Idenst. Please you, my good lord, One says he is no stranger. Werner (aloud and hastily). W ́ho says that? [They look at him with surprise. Idenst. Why, no one spoke of you, or to you!-but

Here's one his Excellency may be pleased
To recognise.
[Pointing to Gabor.
Gabor. I seek not to disturb

His noble memory.

Stralenh. I apprehend

This is one of the strangers to whose aid I owe my rescue. Is not that the other? [Pointing to Werner. My state, when I was succour'd, must excuse My uncertainty to whom I owe so much. Idenst. He!-no, my Lord! he rather wants for rescue

Than can afford it. 'Tis a poor sick man, Travel-tired, and lately risen from a bed From whence he never dream'd to rise. Stralenh. Methought

That there were two..

Gabor. There were, in company; But, in the service render'd to your lordship, I needs must say but one, and he is absent. The chief part of whatever aid was render'd, Was his: it was his fortune to be first. My will was not inferior, but his strength And youth outstripp'd me; therefore do

not waste

Your thanks on me. I was but a glad second Unto a nobler principal.

Stralenh. Where is he?

Would pass him by unknown. I must be wary; An error would spoil all.

Idenst. Your Lordship seems Pensive. Will it not please you to pass on? Stralenh. "Tis past fatigue which gives my weigh'd-down spirit

An outward show of thought. I will to rest. Idenst. The Prince's chamber is prepared, with all

The very furniture the Prince used when Last here, in its full splendour.

(Aside). Somewhat tatter'd, And devilish damp, but fine enough by torchlight;

And that's enough for your right noble blood Of twenty quarterings upon a hatchment; So let their bearer sleep 'neath something like one

Now, as he one day will for ever lie.

Stralenh (rising, and turning to Gabor) Good night, good people! Sir, I trust to

the cottage, where

Your Excellency rested for an hour,

And said he would be here to-morrow.

To such a presence.

Stralenh. (to Idenst.) Peace, intendant! Idenst. Oh!

I am dumb.

Stralenh. (to Werner) Have you been long here? Werner. Long? Stralenh. I sought An answer, not an echo.

Werner. You may seek

Both from the walls. I am not used to answer Those whom I know not.

Stralenh. Indeed! ne'er the less You might reply with courtesy, to what Is ask'd in kindness.

Werner. When I know it such,

I will requite- that is, reply--in unison.
Stralenh. The intendant said, you had
been detain'd by sickness-
If I could aid you-journeying the same way?
Werner (quickly). I am not journeying
the same way.
Stralenh. How know ye
That, ere you know my route?
Werner. Because there is

But one way that the rich and poor must tread Together. You diverged from that dread path

Some hours ago, and I some days; henceforth

All to one home.

Werner. Many have such:none?

Stralenh. None which can Interest a mere stranger. Werner. Then forgive

Have you

The same unknown and humble stranger, if
He wishes to remain so to the man
Who can have nought in common with him.
Stralenh. Sir,

I will not balk your humour, though untoward:

I only meant you service-but, good night! Intendant, show the way! (to Gabor) Sir, you will with me?

[Exeunt Stralenheim and Attendants, Idenstein and Gabor. Werner (solus). 'Tis he! I am taken in the toils. Before

I quitted Hamburgh,Giulio,his late steward,
Inform'd me, that he had obtain❜d an order
From Brandenburgh's elector, for the arrest
Of Kruitzner (such the name I then bore),
when

I came upon the frontier; the free city
Alone preserved my freedom-till I left
Its walls-fool that I was to quit them! But
I deem'd this humble garb, and route obscure,
Had baffled the slow hounds in their pursuit.
What's to be done? He knows me not by
person;

Nor could aught, save the eye of apprehension,

Have recognised him, after twenty years,
We met so rarely and so coldly in
Our youth. But those about him! Now I can
Divine the frankness of the Hungarian, who,
No doubt, is a mere tool and spy of Stra-
lenheim's

To sound and to secure me. Without means! Sick, poor-begirt too with the flooding rivers,

Impassable even to the wealthy, with
All the appliances which purchase modes
Of overpowering peril with men's lives, -
How can I hope? An hour ago methought
My state beyond despair; and now, 'tis such,
The past seems paradise. Another day,

Of honours, rights, and my inheritance, When a few drops of gold might save me still In favouring an escape.

Enter IDENSTEIN and FRITZ in conversation,
Fritz. Immediately.

Idenst. I tell you, 'tis impossible.
Fritz. It must

Be tried, however; and if one express
Fail, you must send on others, till the answer
Arrives from Frankfort, from the com-
mandant.

Idenst. I will do what I can.
Fritz. And recollect

To spare no trouble; you will be repaid
Tenfold.

Idenst. The Baron is retired to rest? Fritz. He hath thrown himself into an easy chair

Beside the fire, and slumbers; and has order'd

He may not be disturb'd until eleven,
When he will take himself to bed.
Idenst. Before

An hour is past I'll do my best to serve him.
Fritz. Remember!
[Exit Fritz.
Idenst. The devil take these great men!

they

Think all things made for them. Now here must 1

Rouse up some half a dozen shivering vassals

From their scant pallets, and, at peril of Their lives, despatch them o'er the river towards

Frankfort. Methinks the Baron's own experience

Some hours ago might teach him fellowfeeling:

But no, "it must," and there's an end. How now?

Are you there, Mynheer Werner?
Werner. You have left
Your noble guest right quickly.

Idenst. Yes-he's dozing,

And seems to like that none should sleep besides.

Here is a packet for the commandant
Of Frankfort, at all risks and all expenses;
But I must not lose time: Good night!
[Exit Idenstein.

Werner. "To Frankfort!"
So, so, it thickens! Ay, "the commandant.”
This tallies well with all the prior steps
Of this cool calculating fiend, who walks
Between me and my father's house.

doubt

No

He writes for a detachment to convey me Into some secret fortress.-Sooner than This [Werner looks around, and snatches up a knife lying on a table in a recess. Now I am master of myself at least. Hark,-footsteps! How do I know that Stralenheim

Will wait for even the show of that authority
Which is to overshadow usurpation?
That he suspects me 's certain. I'm alone;
He with a numerous train; I weak; he
strong

In gold, in numbers, 1ank, authority;
I nameless, or involving in my name
Destruction, till I reach my own domain;
He full-blown with his titles, which impose
Still further on these obscure petty burghers
Than they could do elsewhere. Hark! nearer
still!

I'll to the secret passage, which communi

cates

With the No! all is silent-'twas my fancy!

Still as the breathless interval between The flash and thunder:-I must hush my soul

Amidst its perils. Yet I will retire, To see if still be unexplored the passage I wot of: it will serve me as a den Of secrecy for some hours, at the worst. [Werner draws a pannel and exit, closing it after him.

Enter GABOR and JOSEPHINE, Gabor. Where is your husband? Josephine. Here, I thought: I left him Not long since in his chamber. But these

rooms

Have many outlets, and he may be gone To accompany the intendant.

Gabor. Baron Stralenheim Put many questions to the intendant on The subject of your lord, and, to be plain, I have my doubts if he means well. Josephine. Alas!

What can there be in common with the proud

And wealthy Baron and the unknown Werner?

Gabor. That you know best. Josephine. Or, if it were so, how Come you to stir yourself in his behalf, Rather than that of him whose life you

saved?

Gabor. I help'd to save him, as in peril; but

I did not pledge myself to serve him in Oppression. I know well these nobles, and Their thousand modes of trampling on the

poor.

I have proved them; and my spirit boils up when

I find them practising against the weak :This is my only motive.

Josephine. It would be

Not easy to persuade my consort of
Your good intentions.

Gabor. Is he so suspicious?
Josephine. He was not once; but time
and troubles have
Made him what you beheld.
Gabor. I'm sorry for it.

Be better.

Third Peasant. I have neither, and will venture.

Idenst. That's right. A gallant carle, and fit to be

A soldier. I'll promote you to the ranks In the Prince's body-guard-if you succeed; And you shall have besides in sparkling coin Two thalers.

Third Peasant. No more?

Idenst. Out upon your avarice! Can that low vice alloy so much ambition? I tell thee, fellow, that two thalers in Small change will subdivide into a treasure. Do not five hundred thousand heroes daily Risk lives and souls for the tithe of one thaler?

When had you half the sum?

Third Peasant. Never-but ne'er
The less I must have three.

Idenst. Have you forgot
Whose vassal you were born, knave?
Third Peasant. No-the Prince's,
And not the stranger's.

Idenst. Sirrah! in the Prince's
Absence, I'm sovereign; and the Baron is
My intimate connexion :-"Cousin Idenstein!
(Quoth he) you'll order out a dozen villains."
And so, you villains, troop-march-march,
I say

And if a single dog's ear of this packet
Be sprinkled by the Oder-look to it!
For every page of paper, shall a hide
Of yours be stretch'd as parchment on a
drum,

Like Ziska's skin, to beat alarm to all
Refractory vassals, who can not effect
Impossibilities-Away, ye earth-worms!

[Exit, driving them out. Josephine (coming forward). I fain would shun these scenes, too oft repeated, Of feudal tyranny o'er petty victims; I cannot aid, and will not witness such. Even here, in this remote, unnamed, dull

spot,

The dimmest in the district's map, exist
The insolence of wealth in poverty
O'er something poorer still the pride of rank

In servitude, o'er something still more

servile;

And vice in misery affecting still
A tatter'd splendour. What a state of being!
In Tuscany, my own dear sunny land,
Our nobles were but citizens and merchants,
Like Cosmo. We had evils, but not such
As these; and our all-ripe and gushing
valleys

Made poverty more cheerful, where each herb
Was in itself a meal, and every vine
Rain'd, as it were, the beverage which
makes glad

The heart of man; and the ne'er unfelt sun (But rarely clouded, and, when clouded, leaving

His warmth behind in memory of his beams) Makes the worn mantle, and the thin robe, less

Oppressive than an emperor's jewell'd purple.

But, here! the despots of the north appear To imitate the ice-wind of their clime, Searching the shivering vassal through

his rags,

To wring his soul-as the bleak elements His form. And 'tis to be amongst these sovereigns

My husband pants! and such his pride of birth

That twenty years of usage, such as no
Father, born in a humble state, could nerve
His soul to persecute a son withal,
Hath changed no atom of his early nature;
But I, born nobly also, from my father's
Kindness was taught a different lesson.
Father!

May thy long-tried and now rewarded spirit

Look down on us and our so long desired Ulric! I love my son, as thou didst me! What's that? Thou, Werner! can it be? and thus.

Enter WERNER hastily, with the knife in his hand, by the secret pannel, which he closes hurriedly after him.

Werner (not at first recognising her). Discovered! then I'll stab - (recognising her) Ah! Josephine,

Why art thou not at rest?

Josephine. What rest? My God! What doth this mean?

Werner (showing a rouleau).

gold-gold, Josephine,

Josephine. I dare not think thee guilty of dishonour.

Werner. Dishonour!
Josephine. I have said it.
Werner. Let us hence:

'Tis the last night, I trust, that we need pass here.

Josephine. And not the worst, I hope. Werner. Hope! I make sure. But let us to our chamber. Josephine. Yet one questionWhat hast thou done?

Werner (fiercely). Left one thing undone, which

Had made all well: let me not think of it! Away!

Josephine. Alas, that I should doubt of thee! [Exeunt.

Will rescue us from this detested dungeon.
Josephine. And how obtain'd?—that knife!
Werner. "Tis bloodles-yet.
Away--we must to our chamber.

Josephine. But whence comest thou? Werner. Ask not! but let us think where we shall go

This this will make us way-(showing the gold)

I'll fit them now.