The Continental Monthly, Vol. 6, No. 6, December 1864. Various

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The Continental Monthly, Vol. 6, No. 6, December 1864 - Various

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the courtyard. Jacob follows with the soldiers.

      A Voice. You give us broken arms, and force us to the combat!

      Another Voice. Henry, have mercy on thyself!

      Third Voice. Weak, wearied, famished, drive us not upon the walls!

      Fourth Voice. Where do they drive us? where?

      The Man. To death!—(To George, folding him in his arms.) With this embrace I would fain bind thee to my heart forever, George! Alas! I know our paths are widely sundered: it may not be, my son! my son!

      Struck by a ball, George sinks dying in his arms.

      Voice (from above). To me! to me! pure spirit! Up to me, my son!

      The Man. Ha! to my aid, soldiers! (He draws his sword, and holds it before the lips of the wounded boy.) The blade is crystal clear; no moisture dims the cold and glittering steel! Breath and life already gone! O George, my son!

      Ha! they are upon me! On I on! They are at last but a sword's length from me! Back! Back! into the abyss, ye sons of freedom. Back!

      Rushing on of man, confusion, struggle.

      Another part of the wall of the castle. Men in the distance in line of battle. Jacob is seen stretched out upon the wall: the Man, sprinkled with blood, hastily approaches him.

      The Man. Faithful old man, what has happened to you?

      Jacob. May the devil reward you in hell for your obstinacy, and my dying agonies!

      So help me God the Lord!

      Dies.

      The Man (throwing away his sword). I will need thee no longer, sword of my fathers! My son is in heaven—the very last of my retainers lies dead at my feet—the craven nobles have deserted their cause; already they kneel before the victor, and sue and howl for mercy! (Looking in every direction around him.) There still is time; as yet the enemy are not upon me! I will steal a moment's rest before....

      Ha! the New Men scale the northern tower; they shout 'Count Henry'—they seek him in every direction!

      Here I am! here I am! here I am! But you are not to pronounce sentence upon me; the dead have already given in their verdict. I go to meet the judgment and justice of my God! (He clambers up a steep cliff jutting out over the abyss.) I see thee, my eternity, as thou rapidly floatest on to meet me, black with the shadows of eternal night! shoreless, limitless, infinite! And in the midst of thy rayless gloom, like a burning sun, eternally shining, but illumining nothing, I see my God! (He takes some steps forward, and stands on the brink of the precipice.) Ha! they run, the New Men—they see me now! Jesus! Mary! O Poetry! be cursed by me, as I shall be to all eternity! Up, ye strong arms! cut through these waves of air!

      He springs into the abyss.

      The courtyard of the castle. Pancratius, Leonard; Bianchetti stands at the head of a regiment of soldiers. The remaining princes and counts, accompanied by their wives and children, file in before Pancratius.

      Pancratius. Your name?

      A Count. Christopher von Volsagen.

      Pancratius. You have pronounced it for the last time! And yours?

      A Prince. Wladislaus, Lord of Schwarzwald.

      Pancratius. It shall be heard on earth no more! And yours?

      A Baron. Alexander von Godalberg.

      Pancratius. It is already erased from the list of the living. Go!

      Bianchetti (to Leonard). They have repulsed us for two long months; their arms are wretched, and their accoutrements utterly worthless.

      Leonard. Are there many of them left?

      Pancratius. They are all given over to you for execution, that their blood may flow as an example to the world. But if there is one among them who can tell me where Count Henry hides, he shall have his life for his information!

      Many Voices. He vanished from our sight at last.

      The Godfather. Great Pancratius, I appear as mediator between you and your prisoners; spare these citizens of noble birth, because they have given up to you the keys and strongholds of the castle of the Holy Trinity!

      Pancratius. I have conquered by my own strength, and need no mediator. You will yourself take charge of their immediate execution!

      The Godfather. My whole life has been that of a good citizen. I have frequently given proof of true patriotism. When I joined your cause, Pancratius, it was not with the intention of leading my own noble brethren to—....

      Pancratius (interrupting him). Seize the old pedant! away with him! let him join his noble brethren!

      The soldiers surround the Godfather and the prisoners.

      Where is Count Henry? Has no one seen him, dead or living? A purse of gold for Henry, if only for his corpse!

      A division of soldiers descend the wall from above.

      The Leader of the Division. Citizen general! by the command of General Bianchetti, I stationed myself with my detachment, on the west side of the bulwark; upon our entrance into the fort on the third bastion to the left, I observed a man standing, unarmed, but bleeding and wounded, by a dead body. I cried immediately to my men: 'Hasten your steps, we must reach him!' but before we could approach him, he ascended a steep cliff overhanging the valley, stood for a moment on a sharp and jutting point of rock, and fixed his haggard eyes upon the depths below. I saw him, then, extend his arms like a swimmer about to make a sudden plunge; he threw himself forward with all his force; I saw him a moment in the air, and we all heard the noise made by the fall of the body as it pitched and fell from rock to rock into the abyss below.

      This is the sword which we found but a few steps from the spot on which we first observed him.

      He hands a sword to Pancratius.

      Pancratius (examining the sword). Drops of blood stain the handle, but here are the arms of his house! It is the sword of Count Henry!

      He alone among you all has kept his plighted faith; to him be endless glory—to you, traitors, the guillotine!

      General Bianchetti, you will see that the fortress of the Holy Trinity is razed to the ground, and will also superintend the execution of the prisoners!

      Leonard!

      He withdraws with Leonard.

      A bastion on the north tower. Pancratius, Leonard.

      Leonard. You require repose after so many sleepless nights; you look wearied and exhausted with ceaseless labor.

      Pancratius.

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