Part 76 (2/2)
”Not in earnest? Herr Burgomaster, what would be the value of all my oaths, if I should now retreat like a coward? Do you think I would break my word to you a second time, so long as I had breath in my body?”
”Certainly not, so long as it is in your power to hold out. But this time you _cannot_! Ask the doctor--he will not allow it so soon.”
”Am I to ask _him_, when the question concerns the most sacred duty? I will consult him about my life--but my duties are more than my life.
Only thus can I atone for the old sin which ten years ago made me a renegade.”
”And you say this now--when you are so happy?”
”Herr Burgomaster,” replied Freyer with lofty serenity: ”A man who has once been so happy and so miserable as I, learns to view life from a different standpoint! No joy enraptures, no misfortune terrifies him.
Everything to which we give these names is fluctuating, and only _one_ happiness is certain: to do one's duty--until death!”
”Herr Freyer! That is a n.o.ble thought, but if your wife should hear it--would she agree?”
”Surely, for she thinks as I do--if she did not, we should never have been united--she would never have cast aside wealth, rank, power, and all worldly advantages to live with me in exile. Do you believe she did so for any earthly cause? She thinks so--but I know better: The cross allured her--as it does all who come in contact with it.”
”What are you saying about the cross?” asked the countess, entering the room: ”Good-morning, Friend Burgomaster!”
”My wife! He will not believe that you would permit me to play the Christus again--even should it cost my life?”
The countess turned pale with terror. ”Oh, Heaven, are you thinking of doing so?”
”Yes”--replied the burgomaster: ”He will not be dissuaded from it!”
”Joseph!” said the countess mournfully: ”Will you inflict this grief upon me--now, when you have scarcely recovered?”
”I a.s.sure you that I have played the Christus when I felt far worse than I do now--thanks to your self-sacrificing care, dear wife.”
Tears filled the countess' eyes, and she remained silent.
”My dove, do we not understand each other?”
”Yes ”--she said after a long, silent struggle: ”Do it, my beloved husband--give yourself to G.o.d, as I resign you to Him. He has only loaned you to me, I dare not keep you from Him, if He desires to show Himself again to the world in your form! I will cherish and tend and watch over you, that you may endure it! And when you are taken down from the cross, I will rub your strained limbs and bedew your burning brow with the tears of all the sorrows Mary and Magdalene suffered for the Crucified One, and--when you have rested and again raise your eyes to mine with a smile, I will rest your head upon my breast in the blissful feeling that you are no G.o.d Who will ascend to Heaven--but a man, a tender, beloved man, and--_my own_. Oh, G.o.d cannot destroy such happiness, and if He does, He will only draw you to Himself, that I may therefore long the more fervently for you, for Him, Who is the source of _all_ love--then--” her voice was stifled by tears as she laid her head on his breast--”then your wife will not murmur, but wait silently and patiently till she can follow you.” Leaning on his breast, she wept softly, clasping him in her arms that he might not be torn from her.
”Dear wife,” he answered gently, and the wonderfully musical voice trembled with the most sacred emotion, ”we will accept whatever G.o.d sends--loyal to the cross--you and I, beloved, high-hearted woman! Do not weep, my dove! Being loyal to the cross does not mean only to be patient--it means also to be strong! Does not the soldier go bravely to death for an earthly king, and should not I joyfully peril my life for my _G.o.d_?”
”Yes, my husband you are right, I will be strong. Go, then, holy warrior, into the battle for the ideal and put yourself at the disposal of your brave fellow combatants!” She slowly withdrew her arms from his neck as if taking a long, reluctant farewell.
The burgomaster resolutely approached. ”We people of Ammergau must bow to this sacred zeal. This is indeed a grandeur which conquers death!
Whoever sees this effect of our modest Play on souls like yours cannot be mistaken in believing that the power which works such miracles does not emanate from men, and must proceed from a G.o.d. But as He is a G.o.d of love. He will not accept your sacrifice. Freyer must not take the part which might cost him his life. We will find a Christus elsewhere and thus manage for this time.”
Freyer fixed his eyes mournfully on the ground. ”Now the crown has indeed fallen from my head! G.o.d has no longer accepted me--I am shut out from the sacred work!”
The burgomaster placed his wife in his arms: ”Let it be your task now to guard this soul and lead it to its destination--this, too, is a sacred work!”
”Yes, and amen!” said Freyer.
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