All.
Nay, King, nay! Euric. Sire, grant us time to accustom ourselves to that horrible thing.
Teja.
Horrible? What seemeth horrible to ye? I speak not indeed to Romans who reel from the mass to the lupanar, and from the lupanar to the mass. Yet there is not one among ye whose breast is not covered with scars like an old stone with moss. These twenty years ye have made sport of death, and now it cometh in earnest, doth a Gothic man speak of "horrible"? What will ye? Will ye lie and hunger? Will ye devour one the other, like rats? Good. But I shall not do it with ye! Not I! To-morrow, I take spear and shield, and go to gain on my own account the bit of death for which I long and languish like a thief since ye made me leader of your lost cause.--And thou at least, my old companion, thou comest with me--eh?
Ildibad(falling down before him).
I thank thee, Sire! Why ask whether I come!
All.
We too, King. We all, we all!
Theodemir.
Thou shouldst be praised, King, that thou hast pointed to us the way of happiness. And be not angry with us, if we were not able straightway to follow thee. Now I perceive clearly thy great thought. From grief and discord and despair, we rise, we do not go down to death.... Laughing, treadeth each on the other's corpse, in order laughing to sink down like him.... A light will go forth from us over the wide world.... Ah, that will be a draught from golden goblets--that will be a riot of exultant joy. Thank thee, my King. Often have I envied thee thy crown, now I venture to envy it no more.
Teja.
The thing will come to pass for the most part otherwise than thou dost imagine it, Theodemir. Yet I am glad that among the Goths, such inspiration still abideth. Euric. Also to me, King, grudge not a word; for I have indeed seen golden days.... Thou art not only the boldest, thou art also the wisest of all.... Had we now faltered, so should we all have fallen without defence, by the murderer's sword ... And not only we, but the sick--and the children--and the wives.
Teja.
Ay, indeed, the wives! Of them I had not thought at all. Euric. But now to-morrow, we shall stand in battle, and on the second and third day, if we hold out so long, so that astonishment and fear at the miracle will lay hold on the Byzantian and all the rabble of Huns and Suevians which he draggeth after him.... We cannot utterly destroy them, but we can bait them with our blood till they be weary.... And when no one on that side is able to hold spear and bow, then shall the hour come when the Eunuch will have it said: "Depart in peace." How many of ye are then still left? I fear not many----
Teja(laughing).
We, surely not!
All(with cruel laughter).
Nay, we surely not! Euric. Then shall they take wives and children into the midst of them, and, head high, with naked swords, descend straight through the Byzantian camp toward Naples, to buy a piece of bread. And I tell ye, with such fear shall they be gazed at, that not even once shall a dog of the Huns dare to bark at them.
Teja.
Wife and child! Wife and child! What have we to do with them? Athanaric. King, thou revilest the dearest of our possessions.
Teja.
Maybe!--I know only that there were too many mouths in the morning when the rations were divided. Otherwise we might have been able to support ourselves. And yet, this one thing I say to ye--and I shall enjoin it on the men without, upon their word as warriors--that none of the women know aught of our purpose. I will not that even one man be softened by the tears and cries of women. Athanaric. Sire, that is inhuman which thou requirest, to take no leave of our wives.
Teja.
Take leave of them, me notwithstanding, but remain dumb as ye do it. He that hath wife and child here, let him go to the Wagenburg, and provide himself food and drink, for the women delight to keep a remnant between their fingers. This let him share with the unmarried, and be joyful when he can. Euric. And what should they say to their wives, Sire, since already thou hast strictly forbidden communication?
Teja.
Say ye, it happens because of my marriage! Or the ships are there, if that sounds more worthy of belief. Say what ye will. Only that one thing, keep for yourselves.
Theodemir.
And wilt thou thyself nevermore see thy young wife?
Teja.
Eh? Nay.... I mark not the least desire to. Surely now I shall speak to the people. I would that I had thy tongue, Theodemir.--The errand is troublesome to me, for I should speak great words, and I feel them not. Come! (Exeunt all, withIldibadslowly following.)
The stage remains unoccupied for a short time. The voice of the King is heard, who is received with acclamation. Then after a few seconds, subdued cries of woe.Ildibadreturns and sits down upon a stump near the curtain. Then he lights two torches which he puts into the links, and prepares the weapons of the King. Outside arises a shout of enthusiasm, which again is subdued.
ILDIBAD.BISHOP AGILA(tottering in with exhaustion and excitement).
Ildibad.
Wilt thou not be seated, most worthy lord?
Bishop.
And goest thou not to hear what the King saith?
Ildibad.
That hath naught to do with me, most worthy lord. The King and I--for a long time, we are united in action.
Bishop.
Verily, he standeth there like the angel of death.
Ildibad.
Whether angel or devil, it is the same for me. (The shout of enthusiasm rises anew and approaches the tent.)
THE SAME.THE KING(with flaming eyes, pale yet calm).
Teja.
Are the weapons in order?--Ah, 'tis thou, Bishop!
Bishop.
King, my King!
Teja.
Surely, thou shall now be driven to seek another flock,
Bishop.
Wilt thou but give me thy blessing, pray give it quickly.... Theodemir is about to come.
Bishop.
And dost thou know thyself to be free, my son, from the trembling of every dying creature?
Teja.
Bishop, I have been a good servant of thy church. To dedicate her temples, as once Totilas did, have I not been able; but what there was to kill, I have killed for her welfare. Shall I perform a posture for the blessed Arius?
Bishop.
My son, I understand thee not.
Teja.
For that I am sorry, my father.
Bishop.
And hast thou taken leave?
Teja.
Leave--of whom? Rather have I a mind to cry "welcome"; but yet nothing is there!
Bishop(indignantly).
I speak of thy wife, Sire.
Teja.
At this hour, I know only men,
Bishop.
Of wives I know nothing. Farewell! (EnterTheodemirandIldibad.)
Bishop.
Farewell--and God be gracious to thy soul!
Teja.
I thank thee, Bishop.... Ah, there art thou, Theodemir. (ExitBishop Agila.)
TEJA.THEODEMIR.ILDIBAD(in the background, occupied with the King's weapons, going noiselessly in and out).
Teja.
What are the warriors doing?
Theodemir.
They who have their wives here, are gone to the Wagenburg.... There they will surely eat and drink and play with their children.
Teja.
And is thy wife here also?
Theodemir.
Yea, Sire!
Teja.
And thy children?
Theodemir.
Two boys, Sire!
Teja.
And thou didst not go?
Theodemir.
I waited on thy call, Sire.
Teja.
What hour is it?
Theodemir.
The ninth, Sire.
Teja.
And what do they who are free--the unmarried, and they whose wives are not here?
Theodemir.
They lie by the fires and are silent. (ExitIldibad.)
Teja.
See to it that something is brought to them also. I already ordered it. Will they sleep?
Theodemir.
No one will sleep.
Teja.
At midnight, come and fetch me.
Theodemir.
Yea, Sire. (Makes as if to go.) Teja (with a shade of anxiety). Theodemir, stay!... Thou hast always been my adversary.
Theodemir.
I was, Sire. For a long time I have ceased to be.
Teja(stretches out his arms).
Come! (They hold each other in a close embrace; then they clasp hands.) I would fain hold thee here, but truly thou must go to thy wife. (Ildibadagain enters.) And forget not to have food brought to those who are gazing at the fires. They should have occupation. Brooding profiteth not in such an hour.
Theodemir.
Yea, Sire. (Exit.)
TEJA.ILDIBAD.
Teja.
Now, my old man, we should have nothing further to do upon this earth. Shall we talk?
Ildibad.
Sire, if I might beg a favour for myself.
Teja.
Still favours, at this time?... I believe thou wouldst flatter me, old companion!
Ildibad.
Sire, I am old. My arm would grow weary with bearing a spear, more quickly than is good for thy life. And by my fault shouldst thou not fall, Sire.... If no one else sleeps, think not evil of me, and let me sleep away the two hours.
Teja.
(With a new gleam of deep anxiety.) Go, but not far away.
Ildibad.
Surely, Sire, I have always lain as a dog before thy tent. In respect of that, on this last night, nothing will be changed.... Hast thou orders to give, Sire?
Teja.
Good-night! (ExitIldibad.)
TEJA.AfterwardBALTHILDA. (TEJAleft alone, throws himself on his couch, staring straight before him with a bitter, wearied smile.BALTHILDAenters shyly. In one hand she carries a basket containing meat, bread, and fruits; in the other, a golden tankard of wine. She advances a few steps toward the table.)
Teja(half rising).
Who art thou?
Balthilda(feebly and timidly).
Knowest thou me not, King?
Teja(rising from his couch).
The torches burn dimly.... Thy voice I have heard before!... What wilt thou of me?
Balthilda.
I am indeed thy wife, King.
Teja(after a silence).
And what wilt thou of me?
Balthilda.
My mother sendeth me. I am to bring thee food and wine. The others eat and drink, and so my mother saith---- (She stops.)
Teja.
How didst thou enter here?... Did not the watch forbid thee to enter?
Balthilda(drawing herself up).
I am the Queen, Sire.
Teja.
Yea, verily. And Ildibad, what said he?
Balthilda.
Thy old spearbearer lay and slept. I stepped across him, Sire.
Teja.
I thank thee, Balthilda.... I am not hungry. I thank thee. (Silence.Balthildastands and looks tearfully at him.)
Teja.
I see, thou hast still a request to make of me. I pray thee, speak!
Balthilda.
My King, if I return home with a well-filled basket, then shall I be mocked by all the women.... And the men shall say----
Teja(smiling).
And what shall the men say?
Balthilda.
He esteemeth her so little that--he consenteth not to take food from her hand.
Teja.
On my word, I assure thee, Balthilda, the men have other things to think on ... yet nevertheless ... reproach thou shalt not suffer through me. Set thy basket there.... Have ye still much of such things?
Balthilda.
Sire, these two weeks have my mother and I and the women about us put aside the best of our share--flour and fruits--and the fowls have we not killed till this very day.
Teja.
Then indeed must ye have been mightily hungry, ye women?
Balthilda.
Ah, it hath done us no hurt, Sire.... It was for a feast.
Teja.
In truth? Ye believed we should celebrate a feast to-day?
Balthilda.
Well ... is it then not a feast, Sire?
Teja.
(Is silent and bites his nether lip, examining her furtively.) Wilt thou not be seated, Balthilda?... I should not yet let thee go home! That too would be a reproach, would it not?
(Balthildais silent and looks down.)
Teja.
And if I bade thee, wouldst thou wish to stay?
Balthilda.
Sire, how should a wife not wish to stay beside her husband?
Teja.
Hast thou then the feeling in thy heart, that I--am--thy--husband?
Balthilda.
Indeed, how could it be otherwise? The Bishop hath joined us together.
Teja.
And wert thou glad when he did it?
Balthilda.
Yea.... Nay, I was not glad then.
Teja.
Why not?
Balthilda(with a bright glance).
Perhaps because, because ... I was afraid, Sire, and I was praying.
Teja.
What didst thou pray?
Balthilda.
That God would grant to me, his humble handmaid, the power to bring thee the happiness which thou needest, and which thou awaitest from me.
Teja.
Which I from thee--that didst thou pray?
Balthilda.
Sire, may I not offer thee the food, and the wine?
Teja.
Nay, nay!... Hearken, Balthilda: without, by our fires, are warriors--they are hungry--I am not hungry.
Balthilda.
Sire, give them what thou pleasest ... give them everything!
Teja.
I thank thee, Balthilda. (Raising the curtain.) Ho there, watch! Come in, but prudently so as not to wake the old man.... (Watcher enters.) Here, take this basket with food and wine, and divide it honestly.... Say your Queen sends it.
Watcher.
May I thank the Queen, Sire?
(Tejanods.Watchershakes her hand heartily. Exit.)
Teja.
Go--and bring me to eat!
Balthilda (perplexed).
Sire--why--mockest thou--me?
Teja.
Dost thou then not understand me? If thou wilt be my wife, thou must offer me my property, not thine!
Balthilda.
Is not all of mine thy property, Sire?
Teja.
Hm! (Silence. He takes her hands.) Call me not Sire and call me not King.... Knowest thou not my name?
Balthilda.
Thy name is Teja!
Teja.
Say it yet once again! Balthilda (softly, turning away). Teja!
Teja.
Is the name so strange to thee? (Balthildashakes her head.)
Teja.
Then why hesitate?
Balthilda.
Not for that, Sire! Since I knew that I was to serve thee as thy wife, I have often named thee by day and in the night. Only I never said it aloud....
Teja.
And before thou knewest it, what was then thy thought?
Balthilda.
Sire, why dost thou ask?
Teja.
And why dost thou not answer?
Balthilda.
Sire, when I heard of thy bloody commands, and the others feared thee--then I often thought: How unhappy must he be that the destiny of the Goths compelleth him to such deeds!
Teja.
That hast thou thought?--That hast thou----?
Balthilda.
Sire, was it wrong that I should think it?
Teja.
Thou hadst never seen my face, and thou didst understand me? And they who were around me, the wise men and tried soldiers, they understood me not!... Who art thou, woman? Who hath taught thee to read my heart? Thee, thee alone of all?
Balthilda.
Sire--I----
Teja.
All shuddered and muttering hid themselves from me in corners--and saw not the way, the only way which haply might still have saved them. When the butcher's knife was already at their throat, they still told themselves some tale of compromise. And then came the crafty Greeks, measured themselves with them, and killed them one by one. Thus perished the hundred thousand. And I wrapped myself in grief and anger--I cast hope away from me like a bloody rag, I sprang into the breach with scornful laughter. I sowed horrors about me, when my own heart was convulsed with horror of myself. I have not once been drunk with all the blood. I have killed, killed, and still knew all the while: it is in vain! (He sinks to his seat overcome with anguish, and stares straight before him.)
Balthilda(with a shy attempt at a caress).
My poor dear King! Dear Teja!
Teja.
(Raises his head and looks confusedly around him.) My God, what do I here?... Why do I tell all this to thee? Thou must not despise me because I am such a babbler.... Nor must thou believe that it is aught of remorse that compels me to this confession.... Perhaps I feel pity for the victims, but my conscience stands high above all that!... Far higher than my poor Gothic throne.... Look not upon me so.... There is in thy eye something that compels me to reveal my inmost thought to thee.... Who hath endued thee with this power over me?... Begone!... Nay, stay ... Stay! I wish to tell thee yet something, quite in secret, before thou goest.... Besides, I should not cry out so, otherwise the watch may hear.... Incline thine ear to me. Never yet have I confessed it to any man, nor have I held it possible that I should ever confess it.... I bear an envy within me which devoureth my heart, whenever I think--knowest thou toward whom?... Toward Totilas.... Yea, toward Totilas in his grave.... They called him the "shining" Totilas and their affection still cleaveth to him to-day.... Their eyes still flash when they even think of him.
Balthilda.
Ah, Sire, how thou dost fret thyself!
Teja(anxiously).
Didst thou ever see him?
Balthilda.
Never.
Teja.
God be thanked! For hadst thou ever seen him as I saw him on the morning of the battle in which he fell ... arrayed in golden armour ... and the white steed pranced beneath him, and his yellow locks streamed like sunlight about him. And he laughed the foe in the face.... Laughed like a child!... Ah, laughing to die like him!
Balthilda.
His lot was easy, Sire! He went from hence, but left to thee as an inheritance the half-destroyed kingdom.... How shouldst thou then have laughed?
Teja(eagerly).
Is it not so?--Is it not so?--How ... Ah, that doeth good! (Stretching himself.) Ah, thou doest me good!
Balthilda.
How proud thou makest me, Sire!
Teja.
But hadst thou seen him and compared him to me, thou wouldst spit upon me! Balthilda (fervently). I should have seen only thee, Sire dear, dear Sire!
(Tejalooks askance at her, shyly and distrustfully, then walks silently to the left, sinks down before the seat on the throne, and burying his face in the chair, weeps bitterly.)
Balthilda.
(Follows him shyly and kneels down beside him.) Teja, beloved, if I hurt thee, pardon me!
Teja(rises and grasps her arm).
Tell it to no one!
Balthilda.
What, Sire?
Teja.
That thou hast seen me weep! Swear it to me!
Balthilda.
It hath been told me that I am now even as a piece of thy body--and of thy soul also!... Wherefore should I swear?
Teja.
If thou art a piece of my body, then come nearer to me, that thou mayst not see my tears.
Balthilda.
Let me dry them for thee! See, for this cause am I here.
Teja.
Ah, 'tis well with me.... I must indeed have died of shame, for never yet hath a Gothic man been seen to weep. Even when we buried Totilas, we wept not.... Yet I am not ashamed.... If I but knew why suddenly it is so well with me!... Balthilda, I will tell thee something. But thou must not laugh me to scorn.