CAIN (interrupting her). No, No more of threats: we have had too many of them: ADAH. I will not leave thee lonely with the dead; Let us depart together. CAIN. Oh! thou dead And everlasting witness! whose unsinking Blood darkens earth and heaven! what thou now art, I think thou wilt forgive him, whom his God Can ne'er forgive, nor his own soul.-Farewell! I must not, dare not, touch what I have made thee. Can never meet thee more, nor even dare To do that for thee, which thou shouldst have done But who hath dug that grave! Oh, earth! Oh, earth! [ADAH stoops down and kisses the body of ABEL. ADAH. A dreary, and an early doom, my brother, CAIN. Eastward from Eden will we take our way; ADAR. Lead! thou shalt be my guide, and may our God CAIN. And he who lieth there was childless. I have dried the fountain of a gentle race, ADAH. Peace be with him! CAIN. But with me!- [Exeunt. conception, rather than execution; for the story might, perhaps, have been more developed with greater advantage. Amongst those whose opinions agreed with mine THE following drama is taken entirely from the « Ger- but it is not necessary, nor indeed of any use; for every upon this story, I could mention some very high names; man's Tale, Kruitzner,» published many years ago in one must judge according to their own feelings. I merely « Lee's Canterbury Tales;» written (I believe) by two refer the reader to the original story, that he may sisters, of whom one furnished only this story and another, both of which are considered superior to the not unwilling that he should find much greater pleasure see to what extent I have borrowed from it; and am remainder of the collection. I have adopted the chain perusing it than the drama which is founded upon racters, plan, and even the language, of many parts of this story. Some of the characters are modified or altered, a few of the names changed, and, one character (Ida of Stralenheim) added by myself: but in the rest the original is chiefly followed. When I was young (about fourteen, think) I first read this tale, which made a deep impression upon me; and may, indeed, be said to contain the germ of much that I have since written, I am not sure that it ever was very popular; or at any rate its popularity has since been eclipsed by that of other great writers in the same department. But I have generally found that those who had read it, agreed with me in their estimate of the singular power of mind and conception which it developes. I should also add I had begun a drama upon this tale so far back as 1815 (the first I ever attempted, except one at thirteen years old, called «< Ulric and Ilvina,» which I had sense enough to burn), and had nearly completed an act, when I was interrupted by circumstances. This is somewhere amongst my papers in England; but as it has not been found, I have re-written the first, and added the subsequent acts. The whole is neither intended, nor in any shape adapted, for the stage. February, 1822. Where hast thou seen such? Scene-partly on the frontier of Silesia, and partly in Let me be wretched with the rest! JOSEPHINE. But think How many in this hour of tempest shiver WERNER. And that's not the worst: who cares A beggar, and should know the thing thou talk'st of. JOSEPHINE. And art thou not now shelter'd from them all? WERNER. Yes. And from these alone. JOSEPHINE. And that is something. JOSEPHINE. To me Something beyond our outward sufferings (though JOSEPHINE (abruptly). But I was born to wealth, and rank, and power; The fluttering bird, hath ere this time outstept me, An exile's daughter with an outcast son Ne'er raised a thought to injure thee or thine. Trust me, when in my two-and-twentieth spring, JOSEPHINE. I thought so all along; such natural yearnings Play'd round my heart-blood is not water, cousin; And so let's have some wine, and drink unto [A knocking is heard. Our better acquaintance: relatives should be Friends. WERNER. Better, sir? IDENSTEIN. Better or worse, like matrimony, what Are you Shall I say more? You have been a guest this month Here in the prince's palace-(to be sure His highness had resign'd it to the ghosts And rats these twelve years-but 't is still a palace)— WERNER. My name is Werner. IDENSTEIN. A goodly name, a very worthy name, I have a cousin in the lazaretto Of Hamburgh, who has got a wife who bore That to our sorrow, for these five days, since It keeps us here. IDENSTEIN. But what you don't know is, That a great personage, who fain would cross Against the stream, and three postilions' wishes, Is drown'd below the ford, with five post-horses, A monkey, and a mastiff, and a valet. JOSEPHINE. Poor creatures! are you sure? IDENSTEIN. Yes, of the monkey, And the valet, and the cattle; but as yet We know not if his excellency's dead Or no; your noblemen are hard to drown, As it is fit that men in office should be; But, what is certain is, that he has swallow'd Enough of the Oder to have burst two peasants; And now a Saxon and Hungarian traveller, Who, at their proper peril, snatch'd him from The whirling river, have sent on to crave A lodging, or a grave, according as It may turn out with the live or dead body. JOSEPHINE. And where will you receive him? here, I hope. If we can be of service-say the word. What ho, there! bustle! Without there, Herman, Weilburg, Peter, Conrad! [Gives directions to different servants who enter. A nobleman sleeps here to-night-see that All is in order in the damask chamber— Keep up the stove-I will myself to the cellar- To say the truth, they are marvellous scant of this GABOR. Faith! I cannot tell; but I should think the pillow How many? GABOR. I did not count them. We came up by mere accident, and just In time to drag him through his carriage window. IDENSTEIN. Well, what would I give to save a great man! Perhaps. GABOR. IDENSTEIN. Now, how much do you reckon on? GABOR. I have not yet put up myself to sale: I don't much like this fellow-close and dry [Exit IDENSTEIN. GABOR (to WERNER). This master of the ceremonies is The intendant of the palace, I presume? T is a fine building, but decay'd. |