EnterSophiaReissman.
Sophia knocks. Frederica screams, and covers her face with her hands.
Soph.(comes in.) Any good people in this house? (Fred. rises and curtesies, her eyes cast down.) They must be all dead, as no one is to be found.
Fred.I am quite alone in the house, madam.
Soph.Do you know me, sweet girl?
Fred.You are, Miss--yes--but--
Soph.Reissman. The Aulic Counsellor Reissman's daughter.
Fred.So; I am glad; I know it well enough; but pray do me the favour to be seated.
Soph.My visit will be but short. I am come to form an acquaintance with the sister of a gentleman who is not indifferent to me, as you may know perhaps.
Fred.We have been told, that he is to have the honour--
Soph.And then I wish to put a question to you, in whose praise I have heard so much, and for whom I entertain great esteem. I expect you will answer it candidly.
Fred.You do me an honour.
Soph.Nothing of that. We are going to be nearer,--nay, very nearly connected with one another. My happiness is concerned in that question; and so I had rather hear you say, that the confidence I repose in you gives you pleasure, if it really does so.
Fred.Pardon my surprise. I am not myself in this moment. I am masqued in a dress that is not suited to my condition in life. My brother has sent it to me. I mean to return the whole. Now I have told you so, I am more easy; and I am now ready to answer every question you may ask with candour.
Soph.Well then, I will candidly own, that I love and esteem your brother for what he is, for what he yet may become, and for what, I hope, he will yet be willing to become. In one respect only I am quite a stranger to him, and in this respect I must remain so, if--and therefore I have applied to you. Upon what footing, pray, are you with him, you and your father?
Fred.We? Upon a good footing! (After a pause with affected vivacity.) Oh, upon a very good footing!
Soph.I say no.
Fred.We are, indeed.
Soph.And again I say no. His silence made me suspect him. And you, my good girl, if you were quite satisfied with his conduct, quite so, as a sister would be with a good brother, you would, in answer to my question, have told me all that love, gratitude, and benevolence, can inspire in one continued strain. You, therefore, are not, at least not particularly so, upon good terms. Whose fault can that be? I am sure not your good father's: report contradicts that; and, I think, I have partly convinced myself of it. Consequently, it is your brother's fault; and that I do not like.
Fred.Your suppositions crowd so upon me--
Soph.Not my suppositions, but truth. Had you satisfactory truth to return, you would not hesitate so much.
Fred.It may be easily conceived, that the difference of rank between him and us will occasion many trifling differences, for which we blame my brother more than we ought perhaps.
Soph.It may be so partly;--but then it should be no more than trifling, and as such ought always to be removed by him who has the advantage.
EnterGernau.Gernau, startled at Frederica's dress, discovers the satin gown;--steps forward; once more looks at Frederica, bows politely to Sophia, and is going to withdraw.
Fred.Stay, if you please.--
Gern.I do not wish to intrude.
Soph.No ceremonies; our conversation is at an end. It is not the last we shall have, I hope. In that case it has been of use, if not to us all, most certainly to me. Frederica is greatly embarrassed, while Gernau, unable to conceal his chagrin, and to keep his countenance, examines the satin.
Soph.(observing both.) If I mistake not, Sir, you have a particular interest that every dress should become this amiable girl;--you certainly are of my opinion, that all the pretty things her brother has just now sent her cannot add to her charms. (Curtesies to him and to Frederica.) Good bye. (Goes.)
(Fred. attends her.)
Soph.(turns quick round.) If my visit has proved agreeable, I beg you will not attend me; and you, Sir, may meanwhile confirm, that I am right in my opinion of my young friend. (Exit quickly.)
Frederica,Gernau.
Fred.I shall stay then, dear Friend. What do you think of me? (Takes off her cloak and hat.)
Gern.I think I find you quite in the modern stile.
Fred.All sent by my brother.
Gern.Very gallant! and then the furniture, all is strange to me.
Fred.All from my brother.
Gern.What is meant? Perhaps in honour of my departure?
Fred.Departure!--
Gern.I am going to be removed from this place.
Fred.Where to?
Gern.To Freethal.
Fred.Gernau!
Gern.Yes, yes! your brother, I see, has great views concerning this house. O Frederica, I came in such a melancholy mood!--Your gaudy dress, and all this superb furniture, cast such a gloom over my mind.
Fred.You removed? And, when he robs my heart of all that is dear to it, he sends me satin and tinsel, and hopes by that to bribe me. What a mean opinion he must entertain of me! and how I dislike him!
Gern.Frederica, what is to become of me! When we shall be at so great a distance from each other; when, in obedience to my official duties, I must fly over hill and valley, your picture in my mind, and my heart beating only for you, the image of the poor huntsman will soon be effaced by the splendid objects with which you are going to be dazzled.
Fred.No! and away with the first temptation they have prepared for me; help me to pack up these things; they shall be returned this minute. (Takes the satin, Gernau helps her to fold it up, and they carry it to the box; she kneels down to put the gown in, whilst he holds the other end; he stoops and looks in the box, and then says,)
Gern.What is that?
Fred.(holding up the gown?) What?
Gern.A pocket-book!
Fred.Put it down. All shall go. I will keep nothing.
Gern.What paper is that, that sticks out there?
Fred.Take it.
Gern.(Pulls out a note.) That is not your brother's hand.
Fred.I have not yet seen that pocket-book.
Gern.Oh, very likely! (Reads.) "These dresses are destined to envelope the angel I adore; accept them as a small token of my sincere affections.Selling."--Take, for my last adieu, contempt, thou faithless perfidious girl! (Throws the pocket-book at her feet, and flies off.)
Fred.Gernau!
Enter MasterClarenbach.
Clar.What is the matter here?
Fred.Stop him!
Gern.Leave me!--
Clar.(lays hold of him.) Well, stop a moment! What is it? What, (looks round,) good heaven, what is all this!
Fred.My brother!--
Gern.(shoving the box towards him.) Counsellor Selling!
Clar.Where is my furniture? who had the impudence? who has permitted it? Girl, daughter, Frederica! where was you when all this was done? where is my furniture, my furniture? What are your intentions, people? (looking at the box.) What is that, what is it?
Gern.Counsellor Selling's livery.
Fred.An incomprehensible present for me.
Clar.Pack up; lay hold; each of you a piece; carry it into the passage! Ere night all shall be packed up, and packed off too. (All take a piece of furniture, Gernau takes the band-box.) Stop, stop! each two pieces! take up--(whilst they are each taking two pieces, he discovers the easy chair, and shoves it into the middle of the room.) So thou art here yet, old friend! that is right! (lifts up both his arms.) You are the capital of my rank in life; (giving a knock against the chair,) and thou art the land-mark to point out how far I should extend the use of that capital. Away with the rest! away, I say! (They carry off the furniture.)
The Aulic CounsellorReissman's House.
EnterReissman, with hat and cane.
Reiss.Not here neither? (Rings the bell.) Where then can she be,--my young lady, my daughter?
EnterServant.
Reiss.Where is my daughter?
Serv.In the garden.
Reiss.Run and tell her to come directly.
Serv.(exit.) Now it is done, (walking up and down pleased.) Now it is right, and--(stops suddenly,) but that perverse old-fashioned fellow, with his pious lamentations--Pshaw! my intended son-in-law must manage him, and that quickly too, or he shall not have the girl. He is in love with her and the money,--a twofold inducement! He is in my hand, because his conscience is not altogether free,--a triple security!
EnterSophia.
Soph.You have ordered--
Reiss.I congratulate you, my dear daughter, on your approaching nuptials with the Privy Counsellor. The suit is won; the bequest is confirmed; the money is mine;Victoria!
Soph.(coldly.) So?
Reiss.Yes, truly! Well, what does my dear child say?
Soph.You have carried off the prize.
Reiss.Yes! that is what I have just said.
Soph.Then you have attained your wish.
Reiss.Attained your wish! Is that a reply, when 10,000 pounds have fallen to my lot? Is that the behaviour of a daughter to her father on so happy an occasion.
Soph.Dear father, will not you permit me to reflect a little on those that have lost that immense sum.
Reiss.They are entire strangers to us both, no way related to us.
Soph.The legacy was left by a stranger too.
Reiss.And now it is mine; and if thou wilt not rejoice with me--
Soph.Excuse me, I cannot.
Reiss.Then I will call in persons from the street, that they may share my pleasure. (Pauses.) Speak, unnatural child, and rejoice!
Soph.I am silent, I do not wish to offend you, I love you with all the tenderness of a dutiful child.
Reiss.Would I had a son that knew how to place a due value on this, to enjoy it, to double it, then it would be worth while! But now, when I wish to enjoy the result of all my plans, and the successes I have met with in all my life, I have your sentimental feelings to encounter; and then I would rather relate my happiness to one of the ever-green pyramids in the garden than to you.
Soph.O heaven!
Reiss.And who is to reap the benefit but you, and you only? When I am gone, you may settle annuities upon all the beggars of the country, travel through the rugged mountains, waste my dear wealth in cottages, and scatter hard dollars like pebbles.
Soph.Give me but a sufficient allowance, restore the remainder to Brunnig's children, and I will thank you on my knees.
Reiss.Indeed! Aye, if I were to give you the money and the bond, to divide among those brats, it would make a nice anecdote in the newspapers. Zounds! I am apt to think, that, when you come to the possession of all my property, you will scarce do so much as to erect a small monument to the memory of your father.
Soph.Alas! Brunnig's children would form the fittest groupe of weeping orphans around such a monument.
Reiss.Ungrateful wretch! is this the return for my parental affection? Was it not through the view of gaining this legacy that I raised a deputy to the rank of a privy counsellor? Who is my wealth to devolve to but you and him?
Enter Privy CounsellorClarenbach.
Reiss.There he is! Thanks, my hearty thanks for the dispatch! That is what I call business. That is what I call a specimen of a useful son-in-law.--Now Miss may fix the happy day. She will tell us more about it at dinner, I will step down to the cellar, and take care that we shall have the best it can afford. We will pour liquid gold down our throats to solemnize the acquisition of solid gold.
[Exit.
Sophia, Privy CounsellorClarenbach.
Sophia wipes her eyes.
P. Coun.(after a pause.) Why does my dear Sophia weep?
Soph.My father is pleased with you.
P. Coun.I see I am the cause of your grief.
Soph.Does your conscience tell you so?
P. Coun.Your tears do.
Soph.(after a pause.) Well, then, answer my tears. P, Coun. (shrugs up his shoulders.) The dead letter has decided in this business, as it does in many more, where our feelings would decide in a different manner, but dare not.
Soph.And dare not!--Further--
P. Coun.Further it fills me with the deepest distress to see my Sophia thus distressed. I am not to blame. I would give any thing to alter the circumstance.
Soph.Any thing?--do not be offended at this question. It conveys no doubt. It contains my firmest confidence in the heart of the man to whom I am going to tender mine,--to whom I have tendered it already. Yes, Clarenbach, I do not conceal it from you; I could not leave you without giving myself up to those tears.
P. Coun.Sophia, my angel! the promised companion of my life, my guardian angel, the most precious gift of providence! How dare I presume to merit your partiality? No! I shall never be able to merit you. Such purity and goodness of mind! how can I convince you of the sincerity of my esteem?
Soph.Clarenbach!
P. Coun.(takes her by the hand.) Sophia!
Soph.A wife has many duties to discharge. And I must tell you before hand, I shall never content myself merely to be your wife, unless I am able to influence you and your actions.
P. Coun.To bless those for whom I am to act.
Soph.But what will be my powers over you? I know the first generous impulse of your heart is always good; but then ambition,--let me speak truth to you,--avarice, the offspring of ambition, leads you astray, and contaminates the source of your first feelings.
P. Coun.(looks aside?) It is so! (after a pause?) Love will buoy me up.
Soph.I shall crave little for myself; but in a just cause I shall at all times insist upon having every thing entire. I shall not relent; the man of my heart must act in full; his actions and motives must appear as clear before the eye of the world as they do in the eye of heaven.--Now the question is, will you, on these conditions, give me your hand? Answer me?
P. Coun.(drops at his feet.) Sophia!
Soph.Rise! I expect no answer from love, but from your conviction. Try your own self. The answer, which you are to give me now, is more than that which you are to give at the foot of the altar; there we are to exchange vows, and all will be settled; but here,--by ourselves,--no witnesses but ourselves,--here, where nothing influences us but the sentiment of future happiness or sorrow, which we create to ourselves, and our eternal responsibility, which, at every motion of the pulse, admonishes us with increased force:--to speak truth,--here we are to unite our hearts for ever,--or separate. Once more then I repeat, on different conditions I will not accept your hand; am I your choice on these conditions!
P. Coun.Yes, yes, yes! Do not you read in my eyes that I understand you, that I look up to you as the source of future bliss; that I repent the past; that with candour and faith, from the bottom of my heart, in this delightful solemn moment, I crave your hand, and feel myself quite happy.
Soph.Well my friend, my dear, my beloved friend! I give credit to all you say, and feel unspeakably happy; even your failings lie on the road to rare perfections, and I vow to heaven that I hope those failings will soon vanish.
P. Coun.You open to me the prospect of paridisic futurity. I shall be active in the promoting the benefit of my country, and rise superior to dirty, narrow, selfish views! recompensed by your approbation, your joys, and sometimes by your tears. Your gentle hand shall reach me the petitions of the wretched, the widow, and the orphan,--and my abilities shall be called forth in their behalf. O Sophia! our wedding day shall long be remembered by the cottagers; every face shall beam with smiles.
Soph.May it be so! may we, hand in hand, conduct our vows pure to the altar, that we may become securities to each other for our future happiness. In virtue of your solemn promise, and as your bride, I lay down two conditions previous to our union; if you assent, I will be your wife, not otherwise.
P. Coun.Speak, that I may have an opportunity to thank you; to promise and perform.
Soph.The first is, that my father, convinced by you, shall instantly? resign the legacy into the hands that ought to receive it.--O Clarenbach! here the daughter must remain silent, and your conviction must finish what would rend my heart! (Privy Counsellor claps his hand together.--Sophia continues after a pause.) The second condition is, that, as I feel I demand much, though convinced I could demand no less,--you shall shorten that state of uncertainty, and by three o'clock this afternoon bring me an answer on that subject. You are not to bring it here; but to the place which this paper (taking out of her pocket a sealed paper) points out. You must not open it till five minutes before three. Pledge me your hand.
P. Coun.(pressing her hand.) My word of honour!
Soph.(after a pause, during which she has been gazing on him with tenderness, utters in a steady tone,) Adieu, (going,) my friend!
P. Coun.(without parting with her hand.) O Sophia, Sophia! what have you demanded!
Soph.(having gently disengaged her hand.) The Chief Judge of my country cannot wish to give me the hand which signed the deed that robs orphans of their right! And, if he thinks he has performed his duty as a judge, let him blush as a man, if he means to conduct me and the spoil at one and the same time to his house. If the man, whom I and the people honour, cannot feel so, the sentiment of my own worth will teach me how to forget him.
[Exit.
P. Coun.Sophia,--girl,--soul, to which I know no equal! thou hast raised and again precipitated me to the deepest abyss. You shewed me a glimpse of heaven, and then veiled the bright view from my enraptured sight. Noble, kind, cruel girl! Oh, I could weep as I did in the first impression of love! (throws himself in a chair.) I could weep virtuous tears! Oh! what now am I, what do I now feel! O the power of pure love!--without thee I cannot exist. (Starts up.) Sophia! better being! forget the past, build thy requests upon the future; they commit murder on thy father and me! (Going, meets Counsellor Wellenberg at the door.)
Privy CounsellorClarenbach, CounsellorWellenberg.
Well.Most honoured Sir.
P. Coun.What is your pleasure, Sir?
Well.I am forced, by necessity, to go in quest of you, Sir; the suit of the poor orphans--
P. Coun.Is determined; the will is confirmed.
Well.I know. (Pulls out a paper.) This is the decree. The oftener I peruse it, and the longer I consider it, the more it resembles a poor chest forced open, beat to pieces, and in the end carried off.
P. Coun.You grow impertinent, Sir.
Well.No, most honoured Sir! but I am filled with spirit and courage, like an old trusty servant, armed with perseverance and justice in the cause of the orphan, which calls aloud to heaven for redress. That I am, and that you will find me.
P. Coun.Do you intend to appeal?
Well.Yes, I do, indeed.
P. Coun.Well, do so, and leave me.
Well.No, no; I will not leave you. I appeal to you, most honoured Sir, notqua judex, butqua homo,qua homo, who believes in the day of judgment, and, at the sound of the last trump, would wish to be called to the right; not to be left among the damned, where many an Aulic Counsellor will be found, I am afraid.
P. Coun.I honour the feelings that animate you, Sir; but they are foreign to the affair. Appeal in form, at--
Well.To avoid allreplicas,duplicas,et fatalia, that may delay and put off the cause, I will put you anargumentum, that,eo ipso, shall invalidate your sentence, and re-instate the poor children in their right, assigned to them by God and justice.
P. Coun.(pauses.) Are you possessed of such an argument? (With surprise.) It will be welcome.
Well.Indeed! what you should call truly welcome?--
P. Coun.By heaven, very welcome!
Well.Then give me the embrace of a good man, (Privy Counsellor goes to embrace him,) without touching my hands, which at this present time labour under thechiragra. (Embraces him.) So our town has doubted your humanity, and been of opinion that it is detained as a prisoner in a gold purse.--You blush;--well, that for a Privy Counsellor is a good sign; I will circulate it among the multitude. Now myargumentumis, that--
Enter Aulic CounsellorReissman.
Reiss.Ay, see there our old honest friend Wellenberg. (Shakes him by the hand.)
Well.Oh!--oh dear, oh dear! that God--
Reiss.What is the matter?
Well.(puts one hand in his bosom.)Quoad, old and honest? Yes,Quoad, friend?--Thestatus amicitiæcase cannot exist; for, if that were the case, you ought to have known that I am afflicted with thechiragra, and not to have squeezed my hands so as to make me cry out in such harsh tones, for which I ought to crave, and do crave, pardon of my most honoured Sir.
P. Coun.A particular circumstance has taken place. The gentleman thinks he has found an argument that will invalidate the sentence pronounced in the cause of the disputed legatees, and re-instate the heirs of Brunnig in that property.
Reiss.What?
Well.Yes, it is so. Doctor Kannenfeld, namely, has been visited by heaven with a severe fit of illness, and brought near the gates of death. Moved by the exhortations of his spiritual director, he sent for me to attend, and, amidst tears and groans, confessed that he has deprived the children of their lawful property--
P. Coun.What is that?
Reiss.(frightened.) How?
Well.Being, by a certainquidam, whom the finger of heaven, whilst we are here speaking about the matter, has severely touched, persuaded, and bribed, partly to conceal, and even partly to deny the insanity of the testatrix, at the time when the will was made, which robs the true heirs of their due.
P. Coun.(in a low voice.) My God! (Pauses.)
Well.It is so.
Reiss.(embarrassed) Is Doctor Kannenfeld ill? Ay, ay?
Well.He is very ill. He has stated and deposed all the particulars concerning the certainquidam.
Reiss.Well,--and,--
Well.Ay, if I were in your stead, I would say to myself, "True, I have won the cause, but I will not keep what is not mine;" your conscience then would applaud you, and your fellow-citizens would esteem you; you would find consolation under every affliction, and when the cold hand of death had arrested almost every faculty, and benumbed almost every sense, your soul would look up with trembling confidence to heaven. The poor orphans would gather round your dying bed, and weep for their second father. Thus speaks old Wallenberg, gentlemen, whose life has been spent in settling the disputes of this world according to the mild precepts of christianity, a religion that at once consults our happiness here and hereafter.
[Exit.
P. Coun.(to Reissman.) For heaven's sake!
Reiss.Poh! no matter, (Calls after Wellenberg.) Mr. Wellenberg!
Well.(turns round, without however coming back.) Well?Pœnitet me?
Reiss.What ails Dr. Kannenfeld?
Well.A burning fever.
Reiss.So? Ho ho! A burning fever!--ha, ha, ha! old gentleman!--and his intellects? When a man lies in a raging fever, and denounces honest people, what credit ought to be attached to it?
Well.In lucidis intervallis?
Reiss.Burning fever is only another word for madness; the denunciations of a madman is valid only with madmen.
Well.Shall I take them in the presence of witnesses? Shall the faculty make an affidavit of the state of his mind?
Reiss.Do as you please.
Well.And should he die and leave such a deposition?
Reiss.Then it is the deposition of a madman.
Well.Hem! (musing.) And if, aided by all the courts, I were to put you to an oath concerning the foul means you employed to get that will made in your favour--
Reiss.What then?
Well.Then you will--
P. Coun.It is a disagreeable affair I see; and Mr. Reissman has already declared that at all events he was disposed, through mere benevolence, to give up part of the legacy.
Reiss.What?
Well.What he means to do, let him do in full, and not by halves.
Reiss.Nothing; not a single penny! as you want to compel me, not a single penny! Your sick madman is a calumniator, and so--
Well.Vera laus est laudari a viro laudato.
Reiss.Now, do not rouze my passion, but get you gone. In writing, do as you think proper; I shall know what to do on my side.
Well.Fiat!--Then I will set to work, that the judgment of God may be made manifest on the unjust.
[Exit.
Privy CounsellorClarenbach, Aulic CounsellorReissman.
P. Coun.(confused.) Sir, you see me go perplexed--
Reiss.Do not you talk, you have spoiled all.
P. Coun.I will run after him.
Reiss.You shall not, Sir.
P. Coun.You are undone.
Reiss.Who says so?
P. Coun.God forbid you should take the oath.
Reiss.Instead of standing there by the side of that insect of the law, like a scholar that has received a wrap over his knuckles, you ought to have thundered him down with the voice of a judge, with influence and authority.
P. Coun.But I knew nothing of those shocking circumstances before.
Reiss.Hem! As if there was any difference between persuading a foolish woman to make a will, or getting a fellow that is half mad to draw it up. The former, however, you have supposed to be the case, and yet your morality sustained no shock.
P. Coun.But the oath?--
Reiss.Your pretended delicacy of conscience revolts at it; the mere cowardice of a boy. Who are you, that now takes the part of conscience against me? Are you a better man than I?
P. Coun.Whose work is it?
Reiss.You are a greater coward, but not the better man. Do not presume to raise yourself an inch above me. You have sold both right and bread.
P. Coun.Sir, the pupil may yet recede.
Reiss.If the master will let him; but the master holds him in his hand. If he recedes, mind that he must shrink into his original insignificance. He must hide from this world, for I--I shall not fall alone. If I fall, the ground around shall tremble! Do you take me?
P. Coun.Horrid and abominable!
Reiss.Perhaps you imagine, that I have transformed the carpenter's son into a privy counsellor, merely for the sake of having him for a son-in-law? or because you are master of a tolerable good stile? No, you shall serve me, because you are both good enough and bad enough for the purpose.
P. Coun.But I will not, I will not! I say, with all the resolution, with all the exertion of every one of those good feelings which you would sear and benumb.
Reiss.Too late. You are so entangled, that you can neither advance nor recede. You are fixed where I have placed you.--Thus much for the present. Now leave me in my native good humour. As to the old lawyer, I can soon manage him, never fear--Get the better of your squeamish conscience, and come to dinner.
P. Coun.I cannot.
Reiss.I desire it,--I insist upon it.
Enter CounsellorSelling.
Sell.Miss has sent me up;--dinner is on the table.
Reiss.Come, gentlemen.
Sell.You have won the day.
Reiss.Undoubtedly.
Sell.I wish you joy.
Reiss.Now here is the Privy Counsellor, who puzzles his head about some talk concerning the will.
Sell.Ah, that should not puzzle me.
Reiss.Beati possidentes!Either, or--
P. Coun.Or!---there is the rub.
EnterMaster Clarenbach.
Clar.With your permission, gentlemen, I want to speak with my son.
Reiss.By yourselves?
Clar.Hem!--I should think so!
Reiss.Well, then do not let us wait long. (to the Privy Counsellor, half audible.) You have understood, me sufficiently, I think.--Servant, Master Clarenbach. Come along, Counsellor.
[Exeunt.
Privy Counsellor,Master Clarenbach.
Clar.I must come to you once more;--have you seen old Wellenberg?
P. Coun.Yes.
Clar.Well, what do you say about it?
P. Coun.I am shocked.
Clar.Thank God! What do you mean to do?
P. Coun.Alas! what can I do?
Clar.Jack, your honour is already in great arrears with our town, and your conscience does not altogether keep a fair day-book. I ask you, in the name of God, what do you mean to do?
P. Coun.All I can, father!
Clar.If you are in earnest, come along with me; let us go from hence.
P. Coun.Why so soon,--and whither?
Clar.Fly, fly from the brink of destruction. You must not dine here, you must not remain here any longer. You must not marry into this family.
P. Coun.The girl is my good genius. I cannot leave her.
Clar.Then her father, that bad genius, will not leave you! Do not struggle between the two. Come along with me; do as you ought; be afraid of no man, confide in God, and hope! You will have the girl at last. Come along with me.
P. Coun.I wish I could! were I not at once rivetted down here by the demon of evil, and irresistibly bid to stay by the power of virtue!
Clar.Jack, dear Jack, my son, do not send me away without you; come along with me.
P. Coun.I cannot; you see I cannot.
Clar.God have mercy on thee! thou art undone!
P. Coun.It may be. I am undone whether I stay or go. And so I will stay and strive, and see what I can yet retrieve of my honour.
Clar.How can you save the honour of your situation in life, if the honour of your heart be lost, and that must be lost among these people?--You have removed honest Gernau, because he acts up to his duty.--Your sister weeps bitterly,--the town despises you;--I have not yet frowned on you. and will not do so now, because I pity you. But I will leave this town, and take shelter with honest Gernau, who is to be my son-in-law.
P. Coun.You will leave this town?
Clar.I do not wish it. I shall, with tears, leave my timber-yard and the work which hitherto I have carried on with pleasure and success. But as there is no remedy to save you from destruction, I must go. I cannot witness it.
P. Coun.Is it my fault, if--
Clar.Your faults are many and great; your native town knows them, and despises you. I cannot see you lowered thus, Jack. It has not been in my power to make a great man of you, but I have educated you to be an honest man. I have taken care of the tree, while young, and now it is grown up, one branch decays after the other. And if it must be so, that no green sprig shall henceforth flourish, then I will turn my eyes from it, visit it no more, nor live on the spot where the withered stem, that I am so fond of, shall fall.
P. Coun.Father!
Clar.I cannot weep; but I feel myself very ill on your account. Enter a Servant.
Serv.The company is waiting for the Privy Counsellor.
P. Coun.I am coming.
[Exit Servant.
Clar.Dear son, do not let me go without you. Behold! you may still go with me as half a good man; we will all strive to mend the other bad half.--Have pity on yourself and me; you stand, upon my word, on the spot where the road divides,--the bad people in there, and here your old father. They hold out to you good and high life; I offer you peace and happiness.--For God's sake, Jack, follow me!
P. Coun.(embraces him.) I cannot do that; but I vow to you I will yet do much.
Clar.That is a good word, and no more. Farewell, I will set off.--I shall not see you again. Once more give me your hand.
P. Coun.No, I shall not do that. I will not part with you in this manner.
Clar.It is best so;--it shakes my whole frame,--and my daughter has likewise a claim on my life! Come then once more to this heart, that once delighted in you.--(Embraces him.)
P. Coun.Father!--
Clar.You weep over yourself! God! that it should come to this!--Now farewell; I forgive thee, and so does thy sister. May God take thy wealth from thee, that thou mayest amend, and sometime leave this world in peace!--Farewell! (Attempts to go.)
Enter Aulic CounsellorReissman.
Reiss.Well, we are waiting.
Clar.(pulling his son towards him.) You would take him away from me,--tear him out of my arms,--drag him away!--he is my son, and no father will tamely suffer his son to precipitate himself into perdition. Jack, I will not leave thee, I will not yield thee up!--Thou art mine, nature and thy heart have closely interwoven us together; wilt thou, of thy own accord, leave me?
P. Coun.(throws his arms round him.) No, I cannot;--I will follow you hence!
Clar.God be praised, my son is saved!
[Exeunt arm in arm.--Reissman follows them a few steps, sets his arms a-kembow, and looks after them.
Aulic Counsellor Reissman's, the same room as in the preceding act.
Aulic CounsellorReissmanenters in a passion;Sophiafollows.
Reiss.Not a word, not a word more, not a single syllable of that silly fool! What, to leave me and you, as if we were infected with the plague and breathed contagion? I cannot bear the affront, it shall not go unavenged. I had rather die a thousand deaths.
Soph.Was it not his father that desired him to go with him? and you know he ought to obey him.
Reiss.Who am I, and what is his father? Do not name him any more in my hearing; you must not see him any more, nor even think of him. That petty Privy Counsellor is now dead and buried to me.
Soph.By your advice I listened to his addresses.
Reiss.Forget him then by my command.
Enter Servant.
Serv.Grobman, the ironmonger.
Reiss.Very well, very well; shew him in.
[Exit Servant.
Reiss.(to Sophia.) You may retire, go!
Soph.Your commands.
[Exit.
Reiss.Fie upon him! a creature that I raised from obscurity!--a fellow, who eight years ago was a petty fogger, whom I have raised to the rank of a Privy Counseller!--I was a fool when I did so;--such a fellow soar over my head! (Stamps with his foot.) I would sooner see the whole frame of nature dissolve. I will not lose sight of my object; I will proceed with spirit and caution. I have raised the useless pile, I will pull it down again.
EnterGrobman.
Reiss.(calm and friendly.) What is your pleasure, dear Mr.----?
Grob.Benniger has obtained the monopoly.
Reiss.You do not say so, do you? Grab. The Privy Counsellor is to procure it for 2300 dollars, which sum is to be paid this afternoon.
Reiss.Impossible!
Grob.It is but too true. The money is to be paid to Counsellor Selling.
Reiss.(confidentially.) I must tell you that Selling has already mentioned something to me about it. The young man's conscience is alarmed. He does not like to lend a hand in those sort of things. But I would not believe it.
Grob.It is but too certain.
Reiss.O Lord! who could think any thing like it of such a man? that is mean, that is--that must not be permitted. Ay, ay! and the minister prefers such a man, reposes confidence in him, because men, like me, take him by the hand. They think, because such a man is of a low extraction, he must have the interest of the lower class at heart. And then he will betray and sell the state!
Grob.As an inhabitant, I ought to have the preference to a stranger.
Reiss.Most undoubtedly.
Grob.I am very willing to go to some expence too, only--
Reiss.Not a single penny; God forbid I should be guilty of such a sin! That contract with Benniger must be annulled.
Grob.If that were possible, I would with all my heart--
Reiss.Ay, it must be so. I am very intimate with the Privy Counsellor. He was to have my daughter; but I will never give her to a man like him. You must furnish me immediately with a plea, in which you must develope the whole transaction.
Grob.Good God! the Privy Counsellor!
Reiss.I give you my word and hand, as an honest man, I will run all the consequences. In such a case one is in conscience bound; only let me have the declaration immediately. I will manage in such a manner that the Privy Counsellor shall come off with tolerable good credit.
Grob.If you will do that--
Reiss.Yes, yes, yes!
Grob.But Counsellor Selling--
Reiss.Is a young man;--out of fear of displeasing the Privy Counsellor, he has lent his aid. Such a young man may yet be taught in time. That is my principal object.
Grob.Well, the declaration shall be drawn up without delay. Heaven bless you, dear Sir, for thus taking the part of a poor fellow-townsman!
[Exit.
Reiss.My duty, my duty!--Bravo, little Selling, that is prettily managed!
Enter CounsellorSelling.
Sell.Old Wellenberg wishes to call on you.
Reiss.Has he taken any steps yet with the Doctor, concerning the mad patient?
Sell.No, the Doctor is breathing his last.
Reiss.If God should call him off, the calumniator will escape a very serious action in this world. Now my claims and the will have been confirmed, I will, of my own accord, make the children a handsome present.
Sell.Very laudable!
Reiss.When is Benniger to bring you the present for the Privy Counsellor?
Sell.Very soon, I expect.
Reiss.Take it, that we may have a proof; then tell Benniger your mind, and open the business to me.
Sell.But; then I fear the Privy Counsellor will take it in dudgeon.
Reiss.The Privy Counsellor! I will silence him with a single look; ask me within a fortnight what the Privy Counsellor says,--ask me then what he is. God! could I ever have dreamt of any such thing, when I was raising and supporting that upstart!
Sell.Everyone is astonished at your condescension and kindness.
Reiss.All disinterestedness! all good-nature! Was I not going to give him my child? but God forbid!--he does not deserve her.
Sell.Every one knows that you are in the highest favour with the Ministry--
Reiss.These many years.--
Sell.That, properly speaking, you govern both the Privy Councilor and the whole country.
Reiss.I know the country and the people.
Sell.To please you, I attached myself to the Privy Counsellor; but his vanity is such that I cannot hold out with him any longer. He has this very day told me that I learned nothing.
Reiss.There we have it.--
Sell.That I did not know my own language; that I made a motion in court so ridiculous the other day, that every one laughed at me; nay, he told me to my face that I attempted to assume an air of importance that I was not entitled to.
Reiss.I am shocked at it, do you know? Your dear father, who is now no more, was a man who--
Sell.Was Privy Counsellor! But that is nothing in his eyes. Such an upstart will press forward, and people of our consequence must render homage not only to him, but even to the carpenter's family.
Reiss.Pray, were not you to marry his sister?
Sell.No, no! yet, in the state of subjection he kept me, he might at last have brought me to it. He would, as he calls it, correct my writings, and then he would, by way of making it up, sometimes nod his head by way of approbation.
Reiss.As I see that the fellow does not deserve what I have done for him, all shall be altered in future: attach yourself to me.
Sell.Good God! I will with both my hands.
Reiss.I will make out the draft for the declaration, in which you are to charge him with having taken a bribe, and also for having constantly forced you to vote as he pleased in the court. I will carry my point; the Prime Minister shall be informed of the whole. Go hence, and I will send you every thing.
Sell.I shall be very glad to get rid of him; but you will assist me occasionally to propose a law too? will you not?
Reiss.By way of practising? oh yes!
Sell.No, a real law, according to which the people are to act, be it ever so trifling,--only that the world may know, that I can frame a law as well as another. I only want it for the sake of the world, and the consequence it will give me.
[Exit.
Reiss.A shallow, shallow, ignorant boy!--but then he may be of use to me.
Enter Privy CounsellorClarenbach.
P. Coun.I have to explain to you, Sir.
Reiss.Just as you like, Sir.
P. Coun.I cannot remain the man, that, God knows how,--I have gradually--
Reiss.I think so myself.
P. Coun.I can be dependent on you no longer; but I do not choose to be ungrateful. Without enquiring into the motives which induced you to raise me, I owe you my grateful thanks for having done so.
Reiss.I am hourly more and more convinced that I ought to have done so.
P. Coun.This sarcastic remark shall not prevent me, as your intended son-in-law, to render you my services from the purest motives and filial zeal, and to endeavour to compromise that disagreeable affair respecting the will.
Reiss.Ay! would you indeed?
P. Coun.If we only consider it as politically pernicious, it--
Reiss.There is nothing pernicious in the whole affair, my affectionate Mr. Privy Counsellor, and your services are quite useless.
P. Coun.I wish they may prove so. Meanwhile you will not misinterpret my intentions.
Reiss.Your intentions go to the future inheritance of my property, my son-in-law that would be.--
P. Coun.Your daughter,--without any inheritance whatever--
Reiss.With or without inheritance, that is all over; you shall not have her.
P. Coun.You may disinherit her, if you please, should I receive her hand against your will; but your daughter is mine according to your promise, and you can shew no cause for breaking it.
Reiss.(coldly.) Oh yes!
P. Coun.What? which?
Reiss.Some other time.
P. Coun.When? I desire to know it. I desire it, I tell you.
Reiss.You shall soon know it if you are in such a hurry.--I am now busy.
P. Coun.Sir, if Sophia were not your daughter--
Reiss.Ah, that is the thing. Go, your papa is waiting for you:--if you stay, he will come and take you away.
P. Coun.Sir!
Reiss.And come to save you too. Has not he saved you once already this very day?--
P. Coun.Yes, he has that, honest man! May heaven reward him for it!
Reiss.He may perhaps save you once more yet, and perhaps not.--Meanwhile, give yourself no farther trouble to call here. Your servant, Sir.
P. Coun.(looks at his watch.) You distress me more than you know. If that can give you pleasure, enjoy it.
[Exit.
Reiss.(looking after him.) Hem! I ought to have discovered at first sight that the fellow is not fit for my purpose; he is simple enough to be in love in right earnest.--My foolish daughter loves him too; she fans his hopes, so of course he will not injure me, when cashiered. The Doctor is falling asleep, and the Lawyer,---hem!--must likewise be sent to rest,--else I shall have no rest myself!
[Exit.
Master Clarenbach's house.
MasterClarenbach,Frederica, andGernau, busy with bringing in the furniture seen in the first Act.
Clar.Courage, my dear children! about it! Thank God, we have got rid of that fashionable trumpery. Set the table again there in its place.-- So!---how glad I am to behold my old friends again!
Fred.We shall have a comfortable repast on that table to night.
Clar.As Jack is to be one of the party, O yes!
Gern.I hope his change is right earnest; but I can scarcely believe it.
Clar.No reflections, dear Gernau! What is past ought to be forgotten.
Gern.But I must remove hence for all that.
Clar.Why, perhaps not. Jack will now employ his power to some good purpose.
Fred.I wonder where he stays so long.
Clar.He is dissolving the partnership of sin with Reissman.
Gern.I wish it may be done in writing.
Clar.I have insisted on his having a conversation with him.
EnterSophia.
Clar.Whom have I the honour to--(Bows, and all the rest rise.)
Soph.Without ceremony, my friends,
Fred.It is Miss Reissman, father!
Soph.Give me leave to wait for your son, Sir, who is to introduce me to your acquaintance, (To Frederica.) We have seen one another already.
Clar.Miss Reissman? So--(with a smile.) The daughter of Mr.----; do not take it amiss.
Soph.What?
Fred.Father, let it rest there.
Clar.Yes, yes! We do not like to mention any thing about it. You, you are welcome wherever you go; and so you are to me, God knows! Sit down here near an old man, if you have no objection. (Gern. reaches her a chair.)
Soph.I know how to value the honour of this seat.
Clar.You have a good opinion of my son.
Soph.Yes, good Sir.
Clar.He is rather in an odd predicament to day; but I hope things will take a better turn.
Soph.I sincerely hope so, good father.