Poems [50]
KARL. You have a sharp wit, which I lack, comrade.
HAROLD (sarcastically.) And I've another thing which you lack--COMRADE.
KARL. What may that be?
HAROLD. A clear conscience, my old boy!
[Exit HAROLD into tent
KARL. Does he suspect? No--sleeping and waking I have concealed this (his arm) damning evidence of my guilt. The mark of Cain I bear about me is known to none, and the secret dies with me.--For that young Pole, Sophia scorns me; but let him beware!--My revenge, though slow, is sure!
(KARL turns to go; but perceiving Count Laniska advancing, he retires to a tent. Enter LANISKA, who notices KARL in the distance.)
SONG--LANISKA. When I behold that lowering brow, Which indicates the mind within, I marvel much that woman's vow A man like that could ever win! Yet it is said, in rustic bower, (The fable I have often heard) A serpent has mysterious power To captivate a timid bird.
This precept then I sadly trace-- That love's a fluttering thing of air; And yonder lurks the viper base, Who would my gentle bird ensnare! 'Twas in the shades of Eden's bower This fascination had its birth, And even there possessed the power To lure the paragon of earth!
(At the conclusion of the song, KARL, is about to retire. LANISKA addresses him.)
COUNT. Come hither, Karl.
KARL. I await upon your leisure, count.
COUNT. I would have some words with you.
KARL. You may not relish the frankness of my manner.
COUNT. Indeed!
KARL. Look you, Count Laniska; I am a plain, blunt, straight-forward, rough-spoken fellow, and a soldier like yourself. I know my rights; and, knowing, will maintain them. It was by the king's permission and authority that I chose Sophia Mansfield for my bride--
COUNT. She has rejected you.
KARL. What has that to do with the matter? Women are often perverse, and not always the best judges of their own welfare; and you know she MUST be mine--
COUNT. Must?--
KARL. Yes, MUST. I have the king's promise, and Frederick was never known to break his word.
COUNT. You surely will not marry her against her will?
KARL. Why not? Sophia is the only woman I ever loved: and now that I have her sure, think you I will resign her?
COUNT. And think you the king will force an angel into the arms of a monster? He can not be so great a tyrant--
KARL. Tyrant!
COUNT. Yes. Man was created to cherish woman, not to oppress her; and he is the worst of tyrants who would injure that sex whom heave ordains it his duty to protect.
KARL. Apply you this to the king?
COUNT. To the king, or to any HE in Christendom, who would use his power to oppress the unfortunate! But come, sir, we will not dispute about a hasty word--we have higher duties to perform.
KARL. True, count; we oppose our weapons to the enemies of our country, not the bosoms of our friends. I say OUR country; for, although you were born in Poland, and I in Hungary, Frederick has made Prussia almost as dear to us as our native land, TYRANT though he may be.--But we will not quarrel about a single captive, when the king has placed so many at the disposal of those who fight his battles. [Trumpet sounds without.
(Enter HAROLD with dispatches.)
HAROLD (to COUNT.) Dispatches from the king. (Aside.) And a letter from Sophia Mansfield. [Exit.
(The COUNT receives and examines the dispatches; kisses SOPHIA's letter, and puts it into his bosom. KARL does not notice it.)
DUET--COUNT AND KARL. 'Tis a soldier's rigid duty Orders strictly to obey; Let not, then the smile of beauty Lure us from the camp away. In our country's cause united, Gallantly we'll take the field; But, the victory won, delighted Singly to the fair we yield!
Soldiers who have ne'er retreated, Beauty's tear will sure beguile; Hearts that armies ne'er defeated, Love can conquer with a smile. Who would strive to live in story, Did not woman's hand prepare Amaranthine wreaths of glory Which the valiant proudly wear?
[Exit the COUNT. KARL follows, menacing him.
Scene III.
An apartment