PRINCE WILLIAM.O Christ, disgraced, insulted! Horrible man,Remembered be your laugh in lowest hell,Dragging you to the nether pit! Forgive me;You are my friend—take me from here—unboltThose iron doors—I'll crawl upon my kneesUnto my father—I have much to tell him.For but the freedom of one hour, sweet Prior,I'll brim the vessels of the Church with gold.
PRIOR.Boy! your bribes touch not, nor your curses shakeThe minister of Christ. Yet I will bearYour message to the Landgrave.
PRINCE WILLIAM.Whet your tongueKeen as the archangel's blade of truth—your voiceBe as God's thunder, and your heart one blaze—Then can you speak my cause. With me, it needsNo plausive gift; the smitten head, stopped throat,Blind eyes and silent suppliance of sorrowPersuade beyond all eloquence. Great God!Here while I rage and beat against my bars,The infernal fagots may be stacked for her,The hell-spark kindled. Go to him, dear Prior,Speak to him gently, be not too much moved,'Neath its rude case you had ever a soft heart,And he is stirred by mildness more than passion.Recall to him her round, clear, ardent eyes,The shower of sunshine that's her hair, the sheenOf the cream-white flesh—shall these things serve as fuel?Tell him that when she heard once he was wounded,And how he bled and anguished; at the taleShe wept for pity.
PRIOR.If her love be trueShe will adore her lover's God, embraceThe faith that marries you in life and death.This promise with the Landgrave would prevailMore than all sobs and pleadings.
PRINCE WILLIAM.Save her, save her!If any promise, vow, or oath can serve.Oh trusting, tranquil Susskind, who estoppedYour ears forewarned, bandaged your visioned eyes,To woo destruction! Stay! did he not speakOf amulet or talisman? These horrorsHave crowded out my wits. Yea, the gold casket!What fixed serenity beamed from his brow,Laying the precious box within my hands![He brings from the shelf the casket, and hands it to the Prior.]Deliver this unto the Prince my father,Nor lose one vital moment. What it holds,I guess not—but my light heart whispers meThe jewel safety's locked beneath its lid.
PRIOR.First I must foil such devil's tricks as lurkIn its gem-crusted cabinet.
PRINCE WILLIAM.Away!Deliverance posts on your return. I feel it.For your much comfort thanks. Good-night.
PRIOR.Good-night.[Exit.]
A cell in the Wartburg Monastery. Enter PRIOR PEPPERCORN withthe casket.
PRIOR.So! Glittering shell where doubtless shines concealedAn orient treasure fit to bribe a king,Ransom a prince and buy him for a son.I have baptized thee now before the altar,Effaced the Jew's contaminating touch,And I am free to claim the Church's titheFrom thy receptacle.[He is about to unlock the casket, when enters Lay-Brother, and hehastily conceals it.]
LAY-BROTHER.Peace be thine, father!
PRIOR.Amen! and thine. What's new?
LAY-BROTHER.A strange FlagellantFresh come to Wartburg craves a word with thee.
PRIOR.Bid him within.[Exit Lay-Brother.PRIOR places the casket in a Cabinet.]Patience! No hour of the dayBrings freedom to the priest.Reenter Lay-Brother ushering in NORDMANN, and exit.Brother, all hail!Blessed be thou who comest in God's name!
NORDMANN.May the Lord grant thee thine own prayer fourfold!
PRIOR.What is thine errand?
NORDMANN.Look at me, my father.Long since you called me friend.[The PRIOR looks at him attentively, while an expression of wonderand terror gradually overspreads his face.]
PRIOR.Almighty God!The grave gives up her dead. Thou canst not be—
NORDMANN.Nordmann of Nordmannstein, the Knight of Treffurt.
PRIOR.He was beheaded years agone.
NORDMANN.His deathHad been decreed, but in his stead a squireClad in his garb and masked, paid bloody forfeit.A loyal wretch on whom the Prince wreaked vengeance,Rather than publish the true bird had flown.
PRIOR.Does Frederick know thou art in Eisenach?
NORDMANN.Who would divine the Knight of NordmannsteinIn the Flagellants' weeds? From land to land,From town to town, we cry, "Death to the Jews!Hep! hep! "Hierosolyma est perdita!"They die like rats; in Gotha they are burned;Two of the devil brutes in Chatelard,Child-murderers, wizards, breeders of the Plague,Had the truth squeezed from them with screws and racks,All with explicit date, place, circumstance,And written as it fell from dying lipsBy scriveners of the law. On their confessionThe Jews of Savoy were destroyed. To-morrow noonThe holy flames shall dance in Nordhausen.
PRIOR.Your zeal bespeaks you fair. In your deep eyesA mystic fervor shines; yet your scarred fleshAnd shrunken limbs denote exhausted nature,Collapsing under discipline.
NORDMANN.Speak notOf the degrading body and its pangs.I am all zeal, all energy, all spirit.Jesus was wroth at me, at all the world,For our indulgence of the flesh, our baseCompounding with his enemies the Jews.But at Madonna Mary's intercession,He charged an angel with this gracious word,"Whoso will scourge himself for forty days,And labor towards the clean exterminationOf earth's corrupting vermin, shall be saved."Oh, what vast peace this message brought my soul!I have learned to love the ecstasy of pain.When the sweat stands upon my flesh, the bloodThrobs in my bursting veins, my twisted musclesAre cramped with agony, I seem to crawlAnigh his feet who suffered on the Cross.
PRIOR.O all transforming Time! Can this be he,The iron warrior of a decade since,The gallant youth of earlier years, whose pranksAnd reckless buoyancy of temper flashedClear sunshine through my gloom?
NORDMANN.I am unchanged(Save that the spirit of grace has fallen on me).Urged by one motive through these banished years,Fed by one hope, awake to realizeOne living dream—my long delayed revenge.You saw the day when Henry Schnetzen's castleWas razed with fire?
PRIOR.I saw it.
NORDMANN.Schnetzen's wife,Three days a mother, perished.
PRIOR.And his child?
NORDMANN.His child was saved.
PRIOR.By whom?
NORDMANN.By the same JewWho had betrayed the Castle.
PRIOR.Susskind von Orb?
NORDMANN.Susskind von Orb! and Schnetzen's daughter livesAs the Jew's child within the Judengasse.
PRIOR (eagerly).What proof hast thou of this?
NORDMANN.Proof of these eyes!I visited von Orb to ask a loan.There saw I such a maiden as no JewWas ever blessed withal since Jesus died.White as a dove, with hair like golden floss,Eyes like an Alpine lake. The haughty lineOf brow imperial, high bridged nose, fine chin,Seemed like the shadow cast upon the wall,Where Lady Schnetzen stood.
PRIOR.Why hast thou ne'erDiscovered her to Schnetzen?
NORDMANN.He was my friend.I shared with him thirst, hunger, sword, and fire.But he became a courtier. When the MargraveSent me his second challenge to the field,His messenger was Schnetzen! 'Mongst his knights,The apple of his eye was Henry Schnetzen.He was the hound that hunted me to death.He stood by Frederick's side when I was led,Bound, to the presence. I denounced him coward,He smote me on the cheek. Christ! it stings yet.He hissed—"My liege, let Henry Nordmann hang!He is no knight, for he receives a blow,Nor dare avenge it!" My gyved wrists moved not,No nerve twitched in my face, although I feltFlame leap there from my heart, then flying back,Leave it cold-bathed with deathly ooze—my soulIn silence took her supreme vow of hate.
PRIOR.Praise be to God that thou hast come to-day.To-morrow were too late. Hast thou not heardFrederick sends Schnetzen unto Nordhausen,With fire and torture for the Jews?
NORDMANN.So! Henry SchnetzenShall be the Jews' destroyer? Ah!
PRIOR.One moment.Mayhap this box which Susskind sends the PrinceReveals more wonders.[He brings forth the Casket from the Cabinet, opens it, anddiscovers a golden cross and a parchment which he hastilyoverlooks.]Hark! your word's confirmedBlessed be Christ, our Lord! (reads)."I Susskind von Orb of Nordhausen, swear by the unutterable Name,that on the day when the Castle of Salza was burned, I rescued theinfant daughter of Henry Schnetzen from the flames. I purposedrestoring her to her father, but when I returned to Nordhausen, Ifound my own child lying on her bier, and my wife in fevered frenzycalling for her babe. I sought the leech, who counselled me toshow the Christian child to the bereaved mother as her own. Thepious trick prevailed; the fever broke, the mother was restored.But never would she part with the child, even when she had learnedto whom it belonged, and until she was gathered with the dead—maypeace be with her soul!—she fostered in our Jewish home theoffspring of the Gentile knight. Then again would I have yieldedthe girl to her parent, but Schnetzen was my foe, and I feared thehaughty baron would disown the daughter who came from the hands ofthe Jew. Now however the maiden's temporal happiness demands thatshe be acknowledged by her rightful father. Let him see what Ihave written. As a token, behold this golden cross, bound by theLady Schnetzen round the infant's neck. May the God of Abraham,Isaac, and Jacob redeem and bless me as I have writ the truth."
PRIOR.I thank the Saints that this has come betimes.Thou shalt renounce thy hate. Vengeance is mine,The Lord hath said.
NORDMANN.O all-transforming Time!Is this meek, saintly-hypocrite, the firm,Ambitious, resolute Reinhard Peppercorn,Terror of Jews and beacon of the Church?Look, you, I have won the special grace of Christ,He knows through what fierce anguish! Now he leansOut of his heaven to whisper in mine ear,And reach me my revenge. He makes my causeHis own—and I shall fail upon these heights,Sink from the level of a hate sublime,To puerile pity!
PRIOR.Be advised. You holdYour enemy's living heart within your hands.This secret is far costlier than you dreamed,For Frederick's son wooes Schnetzen's daughter. See,A hundred delicate springs your wit may move,Your puppets are the Landgrave and the Prince,The Governor of Salza and the Jews.You may recover station, wealth, and honor,Selling your secret shrewdly; while rash greedOf clumsy vengeance may but drag you downIn the wild whirl of universal ruin.
NORDMANN.Christ teach me whom to trust! I would not spillOne drop from out this brimming glorious cupFor which my parched heart pants. I will consider.
PRIOR.Pardon me now, if I break off our talk.Let all rest as it stands until the dawn.I have many orisons before the light.
NORDMANN.Good-night, true friend. Devote a prayer to me.(Aside.) I will outwit you, serpent, though you glideAthwart the dark, noiseless and swift as fate.[Exit].
SCENE II.On the road to Nordhausen. Moonlit, rocky landscape. On theright between high, white cliffs a narrow stream spanned by awooden bridge. Thick bushes and trees. Enter PRINCE WILLIAMand PAGE.
PRINCE WILLIAM.Is this the place where we shall find fresh steeds?Would I had not dismounted!
PAGE.Nay, sir; beyondThe Werra bridge the horses wait for us.These rotten planks would never bear their weight.
PRINCE WILLIAM.When I am Landgrave these things shall be cared for.This is an ugly spot for travellersTo loiter in. How swift the water runs,Brawling above our voices. Human criesWould never reach Liborius' convent yonder,Perched on the sheer, chalk cliff. I think of peril,From my excess of joy. My spirit chafes,She that would breast broad-winged the air, must haltOn stumbling mortal limbs. Look, thither, boy,How the black shadows of the tree-boles stripeThe moon-blanched bridge and meadow.
PAGE.Sir, what's that?Yon stir and glitter in the bush?
PRINCE WILLIAM.The moon,Pricking the dewdrops, plays fantastic tricksWith objects most familiar. Look again,And where thou sawst the steel-blue flicker glint,Thou findst a black, wet leaf.
PAGE.No, no! O God!Your sword, sir! Treason![Four armed masked men leap from out the bush, seize, bind, andovermaster, after a brief but violent resistance, the Prince andhis servant.]
PRINCE WILLIAM.Who are ye, villains? lyingIn murderous ambush for the Prince of Meissen?If you be knights, speak honorably your names,And I will combat you in knightly wise.If ye be robbers, name forthwith your ransom.Let me but speed upon my journey now.By Christ's blood! I beseech you, let me go!Ho! treason! murder! help![He is dragged off struggling. Exeunt omnes.]
SCENE III.Nordhausen. A room in SUSSKIND's house.LIEBHAID and CLAIRE.
LIEBHAID.Say on, poor girl, if but to speak these horrorsRevive not too intense a pang.
CLAIRE.Not so.For all my woes seem here to merge their floodInto a sea of infinite repose.Through France our journey led, as I have told,From desolation unto desolation.Naught stayed my father's course—sword, storm, flame, plague,Exhaustion of the eighty year old frame,O'ertaxed beyond endurance. Once, once only,His divine force succumbed. 'T was at day's close,And all the air was one discouragementOf April snow-flakes. I was drenched, cold, sick,With weariness and hunger light of head,And on the open road, suddenly turnedThe whole world like the spinning flakes of snow.My numb hand slipped from his, and all was blank.His beard, his breath upon my brow, his tearsScalding my cheek hugged close against his breast,And in my ear deep groans awoke me. "God!"I heard him cry, "try me not past my strength.No prophet I, a blind, old dying man!"Gently I drew his face to mine, and kissed,Whispering courage—then his spirit brokeUtterly; shattered were his wits, I feared.But past is past; he is at peace, and IFind shelter from the tempest. Tell me ratherOf your serene life.
LIEBHAID.Happiness is mute.What record speaks of placid, golden days,Matched each with each as twins? Till yester eveMy life was simple as a song. At whilesDark tales have reached us of our people's wrongs,Strange, far-off anguish, furrowing with fresh careMy father's brow, draping our home with gloom.We were still blessed; the Landgrave is his friend—The Prince—my Prince—dear Claire, ask me no more!My adored enemy, my angel-fiend,Splitting my heart against my heart! O God,How shall I pray for strength to love him lessThan mine own soul?
CLAIRE.What mean these contrary words?These passionate tears?
LIEBHAID.Brave girl, who art inuredTo difficult privation and rude pain,What good shall come forswearing kith and God,To follow the allurements of the heart?
CLAIRE.Duty wears one face, but a thousand masks.Thy feet she leads to glittering peaks, while mineShe guides midst brambled roadways. Not the firstArt thou of Israel's women, chosen of God,To rule o'er rulers. I remember meA verse my father often would repeatOut of our sacred Talmud: "Every timeThe sun, moon, stars begin again their course,They hesitate, trembling and filled with shame,Blush at the blasphemous worship offered them,And each time God's voice thunders, crying out,On with your duty!"Enter REUBEN.
REUBEN.Sister, we are lost!The streets are thronged with panic-stricken folk.Wild rumors fill the air. Two of our tribe,Young Mordecai, as I hear, and old Baruch,Seized by the mob, were dragged towards Eisenach,Cruelly used, left to bleed out their lives,In the wayside ditch at night. This morn, betimes,The iron-hearted Governor of SalzaRides furious into Nordhausen; his horse,Spurred past endurance, drops before the gate.The Council has been called to hear him readThe Landgrave's message,—all men say, 'tis deathUnto our race.
LIEBHAID.Where is our father, Reuben?
REUBEN.With Rabbi Jacob. Through the streets they walk,Striving to quell the terror. Ah, too late!Had he but heeded the prophetic voice,This warning angel led to us in vain!
LIEBHAID.Brother, be calm. Man your young heart to frontWhatever ills the Lord afflicts us with.What does Prince William? Hastes he not to aid?
REUBEN.None know his whereabouts. Some say he's heldImprisoned by the Landgrave. Others tellWhile he was posting with deliveranceTo Nordhausen, in bloody Schnetzen's wake,He was set upon by ruffians—kidnapped—killed.What do I know—hid till our ruin's wrought.[LIEBHAID swoons.]
CLAIRE.Hush, foolish boy. See how your rude words hurt.Look up, sweet girl; take comfort.
REUBEN.Pluck up heart:Dear sister, pardon me; he lives, he lives!
LIEBHAID.God help me! Shall my heart crack for love's lossThat meekly bears my people's martyrdom?He lives—I feel it—to live or die with me.I love him as my soul—no more of that.I am all Israel's now—till this cloud pass,I have no thought, no passion, no desire,Save for my people.Enter SUSSKIND.
SUSSKIND.Blessed art thou, my child!This is the darkest hour before the dawn.Thou art the morning-star of Israel.How dear thou art to me—heart of my heart,Mine, mine, all mine to-day! the pious thought,The orient spirit mine, the Jewish soul.The glowing veins that sucked life-nourishmentFrom Hebrew mother's milk. Look at me, Liebhaid,Tell me you love me. Pity me, my God!No fiercer pang than this did Jephthah know.
LIEBHAID.Father, what wild and wandering words are these?Is all hope lost?
SUSSKIND.Nay, God is good to us.I am so well assured the town is safe,That I can weep my private loss—of thee.An ugly dream I had, quits not my sense,That you, made Princess of Thuringia,Forsook your father, and forswore your race.Forgive me, Liebhaid, I am calm again,We must be brave—I who besought my tribeTo bide their fate in Nordhausen, and youWhom God elects for a peculiar lot.With many have I talked; some crouched at home,Some wringing hands about the public ways.I gave all comfort. I am very weary.My children, we had best go in and pray,Solace and safety dwell but in the Lord.[Exeunt.]
SCENE I.The City Hall at Nordhausen. Deputies and Burghers assembling.To the right, at a table near the President's chair, is seatedthe Public Scrivener. Enter DIETRICH VON TETTENBORN, and HENRYSCHNETZEN with an open letter in his hand.
SCHNETZEN.Didst hear the fellow's words who handed it?I asked from whom it came, he spoke by rote,"The pepper bites, the corn is ripe for harvest,I come from Eisenach." 'T is some tedious jest.
TETTENBORN.Doubtless your shrewd friend Prior PeppercornMasks here some warning. Ask the scrivenerTo help us to its contents.
SCHNETZEN (to the clerk).Read me these.
SCRIVENER (reads)."Beware, Lord Henry Schnetzen, of Susskind's lying tongue! He willthrust a cuckoo's egg into your nest.[Signed]ONE WHO KNOWS."
SCHNETZEN.A cuckoo's egg! that riddle puzzles me;But this I know. Schnetzen is no man's dupe,Much less a Jew's.[SCHNETZEN and VON TETTENBORN take their seats side by side.]
TETTENBORN.Knights, counsellors and burghers!Sir Henry Schnetzen, Governor of Salza,Comes on grave mission from His Highness Frederick,Margrave of Meissen, Landgrave of Thuringia,Our town's imperial Patron and Protector.
SCHNETZEN.Gentles, I greet you in the Landgrave's name,The honored bearer of his princely script,Sealed with his signet. Read, good Master Clerk.[He hands a parchment to the Scrivener, who reads aloud]:Lord President and Deputies of the town of Nordhausen! Know thatwe, Frederick Margrave of Meissen, and Landgrave of Thuringia,command to be burned all the Jews within our territories as faras our lands extend, on account of the great crime they havecommitted against Christendom in throwing poison into the wells,of the truth of which indictment we have absolute knowledge.Therefore we admonish you to have the Jews killed in honor ofGod, so that Christendom be not enfeebled by them. Whateverresponsibility you incur, we will assume with our Lord the Emperor,and with all other lords. Know also that we send to you HenrySchnetzen, our Governor of Salza, who shall publicly accuse yourJews of the above-mentioned crime. Therefore we beseech you tohelp him to do justice upon them, and we will singularly rewardyour good will.*Given at Eisenach, the Thursday after St. Walpurgis, under oursecret seal.*This is an authentic document.
A COUNSELLOR (DIETHER VON WERTHER).Fit silence welcomes this unheard-of wrong!So! Ye are men—free, upright, honest men,Not hired assassins? I half doubted it,Seeing you lend these infamous words your ears.
SCHNETZEN.Consider, gentlemen of Nordhausen,Ere ye give heed to the rash partisan.Ye cross the Landgrave—well? he crosses you.It may be I shall ride to Nordhausen,Not with a harmless script, but with a sword,And so denounce the town for perjured vow.What was the Strasburg citizens' rewardWho championed these lost wretches, in the faceOf King and Kaiser—three against the world,Conrad von Winterthur the Burgomaster,Deputy Gosse Sturm, and Peter Schwarber,Master Mechanic? These leagued fools essayedTo stand between the people's sacred wrath,And its doomed object. Well, the Jews, no less,Were rooted from the city neck and crop,And their three friends degraded from their rankI' the city council, glad to save their skins.The Jews are foes to God. Our Holy FatherThunders his ban from Rome against all suchAs aid the poisoners. Your oath to God,And to the Prince enjoins—Death to the Jews.
A BURGHER (REINHARD ROLAPP).Why all this vain debate? The Landgrave's briefAffirms the Jews fling poison in the wells.Shall we stand by and leave them unmolested,Till they have made our town a wilderness?I say, Death to the Jews!
A BURGHER (HUGO SCHULTZ).My lord and brethren,I have scant gift of speech, ye are all my elders.Yet hear me for truth's sake, and liberty's.The Landgrave of Thuringia is our patron,True—and our town's imperial Governor,But are we not free burghers? Shall we notDebate and act in freedom? If Lord SchnetzenWill force our council with the sword—enough!We are not frightened schoolboys crouched beneathThe master's rod, but men who bear the swordAs brave as he. By this grim messenger,Send back this devilish missive. Say to FrederickNordhausen never was enfeoffed to him.Prithee, Lord President, bid Henry SchnetzenWithdraw awhile, that we may all take counsel,According to the hour's necessity,As free men, whom nor fear nor favor swerves.
TETTENBORN.Bold youth, you err. True, Nordhausen is free,And God be witness, we for fear or favor,Would never shed the blood of innocence.But here the Prince condemns the Jews to deathFor capital crime. Who sees a snake must kill,Ere it spit fatal venom. I, too, sayDeath to the Jews
ALL.Death to the Jews! God wills it!
TETTENBORN.Give me your voices in the urn.(The votes are taken.) One voiceFor mercy, all the rest for death. (To an Usher.)Go thouTo the Jews' quarter; bid Susskind von Orb,And Rabbi Jacob hither to the Senate,To hear the Landgrave's and the town's decree.[Exit Usher.](To Schnetzen.) What learn you of this evil through the State?
SCHNETZEN.It swells to monstrous bulk. In many towns,Folk build high ramparts round the wells and springs.In some they shun the treacherous sparkling brooks,To drink dull rain-water, or melted snow,In mountain districts. Frederick has been patient,And too long clement, duped by fleece-cloaked wolves.But now his subjects' clamor rouses himTo front the general peril. As I hear,A fiendish and far-reaching plot involvesAll Christian thrones and peoples. These vile vermin,Burrowing underneath society,Have leagued with Moors in Spain, with hereticsToo plentiful—Christ knows! in every land,And planned a subterraneous, sinuous scheme,To overthrow all Christendom. But see,Where with audacious brows, and steadfast mien,They enter, bold as innocence. Now listen,For we shall hear brave falsehoods.Enter SUSSKIND VON ORB and RABBI JACOB.
TETTENBORN.Rabbi Jacob,And thou, Susskind von Orb, bow down, and learnThe Council's pleasure. You the least despisedBy true believers, and most reverencedBy your own tribe, we grace with our free leaveTo enter, yea, to lift your voices here,Amid these wise and honorable men,If ye find aught to plead, that mitigatesThe just severity of your doom. Our prince,Frederick the Grave, Patron of Nordhausen,Ordains that all the Jews within his lands,For the foul crime of poisoning the wells,Bringing the Black Death upon Christendom,Shall be consumed with flame.
RABBI JACOB (springing forward and clasping his hands).I' the name of God,Your God and ours, have mercy!
SUSSKIND.Noble lords,Burghers, and artisans of Nordhausen,Wise, honorable, just, God-fearing men,Shall ye condemn or ever ye have heard?Sure, one at least owns here the close, kind nameOf Brother—unto him I turn. At leastSome sit among you who have wedded wives,Bear the dear title and the precious chargeOf Husband—unto these I speak. Some here,Are crowned, it may be, with the sacred nameOf Father—unto these I pray. All, allAre sons—all have been children, all have knownThe love of parents—unto these I cry:Have mercy on us, we are innocent,Who are brothers, husbands, fathers, sons as ye!Look you, we have dwelt among you many years,Led thrifty, peaceable, well-ordered lives.Who can attest, who prove we ever wroughtOr ever did devise the smallest harm,Far less this fiendish crime against the State?Rather let those arise who owe the JewsSome debt of unpaid kindness, profuse alms,The Hebrew leech's serviceable skill,Who know our patience under injury,And ye would see, if all stood bravely forth,A motley host, led by the Landgrave's self,Recruited from all ranks, and in the rear,The humblest, veriest wretch in Nordhausen.We know the Black Death is a scourge of God.Is not our flesh as capable of pain,Our blood as quick envenomed as your own?Has the Destroying Angel passed the postsOf Jewish doors—to visit Christian homes?We all are slaves of one tremendous Hour.We drink the waters which our enemies sayWe spoil with poison,—we must breathe, as ye,The universal air,—we droop, faint, sicken,From the same causes to the selfsame end.Ye are not strangers to me, though ye wearGrim masks to-day—lords, knights and citizens,Few do I see whose hand has pressed not mine,In cordial greeting. Dietrich von Tettenborn,If at my death my wealth be confiscateUnto the State, bethink you, lest she proveA harsher creditor than I have been.Stout Meister Rolapp, may you never againLanguish so nigh to death that Simon's artBe needed to restore your lusty limbs.Good Hugo Schultz—ah! be those blessed tearsRemembered unto you in Paradise!Look there, my lords, one of your council weeps,If you be men, why, then an angel sitsOn yonder bench. You have good cause to weep,You who are Christian, and disgraced in thatWhereof you made your boast. I have no tears.A fiery wrath has scorched their source, a voiceShrills through my brain—"Not upon us, on themFall everlasting woe, if this thing be!"
SCHNETZEN.My lords of Nordhausen, shall ye be stunnedWith sounding words? Behold the serpent's skin,Sleek-shining, clear as sunlight; yet his toothHolds deadly poison. Even as the JewsDid nail the Lord of heaven on the Cross,So will they murder all his followers,When once they have the might. Beware, beware!
SUSSKIND.So YOU are the accuser, my lord Schnetzen?Now I confess, before you I am guilty.You are in all this presence, the one manWhom any Jew hath wronged—and I that Jew.Oh, my offence is grievous; punish meWith the utmost rigor of the law, for theftAnd violence, whom ye deemed an honest man,But leave my tribe unharmed! I yield my handsUnto your chains, my body to your fires;Let one life serve for all.
SCHNETZEN.You hear, my lords,How the prevaricating villain shrinksFrom the absolute truth, yet dares not front his MakerWith the full damnable lie hot on his lips.Not thou alone, my private foe, shalt die,But all thy race. Thee had my vengeance reached,Without appeal to Prince or citizen.Silence! my heart is cuirassed as my breast.
RABBI JACOB.Bear with us, gracious lords! My friend is stunned.He is an honest man. Even I, as 't were,Am stupefied by this surprising news.Yet, let me think—it seems it is not new,This is an ancient, well-remembered pain.What, brother, came not one who prophesiedThis should betide exactly as it doth?That was a shrewd old man! Your pardon, lords,I think you know not just what you would do.You say the Jews shall burn—shall burn you say;Why, good my lords, the Jews are not a flockOf gallows-birds, they are a colonyOf kindly, virtuous folk. Come home with me;I'll show you happy hearths, glad roofs, pure lives.Why, some of them are little quick-eyed boys,Some, pretty, ungrown maidens—children's childrenOf those who called me to the pastorate.And some are beautiful tall girls, some, youthsOf marvellous promise, some are old and sick,Amongst them there be mothers, infants, brides,Just like your Christian people, for all the world.Know ye what burning is? Hath one of youScorched ever his soft flesh, or singed his beard,His hair, his eyebrows—felt the keen, fierce nipOf the pungent flame—and raises not his voiceTo stop this holocaust? God! 't is too horrible!Wake me, my friends, from this terrific dream.
SUSSKIND.Courage, my brother. On our firmness hangsThe dignity of Israel. Sir Governor,I have a secret word to speak with you.
SCHNETZEN.Ye shall enjoy with me the jest. These knavesAre apt to quick invention as in crime.Speak out—I have no secrets from my peers.
SUSSKIND.My lord, what answer would you give your ChristIf peradventure, in this general doomYou sacrifice a Christian? Some strayed doveLost from your cote, among our vultures caged?Beware, for midst our virgins there is oneOwes kinship nor allegiance to our tribe.For her dear sake be pitiful, my lords,Have mercy on our women! Spare at leastMy daughter Liebhaid, she is none of mine!She is a Christian!
SCHNETZEN.Just as I foretold!The wretches will forswear the sacred'st ties,Cringing for life. Serpents, ye all shall die.So wills the Landgrave; so the court affirms.Your daughter shall be first, whose wanton artsHave brought destruction on a princely house.
SUSSKIND.My lord, be moved. You kill your flesh and blood.By Adonai I swear, your dying wifeEntrusted to these arms her child. 'T was ICarried your infant from your burning home.Lord Schnetzen, will you murder your own child?
SCHNETZEN.Ha, excellent! I was awaiting this.Thou wilt inoculate our knightly veinsWith thy corrupted Jewish blood. Thou 'lt foistThis adder on my bosom. Henry SchnetzenIs no weak dupe, whom every lie may start.Make ready, Jew, for death—and warn thy tribe.