Chapter 29

secret Passage leads_.

_Enter_ WERNER _and_ GABOR.

_Gab._ Sir, I have told my tale: if it so please you To give me refuge for a few hours, well-- If not, I'll try my fortune elsewhere.

_Wer._ How Can I, so wretched, give to Misery A shelter?--wanting such myself as much As e'er the hunted deer a covert----

_Gab._ Or The wounded lion his cool cave. Methinks You rather look like one would turn at bay, And rip the hunter's entrails.

_Wer._ Ah!

_Gab._ I care not If it be so, being much disposed to do 10 The same myself. But will you shelter me? I am oppressed like you--and poor like you-- Disgraced----

_Wer._ (_abruptly_). Who told you that I was disgraced?

_Gab._ No one; nor did I say _you_ were so: with Your poverty my likeness ended; but I said _I_ was so--and would add, with truth, As undeservedly as _you_.

_Wer._ Again! As _I_?

_Gab._ Or any other honest man. What the devil would you have? You don't believe me Guilty of this base theft?

_Wer._ No, no--I cannot. 20

_Gab._ Why that's my heart of honour! yon young gallant-- Your miserly Intendant and dense noble-- All--all suspected me; and why? because I am the worst clothed, and least named amongst them; Although, were Momus'[186] lattice in your breasts, My soul might brook to open it more widely Than theirs: but thus it is--you poor and helpless-- Both still more than myself.

_Wer._ How know you that?

_Gab._ You're right: I ask for shelter at the hand Which I call helpless; if you now deny it, 30 I were well paid. But you, who seem to have proved The wholesome bitterness of life, know well, By sympathy, that all the outspread gold Of the New World the Spaniard boasts about Could never tempt the man who knows its worth, Weighed at its proper value in the balance, Save in such guise (and there I grant its power, Because I feel it,) as may leave no nightmare Upon his heart o' nights.

_Wer._ What do you mean?

_Gab._ Just what I say; I thought my speech was plain: 40 You are no thief--nor I--and, as true men, Should aid each other.

_Wer._ It is a damned world, sir.

_Gab._ So is the nearest of the two next, as The priests say (and no doubt they should know best), Therefore I'll stick by this--as being both To suffer martyrdom, at least with such An epitaph as larceny upon my tomb. It is but a night's lodging which I crave; To-morrow I will try the waters, as The dove did--trusting that they have abated. 50

_Wer._ Abated? Is there hope of that?

_Gab._ There was At noontide.

_Wer._ Then we may be safe.

_Gab._ Are _you_ In peril?

_Wer._ Poverty is ever so.

_Gab._ That I know by long practice. Will you not Promise to make mine less?

_Wer._ Your poverty?

_Gab._ No--you don't look a leech for that disorder; I meant my peril only: you've a roof, And I have none; I merely seek a covert.

_Wer._ Rightly; for how should such a wretch as I Have gold?

_Gab._ Scarce honestly, to say the truth on't, 60 Although I almost wish you had the Baron's.

_Wer._ Dare you insinuate?

_Gab._ What?

_Wer._ Are you aware To whom you speak?

_Gab._ No; and I am not used Greatly to care. (_A noise heard without_.) But hark! they come!

_Wer._ Who come?

_Gab._ The Intendant and his man-hounds after me: I'd face them--but it were in vain to expect Justice at hands like theirs. Where shall I go? But show me any place. I do assure you, If there be faith in man, I am most guiltless: Think if it were your own case!

_Wer._ (_aside_). Oh, just God! 70 Thy hell is not hereafter! Am I dust still?

_Gab._ I see you're moved; and it shows well in you: I may live to requite it.

_Wer._ Are you not A spy of Stralenheim's?

_Gab._ Not I! and if I were, what is there to espy in you? Although, I recollect, his frequent question About you and your spouse might lead to some Suspicion; but you best know--what--and why. I am his deadliest foe.

_Wer._ _You?_

_Gab._ After such A treatment for the service which in part 80 I rendered him, I am his enemy: If you are not his friend you will assist me.

_Wer._ I will.

_Gab._ But how?

_Wer._ (_showing the panel_). There is a secret spring: Remember, I discovered it by chance, And used it but for safety.

_Gab._ Open it, And I will use it for the same.

_Wer._ I found it, As I have said: it leads through winding walls, (So thick as to bear paths within their ribs, Yet lose no jot of strength or stateliness,) And hollow cells, and obscure niches, to 90 I know not whither; you must not advance: Give me your word.

_Gab._ It is unecessary: How should I make my way in darkness through A Gothic labyrinth of unknown windings?

_Wer._ Yes, but who knows to what place it may lead? _I_ know not--(mark you!)--but who knows it might not Lead even into the chamber of your foe? So strangely were contrived these galleries By our Teutonic fathers in old days, When man built less against the elements 100 Than his next neighbour. You must not advance Beyond the two first windings; if you do (Albeit I never passed them,) I'll not answer For what you may be led to.

_Gab._ But I will. A thousand thanks!

_Wer._ You'll find the spring more obvious On the other side; and, when you would return, It yields to the least touch.

_Gab._ I'll in--farewell! [GABOR _goes in by the secret panel_.

_Wer._ (_solus_). What have I done? Alas! what _had_ I done Before to make this fearful? Let it be Still some atonement that I save the man, 110 Whose sacrifice had saved perhaps my own-- They come! to seek elsewhere what is before them!

_Enter_ IDENSTEIN _and Others_.

_Iden._ Is he not here? He must have vanished then Through the dim Gothic glass by pious aid Of pictured saints upon the red and yellow Casements, through which the sunset streams like sunrise On long pearl-coloured beards and crimson crosses. And gilded crosiers, and crossed arms, and cowls, And helms, and twisted armour, and long swords, All the fantastic furniture of windows 120 Dim with brave knights and holy hermits, whose Likeness and fame alike rest in some panes Of crystal, which each rattling wind proclaims As frail as any other life or glory. He's gone, however.

_Wer._ Whom do you seek?

_Iden._ A villain.

_Wer._ Why need you come so far, then?

_Iden._ In the search Of him who robbed the Baron.

_Wer._ Are you sure You have divined the man?

_Iden._ As sure as you Stand there: but where's he gone?

_Wer._ Who?

_Iden._ He we sought.

_Wer._ You see he is not here.

_Iden._ And yet we traced him 130 Up to this hall. Are you accomplices? Or deal you in the black art?

_Wer._ I deal plainly, To many men the blackest.

_Iden._ It may be I have a question or two for yourself Hereafter; but we must continue now Our search for t'other.

_Wer._ You had best begin Your inquisition now: I may not be So patient always.

_Iden._ I should like to know, In good sooth, if you really are the man That Stralenheim's in quest of.

_Wer._ Insolent! 140 Said you not that he was not here?

_Iden._ Yes, _one_; But there's another whom he tracks more keenly, And soon, it may be, with authority Both paramount to his and mine. But come! Bustle, my boys! we are at fault. [_Exit_ IDENSTEIN _and Attendants_.

_Wer._ In what A maze hath my dim destiny involved me! And one base sin hath done me less ill than The leaving undone one far greater. Down, Thou busy devil, rising in my heart! Thou art too late! I'll nought to do with blood. 150

_Enter_ ULRIC.

_Ulr._ I sought you, father.

_Wer._ Is't not dangerous?

_Ulr._ No; Stralenheim is ignorant of all Or any of the ties between us: more-- He sends me here a spy upon your actions, Deeming me wholly his.

_Wer._ I cannot think it: 'Tis but a snare he winds about us both, To swoop the sire and son at once.

_Ulr._ I cannot Pause in each petty fear, and stumble at The doubts that rise like briers in our path, But must break through them, as an unarmed carle 160 Would, though with naked limbs, were the wolf rustling In the same thicket where he hewed for bread. Nets are for thrushes, eagles are not caught so: We'll overfly or rend them.

_Wer._ Show me _how?_

_Ulr._ Can you not guess?

_Wer._ I cannot.

_Ulr._ That is strange. Came the thought ne'er into your mind _last night_?

_Wer._ I understand you not.

_Ulr._ Then we shall never More understand each other. But to change The topic----

_Wer._ You mean to _pursue_ it, as 'Tis of our safety.

_Ulr._ Right; I stand corrected. 170 I see the subject now more clearly, and Our general situation in its bearings. The waters are abating; a few hours Will bring his summoned myrmidons from Frankfort, When you will be a prisoner, perhaps worse, And I an outcast, bastardised by practice Of this same Baron to make way for him.

_Wer._ And now your remedy! I thought to escape By means of this accurséd gold; but now I dare not use it, show it, scarce look on it. 180 Methinks it wears upon its face my guilt For motto, not the mintage of the state; And, for the sovereign's head, my own begirt With hissing snakes, which curl around my temples, And cry to all beholders, Lo! a villain!

_Ulr._ You must not use it, at least now; but take This ring. [_He gives_ WERNER _a jewel_.

_Wer._ A gem! It was my father's!

_Ulr._ And As such is now your own. With this you must Bribe the Intendant for his old caleche And horses to pursue your route at sunrise, 190 Together with my mother.

_Wer._ And leave you, So lately found, in peril too?

_Ulr._ Fear nothing! The only fear were if we fled together, For that would make our ties beyond all doubt. The waters only lie in flood between This burgh and Frankfort: so far's in our favour The route on to Bohemia, though encumbered, Is not impassable; and when you gain A few hours' start, the difficulties will be The same to your pursuers. Once beyond 200 The frontier, and you're safe.

_Wer._ My noble boy!

_Ulr._ Hush! hush! no transports: we'll indulge in them In Castle Siegendorf! Display no gold: Show Idenstein the gem (I know the man, And have looked through him): it will answer thus A double purpose. Stralenheim lost _gold_-- _No_ jewel: therefore it could _not_ be his; And then the man who was possest of this Can hardly be suspected of abstracting The Baron's coin, when he could thus convert 210 This ring to more than Stralenheim has lost By his last night's slumber. Be not over timid In your address, nor yet too arrogant, And Idenstein will serve you.

_Wer._ I will follow In all things your direction.

_Ulr._ I would have Spared you the trouble; but had I appeared To take an interest in you, and still more By dabbling with a jewel in your favour, All had been known at once.

_Wer._ My guardian angel! This overpays the past. But how wilt thou 220 Fare in our absence?

_Ulr._ Stralenheim knows nothing Of me as aught of kindred with yourself. I will but wait a day or two with him To lull all doubts, and then rejoin my father.

_Wer._ To part no more!

_Ulr._ I know not that; but at The least we'll meet again once more.

_Wer._ My boy! My friend! my only child, and sole preserver! Oh, do not hate me!

_Ulr._ Hate my father!

_Wer._ Aye, My father hated me. Why not my son?

_Ulr._ Your father knew you not as I do.

_Wer._ Scorpions 230 Are in thy words! Thou know me? in this guise Thou canst not know me, I am not myself; Yet (hate me not) I will be soon.

_Ulr._ I'll _wait!_ In the mean time be sure that all a son Can do for parents shall be done for mine.

_Wer._ I see it, and I feel it; yet I feel Further--that you despise me.

_Ulr._ Wherefore should I?

_Wer._ Must I repeat my humiliation?

_Ulr._ No! I have fathomed it and you. But let us talk Of this no more. Or, if it must be ever, 240 Not _now_. Your error has redoubled all The present difficulties of our house At secret war with that of Stralenheim: All we have now to think of is to baffle HIM. I have shown _one_ way.

_Wer._ The only one, And I embrace it, as I did my son, Who showed _himself_ and father's _safety_ in One day.

_Ulr._ You _shall_ be safe; let that suffice. Would Stralenheim's appearance in Bohemia Disturb your right, or mine, if once we were 250 Admitted to our lands?

_Wer._ Assuredly, Situate as we are now; although the first Possessor might, as usual, prove the strongest-- Especially the next in blood.

_Ulr._ _Blood_! 'tis A word of many meanings; in the veins, And out of them, it is a different thing-- And so it should be, when the same in blood (As it is called) are aliens to each other, Like Theban brethren:[187] when a part is bad, A few spilt ounces purify the rest. 260

_Wer._ I do not apprehend you.

_Ulr._ That may be-- And should, perhaps--and yet--but get ye ready; You and my mother must away to-night. Here comes the Intendant: sound him with the gem; 'Twill sink into his venal soul like lead Into the deep, and bring up slime and mud, And ooze, too, from the bottom, as the lead doth With its greased understratum;[188] but no less Will serve to warn our vessels through these shoals. The freight is rich, so heave the line in time! 270 Farewell! I scarce have time, but yet your _hand_, My father!----

_Wer._ Let me embrace thee!

_Ulr._ We may be Observed: subdue your nature to the hour! Keep off from me as from your foe!

_Wer._ Accursed Be he who is the stifling cause which smothers The best and sweetest feeling of our hearts; At such an hour too!

_Ulr._ Yes, curse--it will ease you! Here is the Intendant.

_Enter_ IDENSTEIN.

_Ulr._ Master Idenstein, How fare you in your purpose? Have you caught The rogue?

_Iden._ No, faith!

_Ulr._ Well, there are plenty more: 280 You may have better luck another chase. Where is the Baron?

_Iden._ Gone back to his chamber: And now I think on't, asking after you With nobly-born impatience.

_Ulr._ Your great men Must be answered on the instant, as the bound Of the stung steed replies unto the spur: 'Tis well they have horses, too; for if they had not, I fear that men must draw their chariots, as They say kings did Sesostris[189].

_Iden._ Who was he?

_Ulr._ An old Bohemian--an imperial gipsy. 290

_Iden._ A gipsy or Bohemian, 'tis the same, For they pass by both names. And was he one?

_Ulr._ I've heard so; but I must take leave. Intendant, Your servant!--Werner (_to_ WERNER _slightly_), if that be your name, Yours. [_Exit_ ULRIC.

_Iden._ A well-spoken, pretty-faced young man! And prettily behaved! He knows his station, You see, sir: how he gave to each his due Precedence!

_Wer._ I perceived it, and applaud His just discernment and your own.

_Iden._ That's well-- That's very well. You also know your place, too; 300 And yet I don't know that _I_ know your place.

_Wer._ (_showing the ring_). Would this assist your knowledge?

_Iden._ How!--What!--Eh! A jewel!

_Wer._ 'Tis your own on one condition.

_Iden._ Mine!--Name it!

_Wer._ That hereafter you permit me At thrice its value to redeem it: 'tis A family ring.

_Iden._ A family!--_yours!_--a gem! I'm breathless!

_Wer._ You must also furnish me, An hour ere daybreak, with all means to quit This place.

_Iden._ But is it real? Let me look on it: _Diamond_, by all that's glorious!

_Wer._ Come, I'll trust you: 310 You have guessed, no doubt, that I was born above My present seeming.

_Iden._ I can't say I did, Though this looks like it: this is the true breeding Of gentle blood!

_Wer._ I have important reasons For wishing to continue privily My journey hence.

_Iden._ So then _you are_ the man Whom Stralenheim's in quest of?

_Wer._ I am not; But being taken for him might conduct So much embarrassment to me just now, And to the Baron's self hereafter--'tis 320 To spare both that I would avoid all bustle.

_Iden._ Be you the man or no, 'tis not my business; Besides, I never could obtain the half From this proud, niggardly noble, who would raise The country for some missing bits of coin, And never offer a precise reward--[ct] But _this!_--another look!

_Wer._ Gaze on it freely; At day-dawn it is yours.

_Iden._ Oh, thou sweet sparkler! Thou more than stone of the philosopher! Thou touch-stone of Philosophy herself! 330 Thou bright eye of the Mine! thou loadstar of The soul! the true magnetic Pole to which All hearts point duly north, like trembling needles! Thou flaming Spirit of the Earth! which, sitting High on the Monarch's Diadem, attractest More worship than the majesty who sweats Beneath the crown which makes his head ache, like Millions of hearts which bleed to lend it lustre! Shalt thou be mine? I am, methinks, already A little king, a lucky alchymist!-- 340 A wise magician, who has bound the devil Without the forfeit of his soul. But come, Werner, or what else?

_Wer._ Call me Werner still; You may yet know me by a loftier title.

_Iden._ I do believe in thee! thou art the spirit Of whom I long have dreamed in a low garb.-- But come, I'll serve thee; thou shalt be as free As air, despite the waters; let us hence: I'll show thee I am honest--(oh, thou jewel!) Thou shalt be furnished, Werner, with such means 350 Of flight, that if thou wert a snail, not birds[cu] Should overtake thee.--Let me gaze again! I have a foster-brother in the mart Of Hamburgh skilled in precious stones. How many Carats may it weigh?--Come, Werner, I will wing thee. [_Exeunt_.