Otho the Great. A Tragedy/Act 1 Scene 3

Ludolph. You have my secret; let it not be breath'd.

Sigifred. Still give me leave to wonder that the prince,

Ludolph, and the swift Arab are the same;

Still to rejoice that 'twas a German arm

Death doing in a turban'd masquerade.

Ludolph. The emperor must not know it, Sigifred.

Sigifred. I pr'ythee, why? What happier hour of time

Could thy pleased star point down upon from heaven

With silver index, bidding thee make peace?

Ludolph. Still it must not be known, good Sigifred;

The star may point oblique.

Sigifred.If Otho knew

His son to be that unknown Mussulman,

After whose spurring heels he sent me forth,

With one of his well-pleased Olympian oaths,

The charters of man's greatness, at this hour

He would be watching round the castle walls,

And, like an anxious warder, strain his sight

For the first glimpse of such a son return'd—

Ludolph, that blast of the Hungarians,

That Saracenic meteor of the fight,

That silent fury, whose fell cimeter

Kept danger all aloof from Otho's head,

And left him space for wonder.

Ludolph.Say no more

Not as a swordsman would I pardon claim,

But as a son. The bronzed centurion,

Long toil'd in foreign wars, and whose high deeds

Are shaded in a forest of tall spears,

Known only to his troop, hath greater plea

Of favor with my sire than I can have.

Sigifred. My lord, forgive me that I cannot see

How this proud temper with clear reason squares.

What made you then, with such an anxious love,

Hover around that life, whose bitter days,

You vexed with bad revolt? Was't opium,

Or the mad-fumed wine? Nay, do not frown,

I rather would grieve with you than upbraid.

Ludolph. I do believe you. No, 'twas not to make

A father his son's debtor, or to heal

His deep heart-sickness for a rebel child.

'Twas done in memory of my boyish days,

Poor cancel for his kindness to my youth,

For all his calming of my childish griefs,

And all his smiles upon my merriment.

No, not a thousand foughten fields could sponge

Those days paternal from my memory,

Though now upon my head he heaps disgrace.

Sigifred. My prince, you think too harshly—

Ludolph.Can I so?

Hath he not gall'd my spirit to the quick?

And with a sullen rigor obstinate

Pour'd out a phial of wrath upon my faults?

Hunted me as the Tartar does the boar,

Driven me to the very edge o' the world,

And almost put a price upon my head?

Sigifred. Remember how he spared the rebel lords

Ludolph. Yes, yes, I know he hath a noble nature

That cannot trample on the fallen. But his

Is not the only proud heart in his realm.

He hath wrong'd me, and I have done him wrong;

He hath loved me, and I have shown him kindness;

We should be almost equal.

Sigifred.Yet, for all this,

I would you had appear'd among those lords,

And ta'en his favor.

Ludolph.Ha! till now I thought

My friend had held poor Ludolph's honor dear.

What! would you have me sue before his throne

And kiss the courtier's missal, its silk steps?

Or hug the golden housings of his steed,

Amid a camp, whose steeled swarms I dared

But yesterday? And, at the trumpet sound,

Bow like some unknown mercenary's flag

And lick the soiled grass? No, no, my friend,

I would not, I, be pardon'd in the heap,

And bless indemnity with all that scum,—

Those men I mean, who on my shoulders propp'd

Their weak rebellion, winning me with lies,

And pitying forsooth my many wrongs;

Poor self-deceived wretches, who must think

Each one himself a king in embryo,

Because some dozen vassals cry'd—my lord!

Cowards, who never knew their little hearts,

Till flurried danger held the mirror up,

And then they own'd themselves without a blush,

Curling, like spaniels, round my father' feet.

Such things deserted me and are forgiven,

While I, least guilty, am an outcast still,

And will be, for I love such fair disgrace.

Sigifred. I know the clear truth; so would Otho see,

For he is just and noble. Fain would I

Be pleader for you—

Ludolph.He'll hear none of it;

You know his temper, hot, proud, obstinate;

Endanger not yourself so uselessly.

I will encounter his thwart spleen myself,

To-day, at the Duke Conrad's, where he keeps

His crowded state after the victory,

There will I be, a most unwelcome guest,

And parley with him, as a son should do,

Who doubly loathes a father's tyranny;

Tell him how feeble is that tyranny;

How the relationship of father and son

Is no more valid than a silken leash

Where lions tug adverse, if love grow not

From interchanged love through many years.

Ay, and those turreted Franconian walls,

Like to a jealous casket, hold my pearl—

My fair Auranthe! Yes, I will be there.

Sigifred. Be not so rash; wait till his wrath shall pass,

Until his royal spirit softly ebbs

Self-influenced; then, in his morning dreams

He will forgive thee, and awake in grief

To have not thy good-morrow.

Ludolph.Yes, to-day

I must be there, while her young pulses beat

Among the new-plumed minions of the war.

Have you seen her of late? No? Auranthe,

Franconia's fair sister, 'tis I mean.

She should be paler for my troublous days—

And there it is—my father's iron lips

Have sworn divorcement 'twixt me and my right.

Sigifred (aside). Auranthe! I had hoped this whim had pass'd.

Ludolph. And, Sigifred, with all his love of justice,

When will he take that grandchild in his arms,

That, by my love I swear, shall soon be his?

This reconcilement is impossible,

For see—but who are these?

Sigifred.They are messengers

From our great emperor; to you I doubt not,

For couriers are abroad to seek you out.

Enter Theodore and Gonfred.

Theodore. Seeing so many vigilant eyes explore

The province to invite your highness back

To your high dignities, we are too happy.

Gonfred. We have no eloquence to color justly

The emperor's anxious wishes.

Ludolph.Go. I follow you.

[Exeunt Theodore and Gonfred.

I play the prude: it is but venturing—

Why should he be so earnest? Come, my friend,

Let us to Friedburg castle.