Poems [55]
the usual side-entrances. On the left hand is a row of long, old-fashioned windows, with painting-screens so arranged as to let the light fall obliquely on the tables beneath; at which the FACTORY GIRLS are seated, employed in painting various articles of porcelain. SOPHIA MANSFIELD is seated at the table nearest the audience. On the right are separate tables, at which GIRLS are employed mixing and grinding colors. In the center of the stage is a small platform, on which a number of painted vases, ready for the oven, are placed. KARL is engaged in examining them. At the rear of the stage is the entrance to the room--a large open door--on each side of which are rows of shelves, filled with vases, bowls, plates, jars, mantel ornaments, and the like, put there to dry. The whole representing the painting-room of the Royal Porcelain Factory. Through the doors the furnaces are seen, on which the porcelain is placed to set the colors, and which several WORKMEN are attending. The curtain rises slowly to the music.
CHORUS. (German air.) Home, home, home-- Dear, lost home! Though here we pine in slavery, Our hearts are all in Saxony, Our girlhood's happy home!
Land of the free and bold, To hopeless bondage sold! While abject toil and fear Enchain thy daughters here, We yearn for thee, O Saxony!-- For freedom, love, and home!
(The GIRLS attempt to waltz to the music; but, overcome by their feelings, they resume their tasks.)
SOLO--SOPHIA. Home, home, home-- Dear, lost home! Though cares oppress us fearfully, We exiles carol cheerfully Of girlhood's happy home!
Beneath our native sky, The hours went swiftly by; While on a foreign soil, Our youth consumes in toil! We yearn for thee, O Saxony!-- For freedom, love, and home!
(The GIRLS attempt to waltz, as before, etc.)
CHORUS. Home, home, home, etc.
(The WORKMEN and the GIRLS resume their tasks.)
(Enter Count LANISKA, ALBERT, and WEDGEWOOD.)
WEDGEWOOD (looking around, and speaking enthusiastically as he enters.) Admirable, upon my word! Every department better than the last, and this the best of all! Never saw anything like it. The colors brilliant--the designs exquisitely classical--"a place for everything, and everything in its place!"
COUNT. Whatever His Majesty constructs, whether a fortress or a factory, is perfect in all its details.
WEDGEWOOD. Yet look around, and read your monarch's history in the eyes of these prisoners of war. Observe that picture of melancholy (pointing to SOPHIA, who, during the scene, has been leaning dejectedly on her hand.--KARL standing by her side.) How reluctantly she pursues her task! Our English manufacturers work in quite another manner, for they are free!
KARL. And are free men or free women never indisposed?--or do you Englishmen blame your king whenever any of his subjects turn pale? The woman at whom you are looking is evidently ill.
WEDGEWODD. The fie upon your inhumanity for making a poor, sick girl work when she seems scarcely able to hold up her head! (Aside.) I don't half like that fellow. Villainously odd.
ALBERT (to SOPHIA.) My poor girl, what is the matter with you. The overseer says that, since you came here, you have done nothing worthy of your pencil. Yet this charming piece (pointing to an ornament on her painting)--which was brought from Saxony is of your design--is it not?
SOPHIA. Yes, sir, it was my misfortune to paint it. If the king had never seen or liked it, I should now be--
ALBERT. In Saxony; but forget that country, and you may be happy in this.
SOPHIA. I can not forget it!--I can not forget everybody that I ever loved. Ask not a Saxon woman to forget her country!
ALBERT. Whom do you love in Saxony now?
SOPHIA. Whom do I NOT love in Saxony? I have a brother there, whom I have not seen since childhood. He was at college when I was carried off from the cottage in which we both were born. He is ignorant of my fate. (She regards ALBERT with great attention, and examines his
CHORUS. (German air.) Home, home, home-- Dear, lost home! Though here we pine in slavery, Our hearts are all in Saxony, Our girlhood's happy home!
Land of the free and bold, To hopeless bondage sold! While abject toil and fear Enchain thy daughters here, We yearn for thee, O Saxony!-- For freedom, love, and home!
(The GIRLS attempt to waltz to the music; but, overcome by their feelings, they resume their tasks.)
SOLO--SOPHIA. Home, home, home-- Dear, lost home! Though cares oppress us fearfully, We exiles carol cheerfully Of girlhood's happy home!
Beneath our native sky, The hours went swiftly by; While on a foreign soil, Our youth consumes in toil! We yearn for thee, O Saxony!-- For freedom, love, and home!
(The GIRLS attempt to waltz, as before, etc.)
CHORUS. Home, home, home, etc.
(The WORKMEN and the GIRLS resume their tasks.)
(Enter Count LANISKA, ALBERT, and WEDGEWOOD.)
WEDGEWOOD (looking around, and speaking enthusiastically as he enters.) Admirable, upon my word! Every department better than the last, and this the best of all! Never saw anything like it. The colors brilliant--the designs exquisitely classical--"a place for everything, and everything in its place!"
COUNT. Whatever His Majesty constructs, whether a fortress or a factory, is perfect in all its details.
WEDGEWOOD. Yet look around, and read your monarch's history in the eyes of these prisoners of war. Observe that picture of melancholy (pointing to SOPHIA, who, during the scene, has been leaning dejectedly on her hand.--KARL standing by her side.) How reluctantly she pursues her task! Our English manufacturers work in quite another manner, for they are free!
KARL. And are free men or free women never indisposed?--or do you Englishmen blame your king whenever any of his subjects turn pale? The woman at whom you are looking is evidently ill.
WEDGEWODD. The fie upon your inhumanity for making a poor, sick girl work when she seems scarcely able to hold up her head! (Aside.) I don't half like that fellow. Villainously odd.
ALBERT (to SOPHIA.) My poor girl, what is the matter with you. The overseer says that, since you came here, you have done nothing worthy of your pencil. Yet this charming piece (pointing to an ornament on her painting)--which was brought from Saxony is of your design--is it not?
SOPHIA. Yes, sir, it was my misfortune to paint it. If the king had never seen or liked it, I should now be--
ALBERT. In Saxony; but forget that country, and you may be happy in this.
SOPHIA. I can not forget it!--I can not forget everybody that I ever loved. Ask not a Saxon woman to forget her country!
ALBERT. Whom do you love in Saxony now?
SOPHIA. Whom do I NOT love in Saxony? I have a brother there, whom I have not seen since childhood. He was at college when I was carried off from the cottage in which we both were born. He is ignorant of my fate. (She regards ALBERT with great attention, and examines his