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?
SERVANT. His honor is engaged at the faro-table, above stairs.
FERDINAND. Tell his honor, in the name of all the devils in hell, to make his appearance this instant!
[Exit SERVANT.
SCENE II.
FERDINAND (hastily reading the letter, at one moment seeming petrified with astonishment, at the next pacing the room with fury). Impossible! quite impossible! A form so heavenly cannot hide so devilish a heart. And yet!-and yet! Though all the angels of heaven should descend on earth and proclaim her innocence-though heaven and earth, the Creator and the created, should, with one accord, vouch for her innocence-it is her hand, her own hand! Treachery, monstrous, infernal treachery, such as humanity never before witnessed! This, then, was the reason she so resolutely opposed our flight! This it was-Oh, God! Now I awake from my dream! Now the veil is lifted! This, then, is why she surrendered with so much seeming heroism her claims on my affection, and all but cheated me with her saint-like demeanor! (He traverses the chamber rapidly, and then remains for some moments in deep thought.) To fathom my heart to its very core! To reciprocate every lofty sentiment, every gentle emotion, every fiery ebullition! To sympathize with every secret breathing of my soul! To
