The Works of Frederick Schiller Part 274

HEIWIG.

Heavens, who is it?

TELL.

Do not ask.

Away! away! the children must not hear it.

Out of the house--away! Thou must not rest 'Neath the same roof with this unhappy man!

HEDWIG.

Alas! What is it? Come!

[Exit with the children.

TELL (to the MONK).

Thou art the Duke Of Austria--I know it. Thou hast slain The emperor, thy uncle, and liege lord.

DUKE JOHN.

He robbed me of my patrimony.

TELL.

How!

Slain him--thy king, thy uncle! And the earth Still bears thee! And the sun still s.h.i.+nes on thee!

DUKE JOHN.

Tell, hear me, ere you----

TELL.

Reeking with the blood Of him that was thy emperor and kinsman, Durst thou set foot within my spotless house?

Show thy fell visage to a virtuous man, And claim the rites of hospitality?

DUKE JOHN.

I hoped to find compa.s.sion at your hands.

You also took revenge upon your foe!

TELL.

Unhappy man! And dar'st thou thus confound Ambition's b.l.o.o.d.y crime with the dread act To which a father's direful need impelled him?

Hadst thou to s.h.i.+eld thy children's darling heads?

To guard thy fireside's sanctuary--ward off The last, worst doom from all that thou didst love?

To heaven I raise my unpolluted hands, To curse thine act and thee! I have avenged That holy nature which thou hast profaned.

I have no part with thee. Thou art a murderer; I've s.h.i.+elded all that was most dear to me.

DUKE JOHN.

You cast me off to comfortless despair!

TELL.

My blood runs cold even while I talk with thee.

Away! Pursue thine awful course! Nor longer Pollute the cot where innocence abides!

[DUKE JOHN turns to depart.

DUKE JOHN.

I cannot live, and will no longer thus!

TELL.

And yet my soul bleeds for thee--gracious heaven!

So young, of such a n.o.ble line, the grandson Of Rudolph, once my lord and emperor, An outcast--murderer--standing at my door, The poor man's door--a suppliant, in despair!

[Covers his face.

DUKE JOHN.

If thou hast power to weep, oh let my fate Move your compa.s.sion--it is horrible.

I am--say, rather was--a prince. I might Have been most happy had I only curbed The impatience of my pa.s.sionate desires; But envy gnawed my heart--I saw the youth Of mine own cousin Leopold endowed With honor, and enriched with broad domains, The while myself, that was in years his equal, Was kept in abject and disgraceful nonage.

TELL.

Unhappy man, thy uncle knew thee well, When he withheld both land and subjects from thee; Thou, by thy mad and desperate act hast set A fearful seal upon his sage resolve.

Where are the b.l.o.o.d.y partners of thy crime?

DUKE JOHN.

Where'er the demon of revenge has borne them; I have not seen them since the luckless deed.

TELL.

Know'st thou the empire's ban is out,--that thou Art interdicted to thy friends, and given An outlawed victim to thine enemies!

DUKE JOHN.

Therefore I shun all public thoroughfares, And venture not to knock at any door-- I turn my footsteps to the wilds, and through The mountains roam, a terror to myself.

From mine own self I shrink with horror back, Should a chance brook reflect my ill-starred form.

If thou hast pity for a fellow-mortal----

[Falls down before him.

TELL.

Stand up, stand up!

DUKE JOHN.

Not till thou shalt extend Thy hand in promise of a.s.sistance to me.

TELL.

Can I a.s.sist thee? Can a sinful man?

Yet get thee up,--how black soe'er thy crime, Thou art a man. I, too, am one. From Tell Shall no one part uncomforted. I will Do all that lies within my power.

DUKE JOHN (springs up and grasps him ardently by the hand).

Oh, Tell, You save me from the terrors of despair.

TELL.

Let go my band! Thou must away. Thou canst not Remain here undiscovered, and discovered Thou canst not count on succor. Which way, then, Wilt bend thy steps? Where dost thou hope to find A place of rest?

DUKE JOHN.

Alas! alas! I know not.

TELL.