WORM (ironically). By all means go to the duke! You can really do nothing more prudent; I advise you heartily to the step. Only go, and I give you my word that the duke will grant your suit.
LOUISA (stopping suddenly). What said you? Do you yourself advise the step? (Returns hastily). What am I about to do? Something wicked surely, since this man approves it-how know you that the prince will grant my suit?
WORM. Because he will not have to grant it unrewarded.
LOUISA. Not unrewarded? And what price does he set on his humanity?
WORM. The person of the fair suppliant will be payment enough !
LOUISA (stopping for a moment in mute dismay-in a feeble voice). Almighty God!
WORM. And I trust that you will not think your father's life over-valued when 'tis purchased at so gracious a price.
LOUISA (with great indignation). True, oh! true! The great are entrenched from truth behind their own vices, safely as behind the swords of cherubim. The Almighty protect thee, father! Your child can die- but not sin for thee.
WORM. This will be agreeable news for the poor disconsolate old man. "My Louisa," says he, "has bowed me down to the earth; but my Louisa will raise me up again." I hasten to him with your answer. (Affects to be about to depart.)
LOUISA (flies after him and holds him back). Stay! stay! one moment's patience! How nimble this Satan is, when his business is to drive humanity distracted! I have bowed him to the earth! I must raise him up again! Speak to me! Counsel me! What can I, what must I do?
WORM. There is but one means of saving him!
LOUISA. What is that means?
WORM. And your father approves of it--
LOUISA. My father? Oh! name that means.
WORM. It is easy for you to execute.
LOUISA. I know of nothing harder than infamy!
WORM. Suppose you were to release the major from his engagement?
LOUISA. Release him! Do you mock me? Do you call that a choice to which force compelled me?
WORM. You mistake me, dear girl! The major must resign you willingly, and be the first to retract his engagement.
LOUISA. That he will never do.
WORM. So it appears. Should we, do you think, have had recourse to you were it not that you alone are able to help us?
LOUISA. I cannot compel him to hate me.
WORM. We will try! Be seated.
LOUISA (drawing back). Man! What is brooding in thy artful brain?
WORM. Be seated. Here are paper, pens, and ink. Write what I dictate.
LOUISA (sitting down in the greatest uneasiness). What must I write? To whom must I write?
WORM. To your father's executioner.
LOUISA. Ah! How well thou knowest to torture souls to thy purpose. (Takes a pen.)
WORM (dictating to her). "My dear Sir (LOUISA writes with a trembling hand,) three days, three insupportable days, have already passed-already passed-since last we met."
LOUISA (starts, and lays down her pen). To whom is the letter?
WORM. To your father's executioner.
LOUISA. Oh! my God!
WORM. "But for this you must blame the major-the major-who watches me all day with the vigilance of an Argus."
LOUISA (starting up). Villany! Villany beyond all precedent! To whom is the letter?
WORM. To your father's executioner.
LOUISA (paces to and fro, wringing her hands). No, no, no! This is tyrannical! Oh Heaven! If mortals provoke thee, punish them like mortals; but wherefore must I be placed between two precipices? Wherefore am I hurled by turns from death to infamy, from infamy to death? Wherefore is my neck made the footstool of this blood-sucking fiend? No; do what thou wilt, I will never write that!
WORM (seizing his hat). As you please, miss! It rests entirely on your own pleasure!
LOUISA. Pleasure, say'st thou? On my own pleasure? Go, barbarian! Suspend some unfortunate over the pit of hell; then make your demands, and ask your victim if it be his pleasure to grant your request! Oh! Thou knowest but too well that the bonds of nature bind our hearts as firmly as chains! But all is now alike indifferent. Dictate! I cease to think! Artifices of hell, I yield to ye! (She resumes her seat at the table.)
WORM. "With the vigilance of an Argus." Have you written it?
LOUISA. Proceed, proceed!
WORM. "The president was here yesterday. It was amusing to see how warm the poor major was in defence of my honor."
LOUISA. Excellent! Excellent! Oh! Admirable! Quick! quick, go on!
WORM. "I had recourse to a swoon-a swoon-that I might not laugh aloud"--
LOUISA. Oh, Heavens!
WORM. "But the mask which I have worn so long is becoming insupportable -insupportable. Oh! if I could but rid myself of him."
LOUISA (rises, and walks a few turns with her head bent down, as if she sought something upon the floor: then returns to her place, and continues to write). "Rid myself of him."
WORM. "He will be on duty to-morrow-observe when he leaves me, and hasten to the usual place." Have you written "the usual place?"
LOUISA. Everything, everything!
WORM. "To the usual place, to meet your devotedly attached Louisa."
LOUISA. Now then, the address?
WORM. "To Marshal von Kalb."
LOUISA. Eternal Providence! A name as foreign to my ear as these scandalous lines are to my heart! (She rises, and for some moments surveys the writing with a vacant gaze. At length she hands it to WORM, speaking in a voice trembling and exhausted.) Take it, Sir! What I now put into your hands is my good name. It is Ferdinand-it is the whole joy of my life! You have it, and now I am a beggar--
WORM. Oh! Not so! Despair not, dear girl! You inspire me with the most heartfelt pity! Perhaps-who knows? I might even now overlook certain parts of your conduct-yes! Heaven is my witness, how deeply I compassionate your sorrows!
LOUISA (giving him a piercing look). Do not explain yourself! You are on the point of asking something more terrible than all.
WORM (attempting to kiss her hand). What if I asked this little hand? Would that be terrible, Louisa?
LOUISA (with great indignation). Yes! for I should strangle you on the bridal night: and for such a deed I would joyfully yield my body to be torn on the rack! (She is going, but comes hurriedly back.) Is all settled between us, sir? May the dove be released?
WORM. A trifle yet remains, maiden! You must swear, by the holy sacrament, to acknowledge this letter for your free and voluntary act.
LOUISA. Oh God! Oh God! And wilt thou grant thine own seal to confirm the works of hell? (WORM leads her away.)
ACT IV.
SCENE I. Saloon in the PRESIDENT'S House.
FERDINAND VON WALTER enters in great excitement with an open letter
in his hand, and is met by a SERVANT.
FERDINAND. Is the marshal here?
SERVANT. My lord, his highness the president is inquiring for you.
FERDINAND. Fire and fury! I ask is the marshal here?