[A Prison in one of the Towers of the Castle. Frederick Alone.]
Frederick
How a few moments destroy the happiness of man! When I, this morning, set
out from my inn, and saw the sun rise, I sung with joy.—Flattered with
the hope of seeing my mother, I formed a scheme how I would with joy surprize
her. But, farewell all pleasant prospects—I return to my native country,
and the first object I behold, is my dying parent; my first lodging, a prison;
and my next walk will perhaps be oh, merciful providence! have I deserved
all this?
[Enter Amelia with a small basket covered with a napkin.—She speaks to some one without.]
Amelia
Wait there, Francis, I shall soon be back.
Frederick [hearing
the door open, and turning round.]
Who's there?
Amelia
You must be both hungry and thirsty, I fear.
Frederick
Oh, no! neither.
Amelia
Here is a bottle of wine, and something to eat. [Places the
basket on the table.] I have often heard my father say, that
wine is quite a cordial to the heart.
Frederick
A thousand thanks, dear stranger. Ah! could I prevail on you to
have it sent to my mother, who is upon her death-bed, under the
roof of an honest peasant, called Hubert! Take it hence, my kind
benefactress, and save my mother.
Amelia
But first assure me that you did not intend to murder my father.
Frederick
Your father! heaven forbid.—I meant but to preserve her life, who gave
me mine.—Murder your father. No, no, I hope not.
Amelia
And I thought not.—Or, if you had murdered any one, you had better have
killed the Count; nobody would have missed him.
Frederick
Who, may I enquire, were those gentlemen whom I hoped to frighten
into charity?
Amelia
Ay, if you only intended to frighten them, the Count was the very person for
your purpose. But you caught hold of the other gentleman.—And could you
hope to intimidate Baron Wildenhaim?
Frederick
Baron Wildenhaim!—Almighty powers!
Amelia
What 's the matter?
Frederick
The man to whose breast I held my sword [trembling.]
Amelia
Was Baron Wildenhaim—the owner of this estate—my father!
Frederick [with
the greatest emotion.]
My father!
Amelia
Good heaven, how he looks! I am afraid he's mad. Here! Francis,
Francis. [Exit, calling.]
Frederick [all
agitation.]
My father! Eternal judge! thou do'st not slumber! The man, against whom I
drew my sword this day was my father! One moment longer, and provoked, I might
have been the murderer of my father! my hair stands on end! my eyes are clouded!
I cannot see any thing before me. [Sinks down on a chair.] If Providence
had ordained that I should give the fatal blow, who, would have been most
in fault?—I dare not pronounce—[after a pause] That benevolent
young female who left me just now, is, then, my sister—and I suppose
that fop, who accompanied my father—[Enter Mr. Anhalt] Welcome,
Sir! By your dress you are of the church, and consequently a messenger of
comfort. You are most welcome, Sir.
Anhalt
I wish to bring comfort and avoid upbraidings: for your own
conscience will reproach you more than the voice of a preacher.
From the sensibility of your countenance, together with a
language, and address superior to the vulgar, it appears, young
man, you have had an education, which should have preserved you
from a state like this.
Frederick
My education I owe to my mother. Filial love, in return, has plunged me into
the state you see. A civil magistrate will condemn according to the law—A
priest, in judgment, is not to consider the act itself, but the impulse which
led to the act.
Anhalt
I shall judge with all the lenity my religion dictates: and you are the prisoner
of a nobleman, who compassionates you for the affection which you bear towards
your mother; for he has sent to the village where you directed him, and has
found the account you gave relating to her true.—With this impression
in your favour, it is my advice, that you endeavour to see and supplicate
the Baron for your release from prison, and all the peril of his justice.
Frederick [starting.]
I—I see the Baron!—I!—I supplicate for my deliverance.—Will
you favour me with his name?—Is it not Baron—
Anhalt
Baron Wildenhaim.
Frederick
Baron Wildenhaim! He lived formerly in Alsace.
Anhalt
The same.—About a year after the death of his wife, he left Alsace; and
arrived here a few weeks ago to take possession of this his paternal estate.
Frederick
So! his wife is dead;—and that generous young lady who came to my prison
just now is his daughter?
Anhalt
Miss Wildenhaim, his daughter.
Frederick
And that young gentleman, I saw with him this morning, is his
son?
Anhalt
He has no son.
Frederick [hastily.]
Oh, yes, he has—[recollecting himself]—I mean him that
was out shooting to-day.
Anhalt
He is not his son.
Frederick [to
himself.]
Thank Heaven!
Anhalt
He is only a visitor.
Frederick
I thank you for this information; and if you will undertake to procure me
a private interview with Baron Wildenhaim—
Anhalt
Why private? However, I will venture to take you for a short time from this
place, and introduce you; depending on your innocence, or your repentance—on
his conviction in your favour, or his mercy towards your guilt. Follow me.
[Exit.]
Frederick [following.]
I have beheld an affectionate parent in deep adversity.—Why should I
tremble thus?—Why doubt my fortitude, in the presence of an unnatural
parent in prosperity? [Exit.]
Scene 2
[A Room in the Castle. Enter Baron Wildenhaim and Amelia.]
Baron
I hope you judge more favourably of Count Cassel's understanding
since the private interview you have had with him. Confess to me
the exact effect of the long conference between you.
Amelia
To make me hate him.
Baron
What has he done?
Amelia
Oh! told me of such barbarous deeds he has committed.
Baron
What deeds?
Amelia
Made vows of love to so many women, that, on his marriage with
me, a hundred female hearts will at least be broken.
Baron
Psha! do you believe him?
Amelia
Suppose I do not; is it to his honour that I believe he tells a
falsehood?
Baron
He is mistaken merely.
Amelia
Indeed, my Lord, in one respect I am sure he speaks truth. For
our old Butler told my waiting-maid of a poor young creature who
has been deceived, undone; and she, and her whole family,
involved in shame and sorrow by his perfidy.
Baron
Are you sure the Butler said this?
Amelia
See him and ask him. He knows the whole story, indeed he does;
the names of the persons, and every circumstance.
Baron
Desire he may be sent to me.
Amelia [goes
to the door and calls.]
Order old Verdun to come to the Baron directly.
Baron
I know tale-bearers are apt to be erroneous. I'll hear from
himself, the account you speak of.
Amelia
I believe it is in verse.
Baron [angry.]
In verse!
Amelia
But, then, indeed it 's true.
[Enter Butler.]
Amelia
Verdun, pray have not you some true poetry?
Butler
All my poetry is true—and so far, better than some people's prose.
Baron
But I want prose on this occasion, and command you to give me nothing else.
[Butler bows.] Have you heard of an engagement which Count
Cassel is under to any other woman than my daughter?
Butler
I am to tell your honour in prose?
Baron
Certainly. [Butler appears uneasy and loath to speak.] Amelia,
he does not like to divulge what he knows in presence of a third person—leave
the room.
[Exit Amelia.]
Butler
No, no—that did not cause my reluctance to speak.
Baron
What then?
Butler
Your not allowing me to speak in verse—for here is the poetic poem. [Holding
up a paper.]
Baron
How dare you presume to contend with my will? Tell in plain
language all you know on the subject I have named.
Butler
Well then, my Lord, if you must have the account in quiet prose, thus it was
Phoebus, one morning, rose in the East, and having handed in the long-expected
day, he called up his brother Hymen—
Baron
Have done with your rhapsody.
Butler
Ay; I knew you'd like it best in verse—
There lived a lady in this land,
Whose charms the heart made tingle;
At church she had not given her hand
And therefore still was
single.
Baron
Keep to prose.
Butler
I will, my Lord; but I have repeated it so often in verse, I scarce know how.—Count
Casel, influenced by the designs of Cupid in his very worst humour,
-
"Count Cassel wooed this maid so rare,
And in her eye found grace
And if his purpose was not fair,"
Baron
No verse.
Butler
"It probably was base."
I beg your pardon, my Lord; but the verse will intrude in spite of my efforts to forget it. 'Tis as difficult for me at times to forget, as 'tis for other men at times to remember. But in plain truth, my Lord, the Count was treacherous, cruel, forsworn.
Baron
I am astonished!
Butler
And would be more so
if you would listen to the whole poem. [Most earnestly.]
Pray, my Lord, listen to it.
Baron
You know the family?
All the parties?
Butler
I will bring the father of the
damsel to prove the veracity of my muse. His name is Baden—poor old man!
"The sire consents to bless the pair,
And names the nuptial day,
When, lo! the bridegroom was not there,
Because he was away."
Baron
But tell me—Had the father
his daughter's innocence to deplore?
Butler
Ah! my Lord, ah! and you must
hear that part in rhyme. Loss of innocence never sounds well except in verse.
"For ah! the very night before,
No prudent guard upon her,
The Count he gave her oaths a score.
And took in change her honour.
MORAL.
Then you, who now lead single lives,
From this sad tale beware;
And do not act as you were wives,
Before you really are."
[Enter Count Cassel.]
Baron [to the
Butler.]
Leave the room instantly.
Count
Yes, good Mr. family
poet, leave the room, and take your doggerels with you.
Butler
Don't affront my poem, your honour;
for I am indebted to you for the plot.
"The Count he gave her oaths a score
And took in change her honour."
[Exit Butler.]
Baron
Count, you see me
agitated.
Count
What can be the
cause?
Baron
I'll not keep you in
doubt a moment. You are accused, young man, of being engaged to
another woman while you offer marriage to my child.
Count
To only one other woman?
Baron
What do you mean?
Count
My meaning is, that
when a man is young and rich, has travelled, and is no personal
object of disapprobation, to have made vows but to one woman, is
an absolute slight upon the rest of the sex.
Baron
Without evasion,
Sir, do you know the name of Baden? Was there ever a promise of
marriage made by you to his daughter? Answer me plainly: or must
I take a journey to inquire of the father?
Count
No—he can tell you no more
than, I dare say, you already know; and which I shall not contradict.
Baron
Amazing
insensibility! And can you hold your head erect while you
acknowledge perfidy?
Count
My dear baron,—if every
man, who deserves to have a charge such as this brought against him, was not
permitted to look up—it is a doubt whom we might not meet crawling on
all fours. [he accidently taps the Baron's shoulder.]
Baron [starts—recollects
himself—then in a faultering voice.]
Yet—nevertheless—the
act is so atrocious—
Count
But nothing new.
Baron
[faintly.]
Yes—I hope—I hope it
is new.
Count
What, did you never
meet with such a thing before?
Baron
[agitated.]
If I have—I pronounced the
man who so offended—a villain.
Count
You are singularly
scrupulous. I question if the man thought himself so.
Baron
Yes he did.
Count
How do you know?
Baron
[hesitating.]
I have heard him say
so.
Count
But he ate, drank,
and slept, I suppose?
Baron
[confused.]
Perhaps he did.
Count
And was merry with
his friends; and his friends as fond of him as ever?
Baron
Perhaps [confused]—perhaps
they were.
Count
And perhaps he now
and then took upon him to lecture young men for their
gallantries?
Baron
Perhaps he did.
Count
Why, then, after
all, Baron, your villain is a mighty good, prudent, honest
fellow; and I have no objection to your giving me that name.
Baron
But do you not think
of some atonement to the unfortunate girl?
Count
Did your villain atone?
Baron
No: when his reason
was matured, he wished to make some recompense; but his
endeavours were too late.
Count
I will follow his
example, and wait till my reason is matured, before I think
myself competent to determine what to do.
Baron
And 'till that time
I defer your marriage with my daughter.
Count
Would you delay her
happiness so long? Why, my dear Baron, considering the
fashionable life I lead, it may be these ten years before my
judgment arrives to its necessary standard.
Baron
I have the head-ach, Count—These
tidings have discomposed, disordered me—I beg your absence for a few
minutes.
Count
I obey—And let me assure
you, my Lord, that, although, from the extreme delicacy of your honour, you
have ever through life shuddered at seduction; yet, there are constitutions,
and there are circumstances, in which it can be palliated.
Baron
Never [violently.]
Count
Not in a grave, serious, reflecting
man such as you, I grant. But in a gay, lively, inconsiderate, flimsy,
frivolous coxcomb, such as myself, it is excusable: for me to keep my word
to a woman, would be deceit: 'tis not expected of me. It is in my character
to break oaths in love; as it is in your nature, my Lord, never to have spoken
any thing but wisdom and truth. [Exit.]
Baron
Could I have thought
a creature so insignificant as that, had power to excite
sensations such as I feel at present! I am, indeed, worse than he
is, as much as the crimes of a man exceed those of an idiot.
[Enter Amelia.]
Amelia
I heard the Count leave you,
my Lord, and so I am come to enquire—
Baron
[sitting down, and trying to compose himself.]
You are not to marry count Cassel—And
now, mention his name to me no more.
Amelia
I won't—indeed I won't—for
I hate his name.—But thank you, my dear father, for this good news [draws
a chair, and sits on the opposite side of the table on which he leans. After
a pause] And who am I to marry?
Baron [his
head on his hand.]
I can't tell. [Amelia
appears to have something on her mind which she wishes to disclose.]
Amelia
I never liked the
Count.
Baron
No more did I.
Amelia
[after a pause.]
I think love comes
just as it pleases, without being asked.
Baron
It does so [in
deep thought.]
Amelia
[after another pause.]
And there are
instances where, perhaps, the object of love makes the passion
meritorious.
Baron
To be sure there
are.
Amelia
For example; my
affection for Mr. Anhalt as my tutor.
Baron
Right.
Amelia
[after another pause.]
I should like to
marry. [sighing.]
Baron
So you shall [a pause.]
It is proper for everybody to marry.
Amelia
Why, then, does not
Mr. Anhalt marry?
Baron
You must ask him
that question yourself.
Amelia
I have.
Baron
And what did he say?
Amelia
Will you give me
leave to tell you what he said?
Baron
Certainly.
Amelia
And what I said to
him?
Baron
Certainly.
Amelia
And won't you be
angry?
Baron
Undoubtedly not.
Amelia
Why, then—you know you commanded
me never to disguise or conceal the truth.
Baron
I did so.
Amelia
Why, then he said—
Baron
What did he say?
Amelia
He said—he would not marry
me without your consent for the world.
Baron
[starting from his chair.]
And pray, how came
this the subject of your conversation?
Amelia [rising.]
I brought it up.
Baron
And what did you
say?
Amelia
I said that birth
and fortune were such old-fashioned things to me, I cared nothing
about either: and that I had once heard my father declare, he
should consult my happiness in marrying me, beyond any other
consideration.
Baron
I will once more repeat to you
my sentiments. It is the custom in this country for the children of nobility
to marry only with their equals; but as my daughter's content is more dear
to me than an ancient custom, I would bestow you on the first man I thought
calculated to make you happy: by this I do not mean to say that I should not
be severely nice in the character of the man to whom I gave you; and Mr. Anhalt,
from his obligations to me, and his high sense of honour, thinks too nobly—
Amelia
Would it not be
noble to make the daughter of his benefactor happy?
Baron
But when that daughter is a child,
and thinks like a child—
Amelia
No, indeed, papa, I begin to
think very like a woman. Ask him if I don't.
Baron
Ask-him! You feel
gratitude for the instructions you have received from him, and
you fancy it love.
Amelia
Are there two
gratitudes?
Baron
What do you mean?
Amelia
Because I feel
gratitude to you; but that is very unlike the gratitude I feel
towards him.
Baron
Indeed!
Amelia
Yes; and then he
feels another gratitude towards me. What 's that?
Baron
Has he told you so?
Amelia
Yes.
Baron
That was not right
of him.
Amelia
Oh! if you did but
know how I surprized him!
Baron
Surprized him?
Amelia
He came to me by
your command, to examine my heart respecting Count Cassel. I told
him that I would never marry the Count.
Baron
But him?
Amelia
Yes, him.
Baron
Very fine indeed!
And what was his answer?
Amelia
He talked of my rank
in life; of my aunts and cousins; of my grandfather, and
great-grandfather; of his duty to you; and endeavoured to
persuade me to think no more of him.
Baron
He acted honestly.
Amelia
But not politely.
Baron
No matter.
Amelia
Dear father! I shall never be
able to love another—Never be happy with any one else. [Throwing
herself on her knees.]
Baron
Rise, I command you.
[As she rises, enter Anhalt.]
Anhalt
My Lord, forgive me!
I have ventured, on the privilege of my office, as a minister of
holy charity, to bring the poor soldier, whom your justice has
arrested, into the adjoining room; and I presume to entreat you
will admit him to your presence, and hear his apology, or his
supplication.
Baron
Anhalt, you have
done wrong. I pity the unhappy boy; but you know I cannot, must
not forgive him.
Anhalt
I beseech you then,
my Lord, to tell him so yourself From your lips he may receive
his doom with resignation.
Amelia
Oh father! See him
and take pity on him; his sorrows have made him frantic.
Baron
Leave the room, Amelia. [on
her attempting to speak, he raises his voice.] Instantly.—[Exit
Amelia.]
Anhalt
He asked a private
audience: perhaps he has some confession to make that may relieve
his mind, and may be requisite for you to hear.
Baron
Well, bring him in,
and do you wait in the adjoining room, till our conference is
over. I must then, Sir, have a conference with you.
Anhalt
I shall obey your
commands. [He goes to the door, and re-enters with Frederick.
Anhalt then retires at the same door.]
Baron [haughtily
to Frederick.]
I know, young man, you plead
your mother's wants in excuse for an act of desperation: but powerful as this
plea might be in palliation of a fault, it cannot extenuate a crime like yours.
Frederick
I have a plea for my
conduct even more powerful than a mother's wants.
Baron
What 's that?
Frederick
My father's cruelty.
Baron
You have a father
then?
Frederick
I have, and a rich one—Nay,
one that's reputed virtuous, and honourable. A great man, possessing estates
and patronage in abundance; much esteemed at court, and beloved by his tenants;
kind, benevolent, honest, generous—
Baron
And with all those
great qualities, abandons you?
Frederick
He does, with all
the qualities I mention.
Baron
Your father may do
right; a dissipated, desperate youth, whom kindness cannot draw
from vicious habits, severity may.
Frederick
You are mistaken—My father
does not discard me for my vices—He does not know me—has never seen
me—He abandoned me, even before I was born.
Baron
What do you say?
Frederick
The tears of my mother are all
that I inherit from my father. Never has he protected or supported me—never
protected her.
Baron
Why don't you apply
to his relations?
Frederick
They disown me, too—I am,
they say, related to no one—All the world disclaim me, except my mother—and
there again, I have to thank my father.
Baron
How so?
Frederick
Because I am an illegitimate
son.—My seduced mother has brought me up in patient misery. Industry
enabled her to give me an education; but the days of my youth commenced with
hardship, sorrow, and danger.—My companions lived happy around me, and
had a pleasing prospect in their view, while bread and water only were my
food, and no hopes joined to sweeten it. But my father felt not that!
Baron
[to himself .]
He touches my heart.
Frederick
After five years' absence from
my mother, I returned this very day, and found her dying in the streets for
want—Not even a hut to shelter her, or a pallet of straw—But my
father, he feels not that! He lives in a palace, sleeps on the softest down,
enjoys all the luxuries of the great; and when he dies, a funeral sermon will
praise his great benevolence, his Christian charities.
Baron
[greatly agitated.]
What is your
father's name?
Frederick
He took advantage of
an innocent young woman, gained her affection by flattery and
false promises; gave life to an unfortunate being, who was on the
point of murdering his father.
Baron
[shuddering.]
Who is he?
Frederick
Baron Wildenhaim. [The
Baron's emotion expresses the sense of amazement, guilt, shame,
and horror.]
Frederick
In this house did you rob my
mother of her honour; and in this house I am a sacrifice for the crime. I
am your prisoner—I will not be free—I am a robber—I give myself
up.—You shall deliver me into the hands of justice—You
shall accompany me to the spot of public execution. You shall hear in vain
the chaplain's consolation and injunctions. You shall find how I, in despair,
will, to the last moment, call for retribution on my father.
Baron
Stop! Be pacified—
Frederick
And when you turn your head from
my extended corse, you will behold my weeping mother—Need I paint how
her eyes will greet you?
Baron
Desist—barbarian, savage,
stop!
[Enter Anhalt alarmed.]
Anhalt
What do I hear? What
is this? Young man, I hope you have not made a second attempt.
Frederick
Yes; I have done
what it was your place to do. I have made a sinner tremble [points
to the Baron, and exit.]
Anhalt
What can this mean?—I do
not comprehend—
Baron
He is my son!—He is my son!—Go,
Anhalt,—advise me—help me—Go to the poor woman, his mother—He
can show you the way—make haste—speed to protect her—
Anhalt
But what am I to—
Baron
Go.—Your heart will tell
you how to act. [Exit Anhalt.] [Baron distractedly.]
Who am I? What am I? Mad—raving—no—I have a son—A son!
The bravest—I will—I must—oh! [with tenderness.] Why
have I not embraced him yet? [increasing his voice.] why not pressed
him to my heart? Ah! see—[looking after him] He flies from the
castle Who's there? Where are my attendants? [Enter two servants.]
Follow him—bring the prisoner back.—But observe my command—treat
him with respect—treat him as my son—and your master. [Exit.]
END OF ACT IV
