_Hans_ [_accompanying the movements below with dumb-show, which is accentuated by the noise of the crashing weapons_]. There! That was a blow! Take that! [_Alarmed._] Guard thyself! Ah, that was good! Now after him and strike!... He missed! [_To_ Skoll, _threateningly._] I thought thou didst laugh!

_Skoll_. What should I do?

_Hans_. I tell thee, thou brute beast, thou calf, thou knave, thou thief, as truly as I love thee as my brother, I will kill thee!

_Skoll_. Not so fierce!

_Hans_. There, which one of them drives the other in the corner, now?

Eh?

_Skoll_. What?... I will stand above both sides and wait to see which one comes out ahead.

_Hans_. Ho, ho! How the rascal puffs! Yes, thou wilt learn to run, my fine fellow! Another blow! He struck him not! Now for thy life!--What is he thinking of? [_Shrieks out._] My master bleeds!

_Skoll_. Ei, ei!

_Hans_. Wipe it off! Whisk it away! That little blood-letting but sharpens the anger, p.r.i.c.ks the hate and--

_Skoll_. Look!

_Hans_. Now gather all thy powers together, master! And all my love for thee turn into fire and flame, that--

[_Pause. Then a woman's shriek is heard, and the ringing fall of a man's body. A dull murmur of many voices follows._]

_Skoll_. That was a blow! [_Shouting down._] Hail to King Wid--

_Hans_ [_seizes him like lightning and hurls him to the ground, then springs on the bench, waving his sword above his head and shouting._]

Back from his body! You men below there, is there one that wears a sword and armor?

_Voices_. I!--I!--I!

_Hans Lorba.s.s_. He will break through the lists with me and drive away this robber of Samland!

[_Cries of rage, together with the crashing of the lists_. Hans Lorba.s.s _storms upon the guards, who retreat to one side, and dashes below.

The_ Queen _comes upon the scene half unconscious, supported by_ Anna Goldhair _and her other women. The_ Chancellor _and other n.o.bles_.

Skoll _has squeezed himself behind the corner pillar on the right._]

_Colestin_ [_turning from the_ Queen _to a group of men who stand gazing down on the tumult below_]. How goes it now?

_Chancellor_. That man whose summons hurled the brand of mutiny among us, look how great and small, man and woman crowd around him shouting and hustle the Duke to the door! There, he is gone!--the other left!

Who was the devil?

[_The uproar grows fainter and seems to lose itself in the distance._]

_Colestin_. I know not whether he was a devil or an angel; for without his shriek of hate we should still be lying beneath the foot of tyranny, bleeding and weaponless as he who lies below.

[Chancellor _motions to him, pointing towards the_ Queen, _who has revived and is looking about her wildly._]

_Queen_. Where is the stranger? Why are you silent? I saw him fall ...

did he not conquer?

_A Messenger_ [_comes hurrying up the steps_]. Hail to our Queen! I bring glad tidings: the accursed Duke has fled upon a stolen horse. The people vent their long-stored spleen upon his rascally followers.

_Skoll_. Woe is me! Alas! [_He slips behind the church door and disappears._]

_Queen_. And that youth who smiling received the sacrificial blow for you--think you his life so valueless that no one even remembers him as a poor reward? Why are you silent? Will no one speak?

_Chancellor_. We know not whether he is dead, or lives, though sorely wounded. In every thrust he far over-reckoned the reach of his sword. A more grievous trouble than this, my Lady Queen, avails to banish our rejoicing; a broken oath is here, an unatoned-for--

_Colestin_. Look! What a sight!

[Hans Lorba.s.s _supports the sorely wounded_ Prince Witte _up the steps, lets him sink upon the bench to the left, and stands before him with drawn sword, like a guard._]

_Hans_. Away from here! Whoever loves his life, whether man or woman, comes not too near!

_Queen_ [_approaching him_]. Not even I, my friend?

_Hans_ [_embarra.s.sed, yielding_]. Thou, Lady,--yes.

_Queen_ [_takes off her veil, and wipes the blood from the face of the_ Prince]. Send for physicians that he may be saved.

_Hans_. He is saved! If he were not, I'd spring in the very face of death for him,--I would spring down death's very throat; death and I, we know each other well.

_Chancellor_. Thou who breathest out spume and fire as carelessly as though h.e.l.l itself had brought thee forth, I ask thee who thou art, thou unclean spirit, who hast dared to raise this pious people to revolt by thy furious onslaught, and taught them to poison for themselves and the ensuing race the holy fount of justice?

_Hans_. And I will answer thee: I myself am that justice. I bear it on my sword's point, I carry it here beneath my cap, I pour it forth in my master's name, who gave it for his glory and his happiness. [_Signs of anger._] If ye believe it not, then listen trembling to the thousand toned joy that peals from far away like spring thunder quivering in the air, and sweeps throughout the land the joyous message of deliverance: we are free!

_Chancellor_. Speak, O Queen! Thy soldiers wait below. Methinks this servant of the defeated one has too much confidence,--he speaks as though he were instead our lord and victor.

_Queen_. Let him speak! He has the right! And even were he a thousand times defeated, this man who lies before us bleeding, if he recover and seek it from me, shall be our lord and conqueror. [_Great confusion and excitement._]

_Prince Witte_ [_rousing from his unconsciousness and looking about him painfully_]. There lies the heron! I have wrung his neck, I s.n.a.t.c.h my prize, my salvation ... [_feeling on his head and in his breast with anxious dismay_] where are the feathers?

_Queen_. What seekest thou, dear one?

_Hans_. Thou seest, O Queen, he speaks in fever. Do not listen, do not heed his words.

_Prince_. Hans, Hans!

_Hans_ [_close by him_]. Take care what thou sayest.

_Prince_ [_whispers earnestly_]. I will away from here ... [_with a glance at the_ Queen _half complainingly_] I must away!

_Hans_. When thou canst.

ACT III.