the emperor alone; and dost thou crouch among vassals? What is the bishop to thee? Granted, he is thy neighbor, and can do thee a shrewd turn; hast thou not power and friends to requite him in kind? Art thou ignorant of the dignity of a free knight, who depends only upon God, the emperor, and himself, that thou degradest thyself to be the courtier of a stubborn, jealous priest?

Weislingen.

Let me speak!

Goetz.

What hast thou to say?

Weislingen.

You look upon the princes as the wolf upon the shepherd. And can you blame them for defending their territories and property? Are they a moment secure from the unruly knights, who plunder their vassals even upon the highroads, and sack their castles and villages? Upon the other hand, our country’s enemies threaten to overrun the lands of our beloved emperor, yet, while he needs the princes’ assistance, they can scarce defend their own lives; is it not our good genius which at this moment leads them to devise means of procuring peace for Germany, of securing the administration of justice, and giving to great and small the blessings of quiet? And can you blame us, Berlichingen, for securing the protection of the powerful princes, our neighbors, whose assistance is at hand, rather than relying on that of the emperor, who is so far removed from us, and is hardly able to protect himself?

Goetz.

Yes, yes, I understand you. Weislingen, were the princes as you paint them, we should all have what we want. Peace and quiet! No doubt! Every bird of prey naturally likes to eat its plunder undisturbed. The general weal! If they would but take the trouble to study that. And they trifle with the emperor shamefully. Every day some new tinker or other comes to give his opinion. The emperor means well, and would gladly put things to rights; but because he happens to understand a thing readily, and by a single word can put a thousand hands into motion, he thinks everything will be as speedily and as easily accomplished. Ordinance upon ordinance is promulgated, each nullifying the last, while the princes obey only those which serve their own interest, and prate of peace and security of the empire, while they are treading under foot their weaker neighbors. I will be sworn, many a one thanks God in his heart that the Turk keeps the emperor fully employed!

Weislingen.

You view things your own way.

Goetz.

So does every one. The question is, which is the right way to view them? And your plans at least shun the day.

Weislingen.

You may say what you will; I am your prisoner.

Goetz.

If your conscience is free, so are you. How was it with the general tranquillity? I remember going as a boy of sixteen with the margrave to the Imperial Diet. What harangues the princes made! And the clergy were the most vociferous of all. Your bishop thundered into the emperor’s ears his regard for justice, till one thought it had become part and parcel of his being. And now he has imprisoned a page of mine, at a time when our quarrels were all accommodated, and I had buried them in oblivion. Is not all settled between us? What does he want with the boy?

Weislingen.

It was done without his knowledge.

Goetz.

Then why does he not release him?

Weislingen.

He did not conduct himself as he ought.

Goetz.

Not conduct himself as he ought? By my honor he performed his duty, as surely as he has been imprisoned both with your knowledge and the bishop’s! Do you think I am come into the world this very day, that I cannot see what all this means?

Weislingen.

You are suspicious, and do us wrong.

Goetz.

Weislingen, shall I deal openly with you? Inconsiderable as I am, I am a thorn in your side, and Selbitz and Sickingen are no less so, because we are firmly resolved to die sooner than to thank any one but God for the air we breathe, or pay homage to any one but the emperor. This is why they worry me in every possible way, blacken my character with the emperor, and among my friends and neighbors, and spy about for advantage over me. They would have me out of the way at any price; that was your reason for imprisoning the page whom you knew I had despatched for intelligence: and now you say he did not conduct himself as he should do, because he would not betray my secrets. And you, Weislingen, are their tool!

Weislingen.

Berlichingen!

Goetz.

Not a word more. I am an enemy to long explanations; they deceive either the maker or the hearer, and generally both.

EnterCharles.

Charles.

Dinner is ready, father!

Goetz.

Good news! Come, I hope the company of my women folk will amuse you. You always liked the girls. Ay, ay, they can tell many pretty stories about you. Come!

[Exeunt.