THE PRINCE. So I have laid it out. I know he loves me,
He loves me like a son; since early childhood
A thousand signs have amply proven that.
What doubt is in your heart that stirs you so?
Has he not ever seemed to take more joy
Than I myself to see my young fame grow?
All that I am, am I not all through him?
And he should now unkindly tread in dust
The plant himself has nurtured, just because
Too swiftly opulent it flowered forth?
I'll not believe his worst foe could think that—
And far less you who know and cherish him.
HOHENZOLLERN (significantly).
Arthur, you've stood your trial in court-martial,
And you believe that still?
THE PRINCE. Because of it!
No one, by heaven alive, would go so far
Who did not have a pardon up his sleeve!
Even there, before the judgment bar, it was—
Even there it was, my confidence returned.
Come, was it such a capital offense
Two little seconds ere the order said
To have laid low the stoutness of the Swede?
What other felony is on my conscience?
And could he summon me, unfeelingly,
Before this board of owl-like judges, chanting
Their litanies of bullets and the grave,
Did he not purpose with a sovereign word
To step into their circle like a god?
No, he is gathering this night of cloud
About my head, my friend, that he may dawn
Athwart the gloomy twilight like the sun!
And, faith, this pleasure I begrudge him not!
HOHENZOLL. And yet, they say, the court has spoken judgment.
THE PRINCE. I heard so: death.
HOHENZOLLERN (amazed). You know it then—so soon?
THE PRINCE. Golz, who was present when they brought the verdict
Gave me report of how the judgment fell.
HOHENZOLL. My God, man! And it stirred you not at all?
THE PRINCE. Me? Why, not in the least!
HOHENZOLLERN. You maniac!
On what then do you prop your confidence?