N Maggot-Wise Jews Breed, Infest, Infect Communities Of Christians, To Wash Clean The Church'S Vesture, Shaking Off The Filth That Gathers Round Her Skirts. A Perilous Germ! Know You Not, All The Wells, The Very Air The Jews Have Poisoned? - Through Their Arts Alone The Black Death Scourges Christendom. Princess. I Know All Heinousness Imputed By Their Foes. Father, Mistake Me Not: I Urge No Plea To Shield This Hell-Spawn, Loathed By All Who Love The Lamb And Kiss The Cross. I Had Not Guessed Such Obscure Creatures Crawled Upon My Path, Had Not My Son - I Know Not How Misled - Deigned To Ennoble With His Great Regard, A Sparkle Midst The Dust Motes. She Is Sacred. What Is Her Tribe To Me? Her Kith And Kin May Rot Or Roast - The Jews Of Nordhausen May Hang, Drown, Perish Like The Jews Of France, But She Shall Live - Liebhaid Von Orb, The Jewess, The Prince, My Son, Elects To Love. Prior. Amen! Washed In Baptismal Waters She Shall Be Led Like The Clean-Fleeced Yeanling To The Fold. Trust Me, My Daughter - For Through Me The Church Which Is The Truth, Which Is The Life, Doth Speak. Yet First 'T Were Best Essay To Cure The Prince Of This Moon-Fostered Madness, Bred, No Doubt, By Baneful Potions Which These Cunning Knaves Are Skilled To Mix. Princess. Go Visit Him, Dear Father, Where In The High Tower Mewed, A Wing-Clipped Eagle, His Spirit Breaks In Cage. You Are His Master, He Is Wont From Childhood To Hear Wisdom Fall From Your Instructed Lips. Tell Him His Mother Rises Not From Her Knees, Till He Is Freed. Prior. Madam, I Go. Our Holy Church Has Healed Far Deadlier Heart-Wounds Than A Love-Sick Boy'S. Be Of Good Cheer, The Prince Shall Live To Bless The Father'S Rigor Who Kept Pure Of Blot A 'Scutcheon More Unsullied Than The Sun. Princess. Thanks And Farewell. Prior. Farewell. God Send Thee Peace! [Exeunt.] Scene Iii. A Mean Apartment In One Of The Towers Of The Landgrave'S Palace. Prince William Discovered Seated At The Window. Prince William. The Slow Sun Sets; With Lingering, Large Embrace He Folds The Enchanted Hill; Then Like A God Strides Into Heaven Behind The Purple Peak. Oh Beautiful! In The Clear, Rayless Air, I See The Chequered Vale Mapped Far Below, The Sky-Paved Streams, The Velvet Pasture-Slopes, The Grim, Gray Cloister Whose Deep Vesper Bell Blends At This Height With Tinkling, Homebound Herds! I See - But Oh, How Far! - The Blessed Town Where Liebhaid Dwells. Oh That I Were Yon Star That Pricks The West'S Unbroken Foil Of Gold, Bright As An Eye, Only To Gaze On Her! How Keen It Sparkles O'Er The Venusburg! When Brown Night Falls And Mists Begin To Live, Then Will The Phantom Hunting-Train Emerge, Hounds Straining, Black Fire-Eyeballed, Breathless Steeds, Spurred By Wild Huntsmen, And Unhallowed Nymphs, And At Their Head The Foam-Begotten Witch, Of Soul-Destroying Beauty. Saints Of Heaven! Preserve Mine Eyes From Such Unholy Sight! How All Unlike The Base Desire Which Leads Misguided Men To That Infernal Cave, Is The Pure Passion That Exalts My Soul Like A Religion! Yet Christ Pardon Me If This Be Sin To Thee! [He Takes His Lute, And Begins To Sing. Enter With A Lamp Steward Of The Castle, Followed By Prior Peppercorn. Steward Lays Down The Lamp And Exit.] Good Even, Father! Prior. Benedicite! Our Bird Makes Merry His Dull Bars With Song, Yet Would Not Penitential Psalms Accord More Fitly With Your Sin Than Minstrels' Lays? Prince William. I Know No Blot Upon My Life'S Fair Record. Prior. What Is It To Wanton With A Christ-Cursed Jewess, Defy Thy Father And Pollute Thy Name, And Fling To The Ordures Thine Immortal Soul? Prince William. Forbear! Thy Cowl'S A Helmet, Thy Serge Frock Invulnerable As Brass - Yet I Am Human, Thou, Priest, Art Still A Man. Prior. Pity Him, Heaven! To What A Pass Their Draughts Have Brought The Mildest, Noblest Of Princes! Softly, My Son; Be Ruled By Me, Thy Spiritual Friend And Father. Thou Hast Been Drugged With Sense-Deranging Potions, Thy Blood Set Boiling And Thy Brain Askew; When These Thick Fumes Subside, Thou Shalt Awake To Bless The Friend Who Gave Thy Madness Bounds. Prince William. Madness! Yea, As The Sane World Goes, I Am Mad. What Else To Help The Helpless, To Uplift The Low, To Adore The Good, The Beautiful, To Live, Battle, Suffer, Die For Truth, For Love! But That Is Wide Of The Question. Let Me Hear What You Are Charged To Impart - My Father'S Will. Prior. Heart-Cleft By His Dear Offspring'S Shame, He Prays Your Reason Be Restored, Your Wayward Sense Renew Its Due Allegiance. For His Son He, The Good Parent, Weeps - Hot Drops Of Gall, Wrung From A Spirit Seldom Eased By Tears. But For His Honor Pricked, The Landgrave Takes More Just And General Vengeance. Prince William. In The Name Of God, What Has He Done To Her? Prior. Naught, Naught, - As Yet. Sweet Prince, Be Calm; You Leap Like Flax To Flame. You Nest Within Your Heart A Cockatrice, Pluck It From Out Your Bosom And Breathe Pure Of The Filthy Egg. The Landgrave Brooks No More The Abomination That Infects His Town. The Jews Of Nordhausen Are Doomed. Prince William. Alack! Who And How Many Of That Harmless Tribe, Those Meek And Pious Men, Have Been Elected To Glut With Innocent Blood The Oppressor'S Wrath? Prior. Who Should Go Free Where Equal Guilt Is Shared? Frederick Is Just - They Perish All At Once, Generous Moreover - For In Their Mode Of Death He Grants Them Choice. Prince William. My Father Had Not Lost The Human Semblance When I Saw Him Last. Nor Can He Be Divorced In This Short Space From His Shrewd Wit. How Shall He Make Provision For The Vast Widowed, Orphaned Host This Deed Burdens The State Withal? Prior. Oh Excellent! This Is The Crown Of Folly, Topping All! Forgive Me, Prince, When I Gain Breath To Point Your Comic Blunder, You Will Laugh With Me. Patience - I'll Draw My Chin As Long As Yours. Well, 'T Was My Fault - One Should Be Accurate - Jews, Said I? When I Meant Jews, Jewesses, And Jewlings! All Betwixt The Age Of Twenty-Four Hours, And Of Five Score Years. Of Either Sex, Of Every Known Degree, All The Contaminating Vermin Purged With One Clean, Searching Blast Of Wholesome Fire. Prince William. O Christ, Disgraced, Insulted! Horrible Man, Remembered Be Your Laugh In Lowest Hell, Dragging You To The Nether Pit! Forgive Me; You Are My Friend - Take Me From Here - Unbolt Those Iron Doors - I'll Crawl Upon My Knees Unto My Father - I Have Much To Tell Him. For But The Freedom Of One Hour, Sweet Prior, I'll Brim The Vessels Of The Church With Gold. Prior. Boy! Your Bribes Touch Not, Nor Your Curses Shake The Minister Of Christ. Yet I Will Bear Your Message To The Landgrave. Prince William. Whet Your Tongue Keen As The Archangel'S Blade Of Truth - Your Voice Be As God'S Thunder, And Your Heart One Blaze - Then Can You Speak My Cause. With Me, It Needs No Plausive Gift; The Smitten Head, Stopped Throat, Blind Eyes And Silent Suppliance Of Sorrow Persuade Beyond All Eloquence. Great God! Here While I Rage And Beat Against My Bars, The Infernal Fagots May Be Stacked For Her, The Hell-Spark Kindled. Go To Him, Dear Prior, Speak To Him Gently, Be Not Too Much Moved, 'Neath Its Rude Case You Had Ever A Soft Heart, And He Is Stirred By Mildness More Than Passion. Recall To Him Her Round, Clear, Ardent Eyes, The Shower Of Sunshine That's Her Hair, The Sheen Of The Cream-White Flesh - Shall These Things Serve As Fuel? Tell Him That When She Heard Once He Was Wounded, And How He Bled And Anguished; At The Tale She Wept For Pity. Prior. If Her Love Be True She Will Adore Her Lover'S God, Embrace The Faith That Marries You In Life And Death. This Promise With The Landgrave Would Prevail More Than All Sobs And Pleadings. Prince William. Save Her, Save Her! If Any Promise, Vow, Or Oath Can Serve. Oh Trusting, Tranquil Susskind, Who Estopped Your Ears Forewarned, Bandaged Your Visioned Eyes, To Woo Destruction! Stay! Did He Not Speak Of Amulet Or Talisman? These Horrors Have Crowded Out My Wits. Yea, The Gold Casket! What Fixed Serenity Beamed From His Brow, Laying The Precious Box Within My Hands! [He Brings From The Shelf The Casket, And Hands It To The Prior.] Deliver This Unto The Prince My Father, Nor Lose One Vital Moment. What It Holds, I Guess Not - But My Light Heart Whispers Me The Jewel Safety'S Locked Beneath Its Lid. Prior. First I Must Foil Such Devil'S Tricks As Lurk In Its Gem-Crusted Cabinet. Prince William. Away! Deliverance Posts On Your Return. I Feel It. For Your Much Comfort Thanks. Good-Night. Prior. Good-Night. [Exit.] Act Iii. A Cell In The Wartburg Monastery. Enter Prior Peppercorn With The Casket. Prior. So! Glittering Shell Where Doubtless Shines Concealed An Orient Treasure Fit To Bribe A King, Ransom A Prince And Buy Him For A Son. I Have Baptized Thee Now Before The Altar, Effaced The Jew'S Contaminating Touch, And I Am Free To Claim The Church'S Tithe From Thy Receptacle. [He Is About To Unlock The Casket, When Enters Lay-Brother, And He Hastily Conceals It.] Lay-Brother. Peace Be Thine, Father! Prior. Amen! And Thine. What'S New? Lay-Brother. A Strange Flagellant Fresh Come To Wartburg Craves A Word With Thee. Prior. Bid Him Within. [Exit Lay-Brother. Prior Places The Casket In A Cabinet.] Patience! No Hour Of The Day Brings Freedom To The Priest. Reenter Lay-Brother Ushering In Nordmann, And Exit. Brother, All Hail! Blessed Be Thou Who Comest In God'S Name! Nordmann. May The Lord Grant Thee Thine Own Prayer Fourfold! Prior. What Is Thine Errand? Nordmann. Look At Me, My Father. Long Since You Called Me Friend. [The Prior Looks At Him Attentively, While An Expression Of Wonder And Terror Gradually Overspreads His Face.] Prior. Almighty God! The Grave Gives Up Her Dead. Thou Canst Not Be - Nordmann. Nordmann Of Nordmannstein, The Knight Of Treffurt. Prior. He Was Beheaded Years Agone. Nordmann. His Death Had Been Decreed, But In His Stead A Squire Clad In His Garb And Masked, Paid Bloody Forfeit. A Loyal Wretch On Whom The Prince Wreaked Vengeance, Rather Than Publish The True Bird Had Flown. Prior. Does Frederick Know Thou Art In Eisenach? Nordmann. Who Would Divine The Knight Of Nordmannstein In The Flagellants' Weeds? From Land To Land, From Town To Town, We Cry, "Death To The Jews! Hep! Hep! "Hierosolyma Est Perdita!" They Die Like Rats; In Gotha They Are Burned; Two Of The Devil Brutes In Chatelard, Child-Murderers, Wizards, Breeders Of The Plague, Had The Truth Squeezed From Them With Screws And Racks, All With Explicit Date, Place, Circumstance, And Written As It Fell From Dying Lips By Scriveners Of The Law. On Their Confession The Jews Of Savoy Were Destroyed. To-Morrow Noon The Holy Flames Shall Dance In Nordhausen. Prior. Your Zeal Bespeaks You Fair. In Your Deep Eyes A Mystic Fervor Shines; Yet Your Scarred Flesh And Shrunken Limbs Denote Exhausted Nature, Collapsing Under Discipline. Nordmann. Speak Not Of The Degrading Body And Its Pangs. I Am All Zeal, All Energy, All Spirit. Jesus Was Wroth At Me, At All The World, For Our Indulgence Of The Flesh, Our Base Compounding With His Enemies The Jews. But At Madonna Mary'S Intercession, He Charged An Angel With This Gracious Word, "Whoso Will Scourge Himself For Forty Days, And Labor Towards The Clean Extermination Of Earth'S Corrupting Vermin, Shall Be Saved." Oh, What Vast Peace This Message Brought My Soul! I Have Learned To Love The Ecstasy Of Pain. When The Sweat Stands Upon My Flesh, The Blood Throbs In My Bursting Veins, My Twisted Muscles Are Cramped With Agony, I Seem To Crawl Anigh His Feet Who Suffered On The Cross. Prior. O All Transforming Time! Can This Be He, The Iron Warrior Of A Decade Since, The Gallant Youth Of Earlier Years, Whose Pranks And Reckless Buoyancy Of Temper Flashed Clear Sunshine Through My Gloom? Nordmann. I Am Unchanged (Save That The Spirit Of Grace Has Fallen On Me). Urged By One Motive Through These Banished Years, Fed By One Hope, Awake To Realize One Living Dream - My Long Delayed Revenge. You Saw The Day When Henry Schnetzen'S Castle Was Razed With Fire? Prior. I Saw It. Nordmann. Schnetzen'S Wife, Three Days A Mother, Perished. Prior. And His Child? Nordmann. His Child Was Saved. Prior. By Whom? Nordmann. By The Same Jew Who Had Betrayed The Castle. Prior. Susskind Von Orb? Nordmann. Susskind Von Orb! And Schnetzen'S Daughter Lives As The Jew'S Child Within The Judengasse. Prior (Eagerly). What Proof Hast Thou Of This? Nordmann. Proof Of These Eyes! I Visited Von Orb To Ask A Loan. There Saw I Such A Maiden As No Jew Was Ever Blessed Withal Since Jesus Died. White As A Dove, With Hair Like Golden Floss, Eyes Like An Alpine Lake. The Haughty Line Of Brow Imperial, High Bridged Nose, Fine Chin, Seemed Like The Shadow Cast Upon The Wall, Where Lady Schnetzen Stood. Prior. Why Hast Thou Ne'Er Discovered Her To Schnetzen? Nordmann. He Was My Friend. I Shared With Him Thirst, Hunger, Sword, And Fire. But He Became A Courtier. When The Margrave Sent Me His Second Challenge To The Field, His Messenger Was Schnetzen! 'Mongst His Knights, The Apple Of His Eye Was Henry Schnetzen. He Was The Hound That Hunted Me To Death. He Stood By Frederick'S Side When I Was Led, Bound, To The Presence. I Denounced Him Coward, He Smote Me On The Cheek. Christ! It Stings Yet. He Hissed - "My Liege, Let Henry Nordmann Hang! He Is No Knight, For He Receives A Blow, Nor Dare Avenge It!" My Gyved Wrists Moved Not, No Nerve Twitched In My Face, Although I Felt Flame Leap There From My Heart, Then Flying Back, Leave It Cold-Bathed With Deathly Ooze - My Soul In Silence Took Her Supreme Vow Of Hate. Prior. Praise Be To God That Thou Hast Come To-Day. To-Morrow Were Too Late. Hast Thou Not Heard Frederick Sends Schnetzen Unto Nordhausen, With Fire And Torture For The Jews? Nordmann. So! Henry Schnetzen Shall Be The Jews' Destroyer? Ah! Prior. One Moment. Mayhap This Box Which Susskind Sends The Prince Reveals More Wonders. [He Brings Forth The Casket From The Cabinet, Opens It, And Discovers A Golden Cross And A Parchment Which He Hastily Overlooks.] Hark! Your Word'S Confirmed Blessed Be Christ, Our Lord! (Reads). "I Susskind Von Orb Of Nordhausen, Swear By The Unutterable Name, That On The Day When The Castle Of Salza Was Burned, I Rescued The Infant Daughter Of Henry Schnetzen From The Flames. I Purposed Restoring Her To Her Father, But When I Returned To Nordhausen, I Found My Own Child Lying On Her Bier, And My Wife In Fevered Frenzy Calling For Her Babe. I Sought The Leech, Who Counselled Me To Show The Christian Child To The Bereaved Mother As Her Own. The Pious Trick Prevailed; The Fever Broke, The Mother Was Restored. But Never Would She Part With The Child, Even When She Had Learned To Whom It Belonged, And Until She Was Gathered With The Dead - May Peace Be With Her Soul! - She Fostered In Our Jewish Home The Offspring Of The Gentile Knight. Then Again Would I Have Yielded The Girl To Her Parent, But Schnetzen Was My Foe, And I Feared The Haughty Baron Would Disown The Daughter Who Came From The Hands Of The Jew. Now However The Maiden'S Temporal Happiness Demands That She Be Acknowledged By Her Rightful Father. Let Him See What I Have Written. As A Token, Behold This Golden Cross, Bound By The Lady Schnetzen Round The Infant'S Neck. May The God Of Abraham, Isaac, And Jacob Redeem And Bless Me As I Have Writ The Truth." Prior. I Thank The Saints That This Has Come Betimes. Thou Shalt Renounce Thy Hate. Vengeance Is Mine, The Lord Hath Said. Nordmann. O All-Transforming Time! Is This Meek, Saintly-Hypocrite, The Firm, Ambitious, Resolute Reinhard Peppercorn, Terror Of Jews And Beacon Of The Church? Look, You, I Have Won The Special Grace Of Christ, He Knows Through What Fierce Anguish! Now He Leans Out Of His Heaven To Whisper In Mine Ear, And Reach Me My Revenge. He Makes My Cause His Own - And I Shall Fail Upon These Heights, Sink From The Level Of A Hate Sublime, To Puerile Pity! Prior. Be Advised. You Hold Your Enemy'S Living Heart Within Your Hands. This Secret Is Far Costlier Than You Dreamed, For Frederick'S Son Wooes Schnetzen'S Daughter. See, A Hundred Delicate Springs Your Wit May Move, Your Puppets Are The Landgrave And The Prince, The Governor Of Salza And The Jews. You May Recover Station, Wealth, And Honor, Selling Your Secret Shrewdly; While Rash Greed Of Clumsy Vengeance May But Drag You Down In The Wild Whirl Of Universal Ruin. Nordmann. Christ Teach Me Whom To Trust! I Would Not Spill One Drop From Out This Brimming Glorious Cup For Which My Parched Heart Pants. I Will Consider. Prior. Pardon Me Now, If I Break Off Our Talk. Let All Rest As It Stands Until The Dawn. I Have Many Orisons Before The Light. Nordmann. Good-Night, True Friend. Devote A Prayer To Me. (Aside.) I Will Outwit You, Serpent, Though You Glide Athwart The Dark, Noiseless And Swift As Fate. [Exit]. Scene Ii. On The Road To Nordhausen. Moonlit, Rocky Landscape. On The Right Between High, White Cliffs A Narrow Stream Spanned By A Wooden Bridge. Thick Bushes And Trees. Enter Prince William And Page. Prince William. Is This The Place Where We Shall Find Fresh Steeds? Would I Had Not Dismounted! Page. Nay, Sir; Beyond The Werra Bridge The Horses Wait For Us. These Rotten Planks Would Never Bear Their Weight. Prince William. When I Am Landgrave These Things Shall Be Cared For. This Is An Ugly Spot For Travellers To Loiter In. How Swift The Water Runs, Brawling Above Our Voices. Human Cries Would Never Reach Liborius' Convent Yonder, Perched On The Sheer, Chalk Cliff. I Think Of Peril, From My Excess Of Joy. My Spirit Chafes, She That Would Breast Broad-Winged The Air, Must Halt On Stumbling Mortal Limbs. Look, Thither, Boy, How The Black Shadows Of The Tree-Boles Stripe The Moon-Blanched Bridge And Meadow. Page. Sir, What'S That? Yon Stir And Glitter In The Bush? Prince William. The Moon, Pricking The Dewdrops, Plays Fantastic Tricks With Objects Most Familiar. Look Again, And Where Thou Sawst The Steel-Blue Flicker Glint, Thou Findst A Black, Wet Leaf. Page. No, No! O God! Your Sword, Sir! Treason! [Four Armed Masked Men Leap From Out The Bush, Seize, Bind, And Overmaster, After A Brief But Violent Resistance, The Prince And His Servant.] Prince William. Who Are Ye, Villains? Lying In Murderous Ambush For The Prince Of Meissen? If You Be Knights, Speak Honorably Your Names, And I Will Combat You In Knightly Wise. If Ye Be Robbers, Name Forthwith Your Ransom. Let Me But Speed Upon My Journey Now. By Christ'S Blood! I Beseech You, Let Me Go! Ho! Treason! Murder! Help! [He Is Dragged Off Struggling. Exeunt Omnes.] Scene Iii. Nordhausen. A Room In Susskind'S House. Liebhaid And Claire. Liebhaid. Say On, Poor Girl, If But To Speak These Horrors Revive Not Too Intense A Pang. Claire. Not So. For All My Woes Seem Here To Merge Their Flood Into A Sea Of Infinite Repose. Through France Our Journey Led, As I Have Told, From Desolation Unto Desolation. Naught Stayed My Father'S Course - Sword, Storm, Flame, Plague, Exhaustion Of The Eighty Year Old Frame, O'Ertaxed Beyond Endurance. Once, Once Only, His Divine Force Succumbed. 'T Was At Day'S Close, And All The Air Was One Discouragement Of April Snow-Flakes. I Was Drenched, Cold, Sick, With Weariness And Hunger Light Of Head, And On The Open Road, Suddenly Turned The Whole World Like The Spinning Flakes Of Snow. My Numb Hand Slipped From His, And All Was Blank. His Beard, His Breath Upon My Brow, His Tears Scalding My Cheek Hugged Close Against His Breast, And In My Ear Deep Groans Awoke Me. "God!" I Heard Him Cry, "Try Me Not Past My Strength. No Prophet I, A Blind, Old Dying Man!" Gently I Drew His Face To Mine, And Kissed, Whispering Courage - Then His Spirit Broke Utterly; Shattered Were His Wits, I Feared. But Past Is Past; He Is At Peace, And I Find Shelter From The Tempest. Tell Me Rather Of Your Serene Life. Liebhaid. Happiness Is Mute. What Record Speaks Of Placid, Golden Days, Matched Each With Each As Twins? Till Yester Eve My Life Was Simple As A Song. At Whiles Dark Tales Have Reached Us Of Our People'S Wrongs, Strange, Far-Off Anguish, Furrowing With Fresh Care My Father'S Brow, Draping Our Home With Gloom. We Were Still Blessed; The Landgrave Is His Friend - The Prince - My Prince - Dear Claire, Ask Me No More! My Adored Enemy, My Angel-Fiend, Splitting My Heart Against My Heart! O God, How Shall I Pray For Strength To Love Him Less Than Mine Own Soul? Claire. What Mean These Contrary Words? These Passionate Tears? Liebhaid. Brave Girl, Who Art Inured To Difficult Privation And Rude Pain, What Good Shall Come Forswearing Kith And God, To Follow The Allurements Of The Heart? Claire. Duty Wears One Face, But A Thousand Masks. Thy Feet She Leads To Glittering Peaks, While Mine She Guides Midst Brambled Roadways. Not The First Art Thou Of Israel'S Women, Chosen Of God, To Rule O'Er Rulers. I Remember Me A Verse My Father Often Would Repeat Out Of Our Sacred Talmud: "Every Time The Sun, Moon, Stars Begin Again Their Course, They Hesitate, Trembling And Filled With Shame, Blush At The Blasphemous Worship Offered Them, And Each Time God'S Voice Thunders, Crying Out, On With Your Duty!" Enter Reuben. Reuben. Sister, We Are Lost! The Streets Are Thronged With Panic-Stricken Folk. Wild Rumors Fill The Air. Two Of Our Tribe, Young Mordecai, As I Hear, And Old Baruch, Seized By The Mob, Were Dragged Towards Eisenach, Cruelly Used, Left To Bleed Out Their Lives, In The Wayside Ditch At Night. This Morn, Betimes, The Iron-Hearted Governor Of Salza Rides Furious Into Nordhausen; His Horse, Spurred Past Endurance, Drops Before The Gate. The Council Has Been Called To Hear Him Read The Landgrave'S Message, - All Men Say, 'Tis Death Unto Our Race. Liebhaid. Where Is Our Father, Reuben? Reuben. With Rabbi Jacob. Through The Streets They Walk, Striving To Quell The Terror. Ah, Too Late! Had He But Heeded The Prophetic Voice, This Warning Angel Led To Us In Vain! Liebhaid. Brother, Be Calm. Man Your Young Heart To Front Whatever Ills The Lord Afflicts Us With. What Does Prince William? Hastes He Not To Aid? Reuben. None Know His Whereabouts. Some Say He'S Held Imprisoned By The Landgrave. Others Tell While He Was Posting With Deliverance To Nordhausen, In Bloody Schnetzen'S Wake, He Was Set Upon By Ruffians - Kidnapped - Killed. What Do I Know - Hid Till Our Ruin'S Wrought. [Liebhaid Swoons.] Claire. Hush, Foolish Boy. See How Your Rude Words Hurt. Look Up, Sweet Girl; Take Comfort. Reuben. Pluck Up Heart: Dear Sister, Pardon Me; He Lives, He Lives! Liebhaid. God Help Me! Shall My Heart Crack For Love'S Loss That Meekly Bears My People'S Martyrdom? He Lives - I Feel It - To Live Or Die With Me. I Love Him As My Soul - No More Of That. I Am All Israel'S Now - Till This Cloud Pass, I Have No Thought, No Passion, No Desire, Save For My People. Enter Susskind. Susskind. Blessed Art Thou, My Child! This Is The Darkest Hour Before The Dawn. Thou Art The Morning-Star Of Israel. How Dear Thou Art To Me - Heart Of My Heart, Mine, Mine, All Mine To-Day! The Pious Thought, The Orient Spirit Mine, The Jewish Soul. The Glowing Veins That Sucked Life-Nourishment From Hebrew Mother'S Milk. Look At Me, Liebhaid, Tell Me You Love Me. Pity Me, My God! No Fiercer Pang Than This Did Jephthah Know. Liebhaid. Father, What Wild And Wandering Words Are These? Is All Hope Lost? Susskind. Nay, God Is Good To Us. I Am So Well Assured The Town Is Safe, That I Can Weep My Private Loss - Of Thee. An Ugly Dream I Had, Quits Not My Sense, That You, Made Princess Of Thuringia, Forsook Your Father, And Forswore Your Race. Forgive Me, Liebhaid, I Am Calm Again, We Must Be Brave - I Who Besought My Tribe To Bide Their Fate In Nordhausen, And You Whom God Elects For A Peculiar Lot. With Many Have I Talked; Some Crouched At Home, Some Wringing Hands About The Public Ways. I Gave All Comfort. I Am Very Weary. My Children, We Had Best Go In And Pray, Solace And Safety Dwell But In The Lord. [Exeunt.] Act Iv. Scene I. The City Hall At Nordhausen. Deputies And Burghers Assembling. To The Right, At A Table Near The President'S Chair, Is Seated The Public Scrivener. Enter Dietrich Von Tettenborn, And Henry Schnetzen With An Open Letter In His Hand. Schnetzen. Didst Hear The Fellow'S Words Who Handed It? I Asked From Whom It Came, He Spoke By Rote, "The Pepper Bites, The Corn Is Ripe For Harvest, I Come From Eisenach." 'T Is Some Tedious Jest. Tettenborn. Doubtless Your Shrewd Friend Prior Peppercorn Masks Here Some Warning. Ask The Scrivener To Help Us To Its Contents. Schnetzen (To The Clerk). Read Me These. Scrivener (Reads). "Beware, Lord Henry Schnetzen, Of Susskind'S Lying Tongue! He Will Thrust A Cuckoo'S Egg Into Your Nest. [Signed] One Who Knows." Schnetzen. A Cuckoo'S Egg! That Riddle Puzzles Me; But This I Know. Schnetzen Is No Man'S Dupe, Much Less A Jew'S. [Schnetzen And Von Tettenborn Take Their Seats Side By Side.] Tettenborn. Knights, Counsellors And Burghers! Sir Henry Schnetzen, Governor Of Salza, Comes On Grave Mission From His Highness Frederick, Margrave Of Meissen, Landgrave Of Thuringia, Our Town'S Imperial Patron And Protector. Schnetzen. Gentles, I Greet You In The Landgrave'S Name, The Honored Bearer Of His Princely Script, Sealed With His Signet. Read, Good Master Clerk. [He Hands A Parchment To The Scrivener, Who Reads Aloud]: Lord President And Deputies Of The Town Of Nordhausen! Know That We, Frederick Margrave Of Meissen, And Landgrave Of Thuringia, Command To Be Burned All The Jews Within Our Territories As Far As Our Lands Extend, On Account Of The Great Crime They Have Committed Against Christendom In Throwing Poison Into The Wells, Of The Truth Of Which Indictment We Have Absolute Knowledge. Therefore We Admonish You To Have The Jews Killed In Honor Of God, So That Christendom Be Not Enfeebled By Them. Whatever Responsibility You Incur, We Will Assume With Our Lord The Emperor, And With All Other Lords. Know Also That We Send To You Henry Schnetzen, Our Governor Of Salza, Who Shall Publicly Accuse Your Jews Of The Above-Mentioned Crime. Therefore We Beseech You To Help Him To Do Justice Upon Them, And We Will Singularly Reward Your Good Will.* Given At Eisenach, The Thursday After St. Walpurgis, Under Our Secret Seal. *This Is An Authentic Document. A Counsellor (Diether Von Werther). Fit Silence Welcomes This Unheard-Of Wrong! So! Ye Are Men - Free, Upright, Honest Men, Not Hired Assassins? I Half Doubted It, Seeing You Lend These Infamous Words Your Ears. Schnetzen. Consider, Gentlemen Of Nordhausen, Ere Ye Give Heed To The Rash Partisan. Ye Cross The Landgrave - Well? He Crosses You. It May Be I Shall Ride To Nordhausen, Not With A Harmless Script, But With A Sword, And So Denounce The Town For Perjured Vow. What Was The Strasburg Citizens' Reward Who Championed These Lost Wretches, In The Face Of King And Kaiser - Three Against The World, Conrad Von Winterthur The Burgomaster, Deputy Gosse Sturm, And Peter Schwarber, Master Mechanic? These Leagued Fools Essayed To Stand Between The People'S Sacred Wrath, And Its Doomed Object. Well, The Jews, No Less, Were Rooted From The City Neck And Crop, And Their Three Friends Degraded From Their Rank I' The City Council, Glad To Save Their Skins. The Jews Are Foes To God. Our Holy Father Thunders His Ban From Rome Against All Such As Aid The Poisoners. Your Oath To God, And To The Prince Enjoins - Death To The Jews. A Burgher (Reinhard Rolapp). Why All This Vain Debate? The Landgrave'S Brief Affirms The Jews Fling Poison In The Wells. Shall We Stand By And Leave Them Unmolested, Till They Have Made Our Town A Wilderness? I Say, Death To The Jews! A Burgher (Hugo Schultz). My Lord And Brethren, I Have Scant Gift Of Speech, Ye Are All My Elders. Yet Hear Me For Truth'S Sake, And Liberty'S. The Landgrave Of Thuringia Is Our Patron, True - And Our Town'S Imperial Governor, But Are We Not Free Burghers? Shall We Not Debate And Act In Freedom? If Lord Schnetzen Will Force Our Council With The Sword - Enough! We Are Not Frightened Schoolboys Crouched Beneath The Master'S Rod, But Men Who Bear The Sword As Brave As He. By This Grim Messenger, Send Back This Devilish Missive. Say To Frederick Nordhausen Never Was Enfeoffed To Him. Prithee, Lord President, Bid Henry Schnetzen Withdraw Awhile, That We May All Take Counsel, According To The Hour'S Necessity, As Free Men, Whom Nor Fear Nor Favor Swerves. Tettenborn. Bold Youth, You Err. True, Nordhausen Is Free, And God Be Witness, We For Fear Or Favor, Would Never Shed The Blood Of Innocence. But Here The Prince Condemns The Jews To Death For Capital Crime. Who Sees A Snake Must Kill, Ere It Spit Fatal Venom. I, Too, Say Death To The Jews All. Death To The Jews! God Wills It! Tettenborn. Give Me Your Voices In The Urn. (The Votes Are Taken.) One Voice For Mercy, All The Rest For Death. (To An Usher.) Go Thou To The Jews' Quarter; Bid Susskind Von Orb, And Rabbi Jacob Hither To The Senate, To Hear The Landgrave'S And The Town'S Decree. [Exit Usher.] (To Schnetzen.) What Learn You Of This Evil Through The State? Schnetzen. It Swells To Monstrous Bulk. In Many Towns, Folk Build High Ramparts Round The Wells And Springs. In Some They Shun The Treacherous Sparkling Brooks, To Drink Dull Rain-Water, Or Melted Snow, In Mountain Districts. Frederick Has Been Patient, And Too Long Clement, Duped By Fleece-Cloaked Wolves. But Now His Subjects' Clamor Rouses Him To Front The General Peril. As I Hear, A Fiendish And Far-Reaching Plot Involves All Christian Thrones And Peoples. These Vile Vermin, Burrowing Underneath Society, Have Leagued With Moors In Spain, With Heretics Too Plentiful - Christ Knows! In Every Land, And Planned A Subterraneous, Sinuous Scheme, To Overthrow All Christendom. But See, Where With Audacious Brows, And Steadfast Mien, They Enter, Bold As Innocence. Now Listen, For We Shall Hear Brave Falsehoods. Enter Susskind Von Orb And Rabbi Jacob. Tettenborn. Rabbi Jacob, And Thou, Susskind Von Orb, Bow Down, And Learn The Council'S Pleasure. You The Least Despised By True Believers, And Most Reverenced By Your Own Tribe, We Grace With Our Free Leave To Enter, Yea, To Lift Your Voices Here, Amid These Wise And Honorable Men, If Ye Find Aught To Plead, That Mitigates The Just Severity Of Your Doom. Our Prince, Frederick The Grave, Patron Of Nordhausen, Ordains That All The Jews Within His Lands, For The Foul Crime Of Poisoning The Wells, Bringing The Black Death Upon Christendom, Shall Be Consumed With Flame. Rabbi Jacob (Springing Forward And Clasping His Hands). I' The Name Of God, Your God And Ours, Have Mercy! Susskind. Noble Lords, Burghers, And Artisans Of Nordhausen, Wise, Honorable, Just, God-Fearing Men, Shall Ye Condemn Or Ever Ye Have Heard? Sure, One At Least Owns Here The Close, Kind Name Of Brother - Unto Him I Turn. At Least Some Sit Among You Who Have Wedded Wives, Bear The Dear Title And The Precious Charge Of Husband - Unto These I Speak. Some Here, Are Crowned, It May Be, With The Sacred Name Of Father - Unto These I Pray. All, All Are Sons - All Have Been Children, All Have Known The Love Of Parents - Unto These I Cry: Have Mercy On Us, We Are Innocent, Who Are Brothers, Husbands, Fathers, Sons As Ye! Look You, We Have Dwelt Among You Many Years, Led Thrifty, Peaceable, Well-Ordered Lives. Who Can Attest, Who Prove We Ever Wrought Or Ever Did Devise The Smallest Harm, Far Less This Fiendish Crime Against The State? Rather Let Those Arise Who Owe The Jews Some Debt Of Unpaid Kindness, Profuse Alms, The Hebrew Leech'S Serviceable Skill, Who Know Our Patience Under Injury, And Ye Would See, If All Stood Bravely Forth, A Motley Host, Led By The Landgrave'S Self, Recruited From All Ranks, And In The Rear, The Humblest, Veriest Wretch In Nordhausen. We Know The Black Death Is A Scourge Of God. Is Not Our Flesh As Capable Of Pain, Our Blood As Quick Envenomed As Your Own? Has The Destroying Angel Passed The Posts Of Jewish Doors - To Visit Christian Homes? We All Are Slaves Of One Tremendous Hour. We Drink The Waters Which Our Enemies Say We Spoil With Poison, - We Must Breathe, As Ye, The Universal Air, - We Droop, Faint, Sicken, From The Same Causes To The Selfsame End. Ye Are Not Strangers To Me, Though Ye Wear Grim Masks To-Day - Lords, Knights And Citizens, Few Do I See Whose Hand Has Pressed Not Mine, In Cordial Greeting. Dietrich Von Tettenborn, If At My Death My Wealth Be Confiscate Unto The State, Bethink You, Lest She Prove A Harsher Creditor Than I Have Been. Stout Meister Rolapp, May You Never Again Languish So Nigh To Death That Simon'S Art Be Needed To Restore Your Lusty Limbs. Good Hugo Schultz - Ah! Be Those Blessed Tears Remembered Unto You In Paradise! Look There, My Lords, One Of