Chapter 9

COUNT HOHENZOLLERN _and the_ PRINCE of HOMBURG.

HOHENZOLLERN (_taking a position some distance behind the_ PRINCE _who is still gazing fixedly up toward the terrace_). Arthur!

[_The_ PRINCE _drops to the ground._]

And there he lies! You could not do it better with a bullet.

[_He approaches him._]

Now I am eager for the fairy-tale He'll fabricate to show the reason why Of all the world he chose this place to sleep in.

[_He bends over him._]

Arthur! Hi! Devil's own! What are you up to? What are you doing here at dead of night?

THE PRINCE. Ah, dear, old fellow!

HOHENZOLLERN. Well, I'm hanged! See here! The cavalry's a full hour down the road And you, their colonel, you lie here and sleep.

THE PRINCE. What cavalry?

HOHENZOLLERN. The Mamelukes, of course! Sure as I live and breathe, the man's forgot That he commands the riders of the Mark!

THE PRINCE (rising). My helmet, quick then! My cuirass!

HOHENZOLLERN. Where are they?

THE PRINCE. Off to the right there, Harry.--On the stool.

HOHENZOLL. Where? On the stool?

THE PRINCE. I laid them there, I thought--

HOHENZOLLERN (regarding him). Then go and get them from the stool yourself.

THE PRINCE. What's this glove doing here

[He stares at the glove in his hand.]

HOHENZOLLERN. How should I know? [Aside.] Curses! He must have torn that unobserved from the lady niece's arm. [Abruptly.] Quick now, be off! What are you waiting for?

THE PRINCE (casting the glove away again). I'm coming, coming. Hi, Frank! The knave I told to wake me must have--

HOHENZOLLERN (regarding him). It's raving mad he is!

THE PRINCE. Upon my oath, Harry, my dear, I don't know where I am.

HOHENZOLL. In Fehrbellin, you muddle-headed dreamer-- You're in a by-path of the Castle gardens.

THE PRINCE (to himself). Engulf me, Night! Unwittingly once more In slumber through the moonshine have I strayed! [He pulls himself together.] Forgive me! Now I know! Last night, recall, The heat was such one scarce could lie in bed. I crept exhausted hither to this garden, And because Night with so sweet tenderness Encompassed me, fair-haired and odorous Night-- Even as the Persian bride wraps close her lover, Lo, here I laid my head upon her lap. What is the clock now?

HOHENZOLLERN. Half an hour of midnight.

THE PRINCE. And you aver the troops are on the march?

HOHENZOLL. Upon my word, sharp, stroke of ten, as planned. The Princess Orange regiment in van, By this undoubtedly has reached the heights Of Hackelwitz, there in the face of Wrangel To cloak the army's hid approach at dawn.

THE PRINCE. Well, no harm's done. Old Kottwitz captains her And he knows every purpose of this march. I should have been compelled, at all events By two, to come back hither for the council: Those were the orders. So it's just as well I stayed in the beginning. Let's be off. The Elector has no inkling?

HOHENZOLLERN. Bah! How should he? He's tight abed and snoozing long ago.

[_They are about to depart when the_ PRINCE _starts, turns, and picks up the glove_.]

THE PRINCE. I dreamed such an extraordinary dream! It seemed as though the palace of a king, Radiant with gold and silver, suddenly Oped wide its doors, and from its terrace high The galaxy of those my heart loves best Came down to me: The Elector and his Lady and the--third-- What is her name?

HOHENZOLLERN. Whose?

THE PRINCE (_searching his memory_). Why, the one I mean! A mute must find his tongue to speak her name.

HOHENZOLL. The Platen girl?

THE PRINCE. Come, come, now!

HOHENZOLLERN. The Ramin

THE PRINCE. No, no, old fellow!

HOHENZOLLERN. Bork? Or Winterfeld?

THE PRINCE. No, no! My word! You fail to see the pearl For the bright circlet that but sets it off!

HOHENZOLL. Damn it, then, tell me! I can't guess the face! What lady do you mean?

THE PRINCE. Well, never mind. The name has slipped from me since I awoke, And goes for little in the story.

HOHENZOLLERN. Well, Let's have it then!

THE PRINCE. But now, don't interrupt me!-- And the Elector of the Jovelike brow, Holding a wreath of laurel in his hand, Stands close beside me, and the soul of me To ravish quite, twines round the jeweled band That hangs about his neck, and unto one Gives it to press upon my locks--Oh, friend!

HOHENZOLL. To whom?

THE PRINCE. Oh, friend!

HOHENZOLLERN. To whom then? Come, speak up!

THE PRINCE. I think it must have been the Platen girl.

HOHENZOLL. Platen? Oh, bosh! Not she who's off in Prussia?

THE PRINCE. Really, the Platen girl. Or the Ramin?

HOHENZOLL. Lord, the Ramin! She of the brick-red hair? The Platen girl with those coy, violet eyes-- They say you fancy _her_.

THE PRINCE. I fancy her--

HOHENZOLL. So, and you say she handed you the wreath?

THE PRINCE. Oh, like some deity of fame she lifts High up the circlet with its dangling chain As if to crown a hero. I stretch forth, Oh, in delight unspeakable, my hands I stretch to seize it, yearning with my soul To sink before her feet. But as the odor That floats above green valleys, by the wind's Cool breathing is dispelled, the group recedes Up the high terrace from me; lo, the terrace Beneath my tread immeasurably distends To heaven's very gate. I clutch at air Vainly to right, to left I clutch at air, Of those I loved hungering to capture one. In vain! The palace portal opes amain. A flash of lightning from within engulfs them; Rattling, the door flies to. Only a glove I ravish from the sweet dream-creature's arm In passionate pursuing; and a glove, By all the gods, awaking, here I hold!

HOHENZOLL. Upon my word--and, you assume, the glove Must be her glove?

THE PRINCE. Whose?

HOHENZOLLERN. Well, the Platen girl's.

THE PRINCE. Platen! Of course. Or could it be Ramin's

HOHENZOLLERN (_with a laugh_). Rogue that you are with your mad fantasies! Who knows from what exploit delectable Here in a waking hour with flesh and blood The glove sticks to your hand, now?

THE PRINCE. Eh? What? I? With all my love--

HOHENZOLLERN. Oh, well then, what's the odds? Call it the Platen lady, or Ramin. There is a Prussian post on Sunday next, So you can find out by the shortest way Whether your lady fair has lost a glove. Off! Twelve o'clock! And we stand here and jaw!

THE PRINCE (_dreamily into space_). Yes, you are right. Come, let us go to bed. But as I had it on my mind to say-- Is the Electress who arrived in camp Not long since with her niece, the exquisite Princess of Orange, is she still about?

HOHENZOLL. Why?--I declare the idiot thinks--

THE PRINCE. Why? I've orders to have thirty mounted men Escort them safely from the battle-lines. Ramin has been detailed to lead them.

HOHENZOLLERN. Bosh! They're gone long since, or just about to go. The whole night long, Ramin, all rigged for flight, Has hugged the door. But come. It's stroke o' twelve. And I, for one, before the fight begins, I want to get some sleep.