_King_ [_bewildered_]. What dost thou mean?
_Hans Lorba.s.s_. Well then, if that should disappear that stands in thy way? [_Bursting out._] Then wouldst thou take thy sword in both thy hands and storm exulting on the foe?... Well?
_King_. I understand thee not.
_Hans Lorba.s.s_. Then--
_King_. Silence, silence! Thou knowest I have quenched the last embers of my desires. Thinkest thou to kindle a new blaze thereon by victory and sin? A fire must run from heaven, must mount from h.e.l.l, to light a new life in my fading course. A thing of horror must first come to pa.s.s; whence it came would be as naught to me, if it could but rise wonder-like upon my sight. Alas, from out these ashes no miracle can rise for me! I can no longer hope and struggle.... The door stands open to the upper room.... Once more I mount up to the height, once more behold the gray dawn turn to gold in rosy glory--
_Hans Lorba.s.s_. Wilt thou come back?
_King_. Nay, didst thou not think so? I--[_As Colestin with the young Prince puts himself in the way._] Away with the child!--I must die!
[_Goes out._]
_Hans Lorba.s.s_ [_to himself_]. "A thing of horror must first come to pa.s.s." And then, "If I might strike a blow for my own throne." "If thou wert not." And looked at him with such eyes!--Colestin, if I had something to ask--thou knowest, perhaps, the King will yield to me--more than--in short, I am beloved by him--
_Colestin_. Good reason for it.
_Hans Lorba.s.s_. Yes. Then what if I knew how to goad him into harness, so that even before the hour had struck, he had the b.a.s.t.a.r.d by the throat with your all-avenging sword?
_Colestin_. It would be possible? Thou couldst?
_Hans Lorba.s.s_. Yes. But I need the Prince.
_Colestin_. The Princeling,--why?
_Hans Lorba.s.s_. With him by the hand I would sit there on the landing and hold watch till he came down.
_Colestin_. And then?
_Hans Lorba.s.s_. Then, Major-domo,--that is my affair.
_Colestin_. The Queen left him in my care. But I know, Hans Lorba.s.s that thou lovest him. Wilt thou, my little Prince?
_The Young Prince_. Dost thou ask me? I love to stay with him,--he teaches me to fight. [_He runs to him._]
_Colestin_. And may G.o.d bless thee in thy task.
_Hans Lorba.s.s_. Much thanks. [_Turning to_ Anna Goldhair.] I do not want her. Take her with thee.
_Colestin_. Come, poor wench.
_The Young Prince_. May Anna stay here, too?
[Hans Lorba.s.s _hushes him._]
_Anna Goldhair_. Oh, Colestin, if I could hide somewhere, and see my dear Queen pa.s.s by just once!
_Colestin_. Spare me thy plaints.... Well, wait, I will hide thee here behind the curtains of the door; stay there, and do not move, and when she goes to the cathedral--come, come!
[Colestin _and_ Anna Goldhair _go out._]
_Hans Lorba.s.s_ [_grimly_]. My Prince!
_The Young Prince_ [_tenderly_]. My Hans!
_Hans Lorba.s.s_. And still it grips me cruelly hard.
_The Young Prince_. What is it thou grumblest in thy beard? Come, let us fight.
_Hans Lorba.s.s_. Let us fight, child! If thou knewest how to fight indeed!
_The Young Prince_. How strange thou art to-day? Say, Hans, is it true that a cruel enemy stands before the gate?
_Hans Lorba.s.s_. Quite true.
_The Young Prince_. Will he come inside?
_Hans Lorba.s.s_. Not yet. Before long.
_The Young Prince_. How long?
_Hans Lorba.s.s_. Until the drums sound the attack.
_The Young Prince_. Soon?
_Hans Lorba.s.s_. Very soon.
_The Young Prince_. Oh, that is splendid! And why did the father go up to his tower?
_Hans Lorba.s.s_. Because ... If I knew whether this young blood would be poured out in vain. To every foulness G.o.d created he has given a tongue to shriek: "Behold my purpose!" And such a deed as this to-day ... but no! "If thou wert not!"
_The Young Prince_. If I were not,--what then?
_Hans Lorba.s.s_. Wha--? Why? His sick desires, his failing deeds, the dreams that mock his brain, that make the right seem wrong,--if he might see a wish of his become a fact, as if by magic power, perhaps that knowledge of renewed strength might scatter his gloom to its accursed source and set him free. Now show thy worth and bleed here quietly on my breast--what dost thou there!
_The Young Prince_ [_playing about meanwhile has drawn the sword from its sheath_]. I am learning to carry the King"s sword. Forward! Hasten, the foe will come! Very well. Then I shall be the victor.
_Hans Lorba.s.s_. Put it down!
_The Young Prince_. Ah, no!
_Hans Lorba.s.s_. Put it down!
_The Young Prince_. Oh-oo! That is sharp!
_Hans Lorba.s.s_. Thou knowest who alone may carry that?
_The Young Prince_. The King.