The Works of Lord Byron Volume V Part 86

_Wer._ An exile's daughter with an outcast son, Were a fit marriage: but I still had hopes To lift thee to the state we both were born for.

Your father's house was n.o.ble, though decayed; And worthy by its birth to match with ours.

_Jos._ Your father did not think so, though 'twas n.o.ble; But had my birth been all my claim to match 130 With thee, I should have deemed it what it is.

_Wer._ And what is that in thine eyes?

_Jos._ All which it Has done in our behalf,--nothing.

_Wer._ How,--nothing?

_Jos._ Or worse; for it has been a canker in Thy heart from the beginning: but for this, We had not felt our poverty but as Millions of myriads feel it--cheerfully; But for these phantoms of thy feudal fathers, Thou mightst have earned thy bread, as thousands earn it; Or, if that seem too humble, tried by commerce, 140 Or other civic means, to amend thy fortunes.

_Wer._ (_ironically_). And been an Hanseatic burgher? Excellent!

_Jos._ Whate'er thou mightest have been, to me thou art What no state high or low can ever change, My heart's first choice;--which chose thee, knowing neither Thy birth, thy hopes, thy pride; nought, save thy sorrows: While they last, let me comfort or divide them: When they end--let mine end with them, or thee!

_Wer._ My better angel! Such I have ever found thee; This rashness, or this weakness of my temper, 150 Ne'er raised a thought to injure thee or thine.

Thou didst not mar my fortunes: my own nature In youth was such as to unmake an empire, Had such been my inheritance; but now, Chastened, subdued, out-worn, and taught to know Myself,--to lose this for our son and thee!

Trust me, when, in my two-and-twentieth spring, My father barred me from my father's house, The last sole scion of a thousand sires (For I was then the last), it hurt me less 160 Than to behold my boy and my boy's mother Excluded in their innocence from what My faults deserved-exclusion; although then My pa.s.sions were all living serpents,[161] and Twined like the Gorgon's round me.

[_A loud knocking is heard_.

_Jos._ Hark!

_Wer._ A knocking!

_Jos._ Who can it be at this lone hour? We have Few visitors.

_Wer._ And poverty hath none, Save those who come to make it poorer still.

Well--I am prepared.

[WERNER _puts his hand into his bosom, as if to search for some weapon_.

_Jos._ Oh! do not look so. I Will to the door. It cannot be of import 170 In this lone spot of wintry desolation:-- The very desert saves man from mankind.

[_She goes to the door_.

_Enter_ IDENSTEIN.

_Iden._ A fair good evening to my fair hostess And worthy----What's your name, my friend?

_Wer._ Are you Not afraid to demand it?

_Iden._ Not afraid?

Egad! I am afraid. You look as if I asked for something better than your name, By the face you put on it.

_Wer._ Better, sir!

_Iden._ Better or worse, like matrimony: what Shall I say more? You have been a guest this month 180 Here in the prince's palace--(to be sure, His Highness had resigned it to the ghosts And rats these twelve years--but 'tis still a palace)-- I say you have been our lodger, and as yet We do not know your name.

_Wer._ My name is Werner[162].

_Iden._ A goodly name, a very worthy name, As e'er was gilt upon a trader's board: I have a cousin in the lazaretto Of Hamburgh, who has got a wife who bore The same. He is an officer of trust, 190 Surgeon's a.s.sistant (hoping to be surgeon), And has done miracles i' the way of business.

Perhaps you are related to my relative?

_Wer._ To yours?

_Jos._ Oh, yes; we are, but distantly.

(_Aside to_ WERNER.) Cannot you humour the dull gossip till We learn his purpose?

_Iden._ Well, I'm glad of that; I thought so all along, such natural yearnings Played round my heart:--blood is not water, cousin; And so let's have some wine, and drink unto Our better acquaintance: relatives should be 200 Friends.

_Wer._ You appear to have drunk enough already; And if you have not, I've no wine to offer, Else it were yours: but this you know, or should know: You see I am poor, and sick, and will not see That I would be alone; but to your business!

What brings you here?

_Iden._ Why, what should bring me here?

_Wer._ I know not, though I think that I could guess That which will send you hence.

_Jos._ (_aside_). Patience, dear Werner!

_Iden._ You don't know what has happened, then?

_Jos._ How should we?

_Iden._ The river has o'erflowed.

_Jos._ Alas! we have known 210 That to our sorrow for these five days; since It keeps us here.

_Iden._ But what you don't know is, That a great personage, who fain would cross Against the stream and three postilions' wishes, Is drowned below the ford, with five post-horses, A monkey, and a mastiff--and a valet[163].

_Jos._ Poor creatures! are you sure?

_Iden._ Yes, of the monkey, And the valet, and the cattle; but as yet We know not if his Excellency's dead Or no; your n.o.blemen are hard to drown, 220 As it is fit that men in office should be; But what is certain is, that he has swallowed Enough of the Oder[164] to have burst two peasants; And now a Saxon and Hungarian traveller, Who, at their proper peril, s.n.a.t.c.hed 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.

_Jos._ And where will you receive him? here, I hope, If we can be of service--say the word. 230

_Iden._ Here? no; but in the Prince's own apartment, As fits a n.o.ble guest:--'tis damp, no doubt, Not having been inhabited these twelve years; But then he comes from a much damper place, So scarcely will catch cold in't, if he be Still liable to cold--and if not, why He'll be worse lodged to-morrow: ne'ertheless, I have ordered fire and all appliances To be got ready for the worst--that is, In case he should survive.

_Jos._ Poor gentleman! 240 I hope he will, with all my heart.

_Wer._ Intendant, Have you not learned his name? (_Aside to his wife_.) My Josephine, Retire: I'll sift this fool. [_Exit_ JOSEPHINE.

_Iden._ His name? oh Lord!

Who knows if he hath now a name or no?

'Tis time enough to ask it when he's able To give an answer; or if not, to put His heir's upon his epitaph. Methought Just now you chid me for demanding names?

_Wer._ True, true, I did so: you say well and wisely.

_Enter_ GABOR.[165]