Images of Goethe through Schiller's Egmont 9780773566972

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Images of Goethe Goethe through through Schiller's Schiller'sEgmont Egmont

Analysing a forgotten, unpublished performance script of Friedrich Schiller's adaptation of Goethe's play Egmont, David John examines the collaboration between the two playwrights as a means of addressing fundamental questions on the roles of text and performance. He shows that performance, not text, constitutes the essence of dramatic and theatrical experience. John argues that shifting the focus from the text to the efficacy of performance requires broadening our concept of performance beyond what occurs on stage and its critical reception to include the daily life of the society that provides its context. It follows from this semiotic approach that there can be no fixed text or understanding of Egmont or of Goethe himself— only multiple images. John's exploration of image includes literary motifs, acting, staging, and social role playing, with particular reference to Goethe's development as an artist and cultural icon. In addition to presenting a comprehensive analysis of the play and a discussion of Egmont's reception from its first appearance to the present (including productions on both stage and screen), John provides an in-depth performance analysis based on the theories of Alter, Burns, Carson, Fischer-Lichte, Goffman, Pavis, and Schechner. The book includes the complete Mannheim manuscript (M372), critically edited and published as a performance text for the first time. DAVID G. JOHN is professor of German, University of Waterloo.

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Images of Goethe through Schiller's Egmont DAVID G. J O H N

McGill-Queen's University Press Montreal & Kingston • London • Ithaca

McGill-Queen's University Press 1998

ISBN 0-7735-1681-6 Legal deposit third quarter 1998 Bibliotheque nationale du Quebec Printed in Canada on acid-free paper This book has been published with the help of a grant from the Humanities and Social Sciences Federation of Canada, using funds provided by the Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council of Canada. McGill-Queen's University Press acknowledges the support of the Canada Council for the Arts for its publishing program.

Canadian Cataloguing in Publication Data John, David G. (David Gethin), 1947Images of Goethe through Schiller's Egmont Includes bibliographical references and index. ISBN 0-7735-1681-6

I. Goethe, Johann Wolfgang von, 1749-1832. Egmont. 2. Schiller, Friedrich, 1759-1805.1. Title. PTI9I5.E4J64 1998 832'.6 C097-901278-3

This book was typeset by Typo Litho Composition Inc. in 10/12 Adobe Garamond.

Catharinae

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Contents

Acknowledgments

ix

Illustrations

23, 36,168-75, 186-88, 200-08, 225

Introduction

3

1 Egmont as Text: Scholarly Documentation 2 Egmont. Ein Trauerspiel in drey Aujziigen 3 From Text to Performance

24 36

92

4 Reflections of the Text in Performance 123 5 Text and Image 148 6 Acting I: Image on Stage 176 7 Acting 2: The Director's Image 189 8 Acting 3: Image in Society

209

9 Goethe and Egmont Today: Stage and Screen Conclusion Notes

268

271

Works Cited 305 Index

320

226

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Acknowledgments

I wish to express first my gratitude to the Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council of Canada for its generous funding over the several years of research for this book, and to the Otto-Mann-Stiftung whose support in the last phase enabled me to complete it. With sincere appreciation I turn then to an academic's best friends, the librarians and archivists whose expertise and engaged assistance gave me such open access to the materials necessary for my investigation. My contact with them never failed to leave me with a sense of admiration for their professionalism, competence, and academic integrity. Foremost among these are Liselotte Homering, director of the theatre collection of the ReiB-Museum in Mannheim, to whom I have turned many times over the past twenty years, and to whom I owe permission to publish the Egmont manuscript in Chapter 2. A number of others deserve mention: the library staff of my home university, the University of Waterloo, especially the interlibrary loan personnel, Helena Calogeridis of the German section and Michelle Sawchuk of Fine Arts; Chris Hughes and Dorit Sachs of Central Photographic; the superb Wiirttembergische Landesbibliothek, Stuttgart, my home base for a productive sabbatical year; Katharine A. Lochnan of the Art Gallery of Ontario, Maija Vilcins of the National Gallery of Canada, Antony V. Griffiths of The British Museum Department of Prints and Drawings, Stefaan Hautekeete of the Musees Royaux des Beaux-Arts de Belgique, J.F.Heijbroek of the Rijksmuseum Amsterdam and personnel of the Koninklijk Museum voor Schone Kunsten Antwerp; the archivists of the Sammlung Oskar Fambach at the University of Bonn; Ulrike Miiller-Harang, Goethe-Nationalmuseum Weimar, and the staff of the AnnaAmalia-Bibliothek; further, Michael Assmann, Anhaltliches Theater Dessau;

x

Acknowledgments

Rita Czapka and "special agent" Monika Bartl, Wiener Burgtheater; like Dietrich, Schauspielhaus Leipzig; Irma Dohn, Schauspiel Bonn; Daniela Gmachl, Elisabethbiihne Salzburg; Rudolf Gretscher, Bayerisches Staatsschauspiel, Munich; Ann Kersting, Brigitte Klein and Bernd Wirth, Stadt- und Universitatsbibliothek Frankfurt am Main; Irmgard Mickisch, Hans-Otto-Theater Potsdam; Brigitte Neiner, Stadttheater Bern; Peter NiC and Haris Balic, Theatersammlung der Osterreichischen Nationalbibliothek in Vienna; Mr Prinz and M. Riihl, Schauspielhaus Frankfurt; Ulrich Ried, Staatstheater Karlsruhe; Hans Rossler, Brandenburger Theater; Claudia Romeder, Wiener Burgtheater; Hans Riibesame, Deutsches Theater, Berlin; Karin Scheider, Nationaltheater, Weimar; M. Schultheiss, Schauspielhaus, Zurich; Ursula Zangerle, Dumont-Lindemann-Archiv in Diisseldorf; and Volkmar Hansen and Regine Zeller, Goethe-Museum in Diisseldorf. The contribution of some personal friends also deserves acknowledgment, among them John Hobday for his interest in and respect for my work, and for joining with Gisela Stock to engineer the acquisition of a dtv WeimarerAusga.be long after it had gone out of print, a kindness that saved me immense effort and left me with a research resource for a lifetime. I also wish to thank Peter Luft, who worked on the manuscript in chapter 2, Dagmar Jangl, who assisted in the final stages of production, and finally, for much animated stimulation, the students of my graduate course on Goethe in the winter of 1994, particularly Gabriele Franke, who contributed to the material on stage productions in chapter 9, and Linda Schmoll, whose own dissertation research has drawn me to the magic of the silver screen. I gratefully acknowledge the following for permission to publish the illustrations: Figures I, 20, 21, 23-34, 37» 39» 40: Stiftung Weimarer Klassik/Museen. Figures 2 and 3: Theatersammlung. ReiB-Museum. Stadt Mannheim. Figures 4 and 14: Wiirttembergische Landesbibliothek, Stuttgart. Figures 5-16, 19 and 22: Goethe-Museum. Anton-und-Katharina-KippenbergStiftung. Diisseldorf. Figure 17: Deutsches Theatermuseum. Miinchen. Figure 18: Ruth Freydank. Theater in Berlin. Berlin: Kunst und Gesellschaft, 1988, p. 164. Original in the Stadtmuseum Berlin. Photo by Christel Lehmann. Figure 35: Fiirstlich Waldecksche Hauptverwaltung, Bad Arolsen. Figure 36: By courtesy of the National Portrait Gallery, London. Figure 38: Insel Verlag, Frankfurt am Main and Leipzig. Figure 41: Mara Eggert. Frankfurt am Main.

Images of Goethe through Schiller's Egmont

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Introduction

Can we say something new about the most prominent authors of ages past and show their relevance for modern times? In Goethe's case it seems almost presumptuous to try, for there are already many excellent studies and the growing mountain of scholarly literature on his work is already so immense that one can never be sure of having read even the relevant contributions. From the outset my eye was on Goethe's dramas, and it focussed sharply when I first saw Manuscript 372, in the theatre collection of the ReiB-Museum, Mannheim. There is always that tingle of excitement when turning the pages of an unknown, handwritten document, the hope of casting light on seasoned problems and questions, perhaps truly adding something to our knowledge of past and present. Its title page read Egmont. Ein Trauerspiel in drey AufZugen, and below, in a different hand "Von J.W. von Goethe." Goethe's Egmont of 1788 in three acts/ Never. Schiller's adaptation of 1796? Perhaps. Whose text was it, whose play? The manuscript consisted of 299 clearly written pages, yet beyond the original scribe's hand there was evidence of many others: deletions, insertions, re-arrangements, evidence in fact, some would say, of a mutilation of this text by many hands. Or was it an improvement, an adaptation, a new play? With such massive changes, could it still be called the work of either of its suspected authors? These were the questions that led after several years to my title, itself deliberately multilayered, for we are dealing here with an ambivalent notion of what dramatic literature is, and with an ambivalent man. The manuscript is indeed Goethe's play in Schiller's adaptation, first performed in Weimar exactly two centuries ago. It belongs to neither author, and it belongs to both. It is dramatic literature, but it is also a performance text, and as a result a work in flux. This manuscript is the foundation of any new insights I may have to offer about Goethe in the following pages.

4

Images of Goethe through Schiller's Egmont

Some may be alarmed by my drift away from the original text and examination of Egmont primarily through Schiller's adaptation, but I am reminded of the thoughts of Canadian playwright Michael McKenzie who spoke recently at the "Why Theatre?" conference (University of Toronto, November 1995). Theatre, he claimed, should come to grips with reality; odierwise it is simply pageantry, a reinforcement of history, fixed image and the status quo. Performances of Goethe and Egmont that insist on a literal and complete rendition of the masters original are pageants, edifications of an icon, not first and foremost theatre, and what is more, even the notion that such rituals are possible is absurd. The Mannheim manuscript is but one example to show that the texts of all plays, when actually performed, are changed to a lesser or greater extent and become adaptations, and any other directors or prompters book would demonstrate the same point. There is no such thing as an absolutely faithful production, the question is rather the extent of the adaptation and our judgement of its effectiveness. I am arguing in this book against the ultimate authority of any dramatic text as an expression of a single author; in favour of multiple texts in conjunction with performance as a reflection of that author's work. I am arguing, too, that the concept of performance must go beyond what happens on stage, for performance permeates every aspect of our daily lives, especially the life of a man like Goethe who was actor, playwright, director, producer, civil servant, clandestine lover, and many other things, all roles demanding different performances. My repeated reading of Egmont, my growing knowledge of Goethe's life and times, and my interest in modern socio-anthropological theatre analysis made me realize that this play is rooted in a multifacetted concept of Goethe's image, whether we think of its genesis, literary qualities, and autobiographical connections, or of the way it has been produced on stage and screen. As there is no fixed text for Goethe's drama, there can be no fixed understanding of him, so this book is not about Goethe, but about his images, his images in Egmont, his images of Egmont, and his images of himself through his own eyes and the eyes of others. Martin Walser's In Goethe's Hand(1982) revolves around the commission of a portrait that would reflect adequately Goethe's persona and genius, but the result was a kaleidoscope of images instead, and while not intentionally connected with "Walser's work, Effi Biedrzynski has given us a visual representation of the same thing in Goethes Weimar (136—7). Here, staring out at us, is not one Goethe but eighteen pairs of Goethe eyes, an eerie, arresting confrontation with German classicism. My book begins With written text and ends with moving pictures. Originally, I planned to do as I always had done, to concentrate on text in its historical context, but linking Egmont with modern times requires attention to recent stage performances and to the media through which most people experience drama today: television and film. The emphasis Goethe placed on the visual dimensions of production through the harmonious interdependence of acting, costumes, and sets is no secret to anyone familiar with his theatre, an emphasis

5 Introduction in many ways akin to the aesthetics of opera. The more meaningful the visual elements in dramatic performance, the less isolated is the text; in fact, in many dramatic situations visual images are far more eloquent than the text itself. We might ask with regard to any productions of plays, and particularly modern productions and films of Egmont, just how much of the original text is actually needed for the audience to grasp the essence of what the playwright had to say? Goethe's emphasis on the visual dimension is an argument for his modernity, an anticipation of the great advances in the technology of stage production and its culmination in moving pictures. Beyond my personal interest in eighteenth-century theatre, I believe there is good reason to value continued study of Goethe's dramas. If we believe that classical writers should be kept alive at the very least to help maintain a sense of cultural history, then a case can be made for concentrating on Goethe's plays, for they have far more potential for continuing impact in the modern world than his prose or lyrical writings. In practical terms, how does the number of Goethe readers today compare with Goethe viewers in theatres, cinemas, and in front of televisions at home? Audiences for his works on stage in the last fifteen years have numbered in the tens of thousands (Was spielten die Theater, 1981—90; Wer spielte was, 1990-93), and those exposed to his dramas on television and film potentially many more. Moreover, Goethe remains very much part of the ongoing discussion of the so-called "klassisches Erbe" in German-speaking countries. Disrespect for him and for the classical tradition is fashionable in some circles, though this is hardly a modern phenomenon, for he had in his own time many detractors whose bitter legacy has been well recorded (Mandelkow, Schidrowitz, Borchmeyer in Bender). Still, appreciative books and articles continue to appear at a steady pace, with Goethe's celebrity often transcending the world of literary studies and fascinating scholars in many fields. Part of this continuing revaluation is contained in new primary works such as Peter Hacks's Ein Gesprdch im Hause Stein tiber den abwesenden Herrn von Goethe (1975) and Walser's In Goethes Hand, both of which reexamine Goethe's relationships with those closest to him and reveal a man whose magnificent genius and accomplishments were often accompanied by personal arrogance and callous insensitivity. Besides the fortuitous finding of a manuscript, there are good reasons to focus on Egmont specifically. From its inception, the play was a headache to produce, so that after the initial failure of the original in 1789, Goethe looked for help and collaborated with Schiller who produced his adapation. This alliance made Egmont an excellent subject for what I consider an important task of literary scholarship: to draw closer together the two major strands of theatre, dramatic literature and stage performance. It is a telling fact that most critical interpretations of Egmont have been published without reference to its performance at all. In reassessing it in terms of both elements, we might accomplish what even a contemporary reviewer thought almost impossible: "Es ist iiber

6

Images of Goethe through Schiller's Egmont

dieses herrliche Erzeugnif? der Muse unsers Gothe schon so viel gesagt und geschrieben worden, daB sich wohl nicht leicht etwas Neues hinzufugen lieBe" (Zeitbilder 31.1.1830). Despite production problems, more than one critic has asserted that Egmont is in fact Goethe's best stage play, for example, Friedrich Sengle (1952), who calls it "...als Biihnendrama wohl das starkste Goethes" (36), and Benjamin Bennett (1979), who assigns it a central role in the development of European theatre. Egmont is unique among Goethe's dramatic works (Faust excluded) in that it contains the widest range of social interactions, a spectrum comparable to Goethe's world when he wrote it: private and public relationships in the breadth of society, the court, and the international forum. The play has an historical significance with repercussions in Goethes time and our own. It was also the first of Goethe's dramas to be performed on the Weimar court stage in a form radically different from its original, as Hans Gerhard Graf put it, "ein denkwiirdiges Ereignis in der Geschichte des Weimarischen, ja des deutschen Theaters iiberhaupt" (1924; 299). The fact that the manuscript with which I begin is also connected specifically with the Nationaltheater in Mannheim is a further reason for concentrating on Egmont, for it opens up the possibility of comparing two of the great German theatres of the day. August Wilhelm Iffland (1759-1814), who played the first Egmont in Weimar, came directly from Mannheim; Mannheim's Intendant Wolfgang Heribert von Dalberg (1750—1806) and Goethe had much in common in their sense of production, especially in their attention to visual harmony; and both theatres suffered decline when the strong leadership of the glory days weakened. More than most dramas from the past, Egmont can appeal to modern audiences because of its timeless relevance. One can hardly read it without thinking of direct parallels with recent events around us: the liberation of people from political oppression, religious warfare, human savagery, police-state repression, and a popular hero with feet of clay. Who can hear Buyk's "und immer die Feinde im Flufi zusammen gehauen, weggeschossen wie die Enten. Was nun noch durchbrach, schlugen Euch auf der Flucht die Bauerweiber mit Hacken und Mistgabeln todt" [18], or Egmont's "Ruhig sieht der Soldat wohl im Felde seinen Kameraden neben sich niederfallen; aber den FluB? herunter werden dir die Leichen der Burger, der Kinder, der Jungfrauen entgegen schwimmen, daB du mit Entsetzen da stehst, und nicht mehr weiBt, wessen Sache du vertheidigst" [102], without today thinking of Bosnia, Somalia, or other fields of human torture?1 Who can hear the Zimmermeister's "Und mit groBen Versprechen, werden Vater, Mutter, Kinder, Verwandte, Freunde, Dienstbothen eingeladen, was in dem innersten des Hauses vorgeht, bey dem besonders niedergesetzten Gerichte zu offenbaren" [112] without reflecting on modern, indeed very recent German history? Who can hear Vansen's "Seyd nur ruhig. Gott im Himmel erfahrt nichts von Euch Wiirmern, geschweige der Regent" [123] without feeling the sense of alienation many people experience today? Despite this, in an excellent article on Egmont, Hartmut Reinhardt, who with Norbert Miller

7

Introduction

has also provided us with a superb edition in the Miinchner Ausgabe of Goethe's works, writes: "... soziale Thematik nach heutigem Verstandnis handelt das Drama nicht ab - wer solches von ihm verlangt, bringt es ebenso um seinen historischen Ort wie um seine spezifische Struktur" (134). On the contrary, it is my position that the social themes of Egmont, while indeed first understandable within a specific historical frame, do have a timeless relevance which must be recognized by modern directors and audiences. If this play or any other of Goethe's plays is to be more than a museum piece it must have something to do with todays social and political circumstances, and in chapter 9 we will see how modern directors and audiences have addressed this. The continuing relevance of Egmont even struck Goethe in his own time. More than a decade after beginning to write it, he noted "dafi sie eben jetzt in Briissel die Szene spielen, wie ich sie vor zwolf Jahren aufschrieb" (WA I, 32, 3i).2 He had read in the paper that the Brabanter were insisting on their old rights in the face of the state and church reform politics of Kaiser Joseph n. The first chapter of this book deals with the scholarly documentation of Egmont as text. Although I place considerable emphasis throughout the study on performance and visual aspects I wish to leave no doubt about my conviction that it is the text that is the foundation of sophisticated western drama. The question is, what text? We have come to rely on certain scholarly editions when answering this question for both Goethe's and Schiller's works. This chapter surveys those editions, calls into question their reliability for modern scholarship, and leads to the publication of the Mannheim manuscript in chapter 2, which is essentially a critical edition of one version of Egmont and my primary text base for the discussion from then on. Chapter 3 then looks at the transformation of this text into performance, examining the many aspects of the manuscript that are clues to how it was produced on stage. Then, with reference to twenty-four towns and cities and concentrating on seven, I move in chapter 4 to the question of contemporary reception, how Egmont was produced, seen, and received in Goethe's time, and its playwrights along with it. Chapter 5 concentrates on the literary images in the text of Egmont, in an attempt to show their metaphorical power and their role in making the play revolve around the visual elements. Chapters 6 to 8 explore three fundamental aspects of image: the actor on stage, through an analysis of Iffland as Egmont in the 1796 premiere and of other great actors soon after; Goethe the director, in his role as intendant of the Weimar theatre; and image in society, a reconsideration of Goethe's life at the time he wrote Egmont, from the perspective of his own relationships and activity as a visual artist. Using a method similar to the analysis of contemporary productions in chapter 4, chapter 9 then turns to our own times and to Egmont productions on the modern German stage and on film. Briefly stated, I hope to offer in the following pages new insights into Egmont and its author from a different point of view. As part of the process I present a critical overview of scholarship on the play and integrate many existing studies

8

Images of Goethe through Schiller's Egmont

into my own; Schiller's Egmont manuscript, largely forgotten today but important for an understanding of the play; detailed consideration of Egmont reception in Goethe's time; many relevant pictures, some rare; and a discussion of modern Egmont productions and films.

OVERVIEW OF "EGMONT" S C H O L A R S H I P I have tried as far as possible to absorb and integrate into my study the mass of scholarly literature on Egmont and at the same time to avoid reiterating, retracing, or analysing in depth thematic elements that have been established and well explored by others. But since these are important for a balanced understanding of the play, I offer here an overview of many of the studies I consulted. Others are cited in the chapters as they become relevant. Many critics have included in their work surveys and summaries of previous research on Egmont, each of which differs in extent, selection, and the approach of its author, and all of which became outdated almost from the moment they were written. I hope to bring the picture up to date at least for a short time. Among the more frequent types of critical studies on Egmont are general commentaries on the entire text, analyses of the play's structure and language, thematically focussed discussions on the daemonic and politics, treatments of visual aspects, and, finally, discussions of Schiller's adaptation. I shall order my survey according to these topics and proceed chronologically in an effort to show the development of critical thought about Egmont. General Commentaries

Heinrich Diintzer's positivistic volume of 1858 (2nd ed. 1874), the first major, general treatment of Egmont, still deserves our respect, for it contains much of what many scholars since have merely reiterated and expanded. Besides chapters on the play's genesis (5-14) and sources and structure (15-52), Diintzer offers an act-by-act commentary (53-115), an analysis of the major characters, and a summary of Schiller's adaptation. A similar assiduousness is evident in Ernst Zimmermann's comprehensive and highly methodical book on Egmont (1909), the reprint in 1973 proving its durability as a mine of information on the basic elements of the play: a summary of scholarship to 1909, a detailed analysis of the major characters, social groups and themes (which seem not to have changed much in the critical literature since), autobiographical elements, sources, and genesis. There followed studies indebted to "Geistesgeschichte" and distinguished by their emotional tone, autobiographical linkages, and blithe disdain for documentation, such as that by Linden (1926). Briiggemann (1925), Busch (1949), and Grenzmann (1964) discuss die themes of Egmontin a fashion useful for students and a general readership. In their close reading style, they quote copiously from Goethe's original, but there is little reference to preceding critical

9

Introduction

studies. Wilkinsons article (1949; reprint 1962) is a treasure, and rightly often quoted for decades thereafter. She discusses Egmont's politics, but more importantly, its first eight pages are an eloquent and witty aesthetic discussion, calling for originality in critical interpretation; above all it is an impressive affirmation of the poetic merits of the play within the context of Goethe's work. Hans Wolffs chapter on Egmont in his book on Goethe's Weg zur Humanitat (1951) shows how difficult it is to sew any work seamlessly into the fabric of its authors life and ceuvre; he sometimes stretches the notions of influence and interdependence bizarrely out of shape (Egmont compared with Shakespeare's Julius Caesar [102], Klarchen's language with the metre of the Romische Elegien [112], Brackenburg with Werther [113]). Emil Staiger's treatment in his classic Goethe study a year later, while far more expansive and smooth, nevertheless shares a similar underlying objective: to discuss the work foremost as a means to appreciate its poet. Rudolf Ibel's undated, mid-century, succinct summary of the sources, genesis, and contents of Egmont's, as well as the main thematic thrusts, could still be useful for anyone wanting a quick overview, and some of his points of reference anticipate critical inquiries of more depth to come in the next decades, for example, the play's "balladenhafte Gestaltung" and "sprachliche Gestaltung" (3; see Hof and Schwan below). Besides being a sensible overview, though scarcely touching on other critical studies, the book by the English scholar Ronald Peacock (1959) offers independent opinions and insights: that like Schiller we should resist interpretation on the basis of Egmont's daemon (42); that Schiller's analysis of the play's weaknesses was correct only from the point of view of orthodox dramaturgy; and that Goethe was approaching a new type of drama based on ideals, portraits and ideas (48-9). For him the message of the play is the destruction of a romantic ideal. Paul Bockmann's essay a year later (1960) provides a general discussion of similar quality, which begins by emphasizing the importance of text and dialogue, but goes on to include important thematic aspects. Like Peacock, Bockmann rejects Schiller's adaptation, because it made the play in his mind too causal, thus losing another type of realism which stems from Egmont's "idealische Symbolform" and "musikalische Verflechtung der Motive" (168). Although rarely cited in the critical literature, R.D. Miller's book on Goethe's dramas (1966) contains an independently insightful consideration of the themes in Egmont, based on the polarity between the assertion and denial of life: "The contradiction between life affirmed and life portrayed in terms of tragedy, is the central problem of the play" (42). Millers analysis would be especially useful as an introduction for English-speaking readers, with the frequent citations from Goethe's original all accompanied by translations, although its absence of critical documentation is unacceptable today. Miller's reading contains some idiosyncratic oddities, for example, "Egmont's relations with Klarchen are purely existential, which is what she means when she says that he is to her 'so nur Mensch, nur Freund, nur Liebster'. In meeting on a purely existential plane, they cancel out the categories normally applicable to personal

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Images of Goethe through Schiller's Egmont

relations" (26-7). Yet blind spots such as this do not seriously undermine the value of the contribution. Albert Fuchs (1968) forces Egmont into his book's overall thesis that characters can be divided into contrasting vital or intellectual types. Like more than one literary scholar, Fuchs shows a disturbing bias against Egmont as a theatrical work: "Man weiK, daf? Schiller den 'Egmont' fur die Biihne bearbeitet hat. Man weib auch, dafi diese Bearbeitung nicht durchgedrungen ist. Ihre korrektere Regelrechtheit hat sich als armer erwiesen denn der zuweilen formwidrige, formzweigende Reichtum Goethes" (19). The bias is born of ignorance, for as my fourth and ninth chapters show, Schiller's adaptation long had resonance, and still has today; moreover, anyone who knows the play can see at a glance that Goethe's Egmont is as formally structured as Schiller's in every respect. Roger Nicholls (1970) also offers a good general, if rather unfocussed analysis. Hartmut Reinhardt's article in 1980 is to my taste the best brief modern summary, including an excellent review of much of the most important critical literature and the major themes of the daemonic, politics, and the influence of Italy. This, along with his work as editor of Egmont in the Munchner Ausga.be make him a leading modern critic of the play. Egmont seems to have remained fashionable to some extent in the pedagogy of the 1980s, if we are to judge by Wilhelm GroBe's tightly competent overview (1987). The many Goethe biographies and several single-volume treatments of his works naturally include Egmont, but cannot count among the important contributions to our understanding. Recent examples are Nicholas Boyle's huge Goethe biography (1991; Egmont 356-61) and Benedikt Jefiing's tightly written Metzler overview, including a good summary of the themes and of some of the more important critical studies (1995, 57-63). Wolfgang Fehr's 1994 study on the dramas of Goethe's youth stops short of our play. Structure and Language Jeffrey Sammons's article (1963) goes beyond what we might expect from its title. It begins by discussing the play's structure in terms of acts, scenes, appearance of characters, and motifs, calling it "a balance and symmetry of external construction which is quite out of the ordinary" (245). What does not fit, however, is the final vision scene (247), which he interprets as a movement to a new, dramatically inconsistent, plane on which the new theme of political freedom for the Netherlands becomes central. This he sees as a direct contrast to the foregoing, which focussed entirely on Egmont's personal freedom, even to the detriment of the populace. Sammons's argument, along with some others, was attacked vehemently by John Ellis fifteen years later, as we shall see. Paul Bockmann (1966) makes only passing reference to previous criticism in a footnote (525—6), but he offers an independent analysis of the language of Egmont us part of the overall thesis of his book, an emphasis that sets him apart from most other critics. In what is one of the most important modern discussions,

II Introduction Benjamin Bennett (1979) made Egmont the fulcrum for his bold argument about the contribution of German classicism to modern drama. Bennett bases his analysis on the structure of Egmont, arguing that this structure represents a spiral with the protagonist at its core. He argues that the notion of self-delusion becomes central to Egmont's character and paradigmatic for further developments in European drama. The Daemonic Karl Vietor (1949) discusses Egmont within the section "Natur - Damon und Schicksal" in his classic Goethe book. His close reading of the play concludes, as other studies before him: "dieses Vertrauen in den Damon wird schlieBlich die Ursache von Egmonts Untergang" (53). Hans Naumann (1953) takes the notion one step further in his reading (with almost no reference to other critical studies), inflating the protagonist within the Germanic tradition: "Wir konnen von einem Egmontmythos sprechen, wie wir es tun von einem Balder-, einem Siegfridmythos, und wir sprachen in alien drei Fallen nur von einunddemselben Mythos" (287). While there is little connection between Naumann's main point and Bennett's argument above, the notion of Egmont as paradigmatic is similar. Edith Braemer's (1960) article resulted from a Weimar Goethe colloquium, and despite its heavy Marxist orientation is an instructive discussion of the tension between "Notwendigkeit" and "Freiheit." Konrad Schaums broad understanding of the daemonic (1960) includes the wider context of Goethe's oeuvre in a learned and sensible analysis.IIse Graham (1988) allies herself with Helmut Reinhardt (179, fn. 6), but her treatment contains many subtleties that transcend his overview, particularly in her discussion of Egmont as actor (183) and the image of the horse (187-91), both of which are important for my study. Finally, I must mention W. Daniel Wilson's fascinating recent article on gender crossing in Alice Kuzniar's important new book on Goethe (1996). Wilson reexamines Egmont from the point of view of gender, breaking entirely new ground, a point of view which is certainly related to the concept of the daemonic. He reassesses all the major figures in the play, concluding convincingly that we must rethink our notions of masculinity and femininity in this work and in others. Politics

The first person to represent the position that political themes dominate in Egmont was Karl Rosenkranz (1847) whose positivistic book defended Goethe's alteration of some of the fundamental facts about Egmont to make it more "allgemein menschlich (232)." He concludes that the play is "ein politisches Drama" (225) in the sense that it is an exploration of the concepts of bourgeois freedom, absolutism, and monarchy. Georg Keferstein (1937) also contributed a solid, methodical overview of Egmont's political stance, but insisted on its

12, Images of Goethe through Schiller's Egmont apolitical nature. These opposite conclusions laid the ground for later studies supporting one side or the other. Wilhelm Mommsen's book (1948) on Goethe's political views is not strictly a literary study and surprisingly refers to Egmont only occasionally, but the late sixties, as we might expect, saw a fresh emphasis on political diematics. Horst Hartmann (1967) saw the play as distinctly political, and from his GDR-perspective (similar to Edith Braemer's in 1960), a testimony to the liberating spirit of a suppressed people. The Volk as an identifiable political entity was central to the interpretations of politically oriented critics like these, but a weakness in their approach becomes evident from more sophisticated analyses. Harry Haile's solid article (1967) shows how Goethe's evolving political views were reflected in Egmont and how these views parallel the play's organic genesis over many years. For Haile, Egmont and his author could be characterized by "organic traditionalism," Alba and his ilk by "rational meliorism" (103). Klaus Ziegler's close reading of Egmont as a political drama (1968), which contains no references to other critical studies, is in effect an argument that the play is not strictly political at all. He blends textual analysis with biographical and historical references to argue in a philosophical more than a political sense that Egmont reflects the German " Volksidee" and anticipates the enlightenment sense of "Nationalidee." The Marxist approach is again at the core of Hans-Dietrich Dahnke's long and comprehensive contribution (1970), one which convinces this reader at least that Egmont lends itself well to that school of thought. He concludes: "Egmont reprasentiert die Nation, und sein Tod ist eine Fackel, die die Nation in eine helle Zukunft fiihrt. In diesem Drama ist eine ganze Nation durch den despotischen Anspruch provoziert, und in der historischen Replik, die die SchluBvision antizipiert, eroffnet sich eine Perspektive, die dem Tod des Helden einen tieferen Sinn verleiht" (59). It will be interesting in our later chapter on modern Egmont productions to see how this scene was depicted in the two parts of Germany. Peter Michelsen, in an article impressive for its scholarly foundation and extensive references to previous critical literature (1971), reached the different yet equally sensible conclusion, that Egmont's acceptance of his fate because of the political reality is tantamount to his liberation since he escapes from this realm to realize his freedom in another, as signalled by the final vision (297). In the same year, Martin Swales delivered a lucidly argued, and subsequently controversial interpretation which, while concentrating initially on the ending of Egmont, made its strongest statements about the protagonist's political stance. He refers, as ironically John Ellis later does, to Elizabeth Wilkinson's 1949 treatment as the best to date, and also provides a tight and fair-minded summary of studies before his own. Swales writes that Egmont's reaction to political events was simply irrational, i.e., he refused to believe and act on what was obvious to anyone observing the political events occurring before his very eyes (835). He accepted the adulation of the people but resisted any responsibility to act on their behalf (836). In the final scenes, with Ferdinand and in the vision, he accepted the apparent fulfillment

13 Introduction offered, yet these were merely half-truths about his real nature. Swales concludes that Egmont is deliberately a "complex and political daydreaming dialectic of affirmation and criticism" (835-6). Irmgard Hobson's article (1975) is perhaps the best analysis of the Egmont/Oranien/Alba scenes and is based solidly in previous studies. She argues from the perspective of an audience member, is transparently logical, and concludes that in the Egmont/Oranien dealings, personal considerations dominate over political ones, whereas between Egmont and Alba it is the reverse. A separate paragraph must be devoted to the Egmont feud carried on for a decade between George A. Wells and John Ellis, two critics who possess admirable critical insight, yet whose interpretations were diametrically opposed and resulted in personal confrontation. The dispute began in 1970 with Wells's idiosyncratic close reading which cited the behaviour of caterpillars and oxen as the first step towards some sweeping generalizations about human nature, Egmonts daemon, and his political stance (54-5). With frequent reference to the studies of fellow countrymen Peacock and Wilkinson, Wells claimed that quasireligious and metaphysical views of "das Damonische" have obscured a more scientific interpretation, namely, that social behaviour is dictated by two complementary forces or instincts, to lead or to follow; Egmont is clearly characterized by the former, his fellow-citizens by the latter (58). Wells concludes that Egmonts daemon is a much more important force in this play than political insight. Eight years later, John Ellis took Wells and others to task, providing not just an incisive essay but fireworks in his searing attack. In arguing against calling Egmont politically irresponsible, he notes that scholars such as Swales, Sammons, and Wells would have spared us their negative and erroneous assessments of Egmonts political position (120), had they paid attention to Wilkinson's masterful article of 1949 which overturned the until then predominant view that Egmont was a careless, almost irresponsible politician. Wells quickly retaliated in an article on "critical issues" concerning Egmont (1979). For Wells the crisis revolved around the nature of Ellis's argument, "not so much because of its specific claims and the evidence offered in support of them, but because of the wider issue of what constitutes evidence and argument in literary criticism" (301). He doubts Ellis's judgement of Wilkinson and even his ability to measure the value of one critical study against another. He rejects Ellis's support of Wilkinson's (and Schiller's) argument that Egmont is irresponsible as a politician and loses the audience's sympathy as a result. What is more, in an arrogantly condescending conclusion Wells takes it upon himself to lecture Ellis on the methodology of reading and understanding metaphors (305—6). His adversary countered with what at first appeared to be the knockout blow in 1981, summarizing what he saw as Wells's unfair, often misinformed, and downright ingenuous arguments, defending and reinforcing his own position. Wells returned to the fight almost a decade later (1988-89), continuing to lecture Ellis on metaphors and analogies. Still as much an animal lover as in 1970, this time he started with Pavlov's dogs, adding birds,

14 Images of Goethe through Schiller's Egmont bats, and snakes. The general part of this article is indeed instructive, as are the later examples in Egmont, and Wells updates his thinking to include an assessment of more recent scholarship, foremost that of Hartmut Reinhardt who at times replaces Ellis as a punching bag. Wells rejects important parts of Reinhardt's argument, calling abstruse academic language one of its main faults, which "disease" he sees as "a marked feature of literary criticism, and in Germany the style goes back at least to the days when transcendental philosophy was in vogue ... Schopenhauer" (8). Egmont becomes a crucible for Wells's general critique of modern scholarship, and of German academe in particular. Still, he reserved the final sally for Ellis, concluding: "From this we may gather that there could be no clearer illustration than our controversy as to why I find the views of so many literary critics unacceptable, and of how my views appear to them" (12). Jiirgen Schroder either ignored, or was oblivious to, this controversy when he published his stimulating essay in the Hinck volume on historical drama (1981). Here politics is defined within broader terms, Schroder claiming: "Dieses Werk, das im Laufe seiner dissonanten Wirkungsgeschichte so oft in den Verdacht geriet, weder ein historisches Drama noch ein politisches Freiheitsdrama zu sein, ist in Wahrheit ein besonders durchdachtes und potenziertes Geschichtsschauspiel" (103). Despite an annoying habit of citing other scholars without adequate referencing - how is this possible in the eighties and in the hands of such a distinguished editor? — Schroder provides an insightful analysis, one which is in many ways similar to that attempted by previous GDR critics, but in a less ideological and more palatable manner. His conclusion: "Egmont ist eine symbolische Figur, kein Einzelner. In ihm begegnete Goethe dem idealtypischen Inbild seiner personlichen Geschichtserfahrung und vorrevolutionaren Geschichtshoffnung, und alle seine Veranderungen am historischen Vorbild dienen der Absicht, diese Reprasentanz noch reiner zu gestalten" (106). Volkmar Braunbehrens' first of two articles (1980) is distinguished by the sheer inventiveness and insight of his close reading. His somewhat didactic subtitle, "Zweite Lektiire iiber einen Helden Goethes," is followed by the promise of a new Egmont book, which as far as I know has never appeared, regrettable in light of this author s insights. He shows Egmont as essentially a dreamer, incapable of coming to grips with the political reality of his situation, sleepy, distracted, even a "Spinner" (26). The section "Wochenkind und Riese" is an inventive interpretation of the hero as child, with evidence from both text and psycholanalytical theory (27-34). In his second article (1982), Braunbehrens focusses on connections to Weimar politics in Goethes time: "Die Beziige auf die Weimarer Verhaltnisse sind so evident, dafS sie im Kontext der Entstehungsgeschichte nur benannt zu werden brauchen" (95), which he goes on to do convincingly. Not so far from diis in approach is Renato Saviane's 1987 essay whose title, "Egmont, ein politischer Held," misleads, for it is less a study of Egmont and more a treatment of several plays within the broad context of eighteenth-

ij

Introduction

century absolutism and politics. Recently, Gonthier-Louis Fink's outstanding article (1990) has sliced through the socioethnographic layers of Egmont's Volk with clinical precision to reveal it as "vielgestaltig und vielfaltig" (240) in attitude, political philosophy, and national character. Like Braunbehrens, Dieter Borchmeyer (1994) has offered a contemporary understanding of the political themes, arguing that the play contains "eine verdeckte Polemik gegen die Politik Josephs II." (49). He points out that the little Duchy of Saxe-Weimar was fearful of Emperor Joseph's expansionist plans, which had again jeopardized the independence of the Netherlands and caused a revolt in 1787—89. We recall Goethe's own comment on the play's ongoing relevance. As an agent of the Weimar court, even Goethe himself was followed by the Emperor's spies while in Rome (160). Finally, W. Daniel Wilson (1994) provides brilliant observations on the politics of Egmont as well as other Goethe works through the motif of hunger. His invigorating article links textual elements directly with the stage performance of the citizen scenes (86—7). The Visual Few studies have emphasized the importance of visual elements in Egmont, the focus of my interest in this book. The final vision scene has naturally played a role in some, but almost always because of its thematic importance rather than theatrical effect, and little has been written about how it was in fact performed in various productions. Walter Hof (1950) begins with the notion that Egmont has a balladic structure, that is, "keine im engen Sinn dramatische Spannung, sondern jene, wie sie zwischen den Einzelbildern der Ballade ensteht, deren Zusammenhang der Horer umso sicherer, grofier und groKfarbiger herstellt, je verhaltener er verschwiegen wird, und je groBer also die Spannung zwischen den Bildern ist, je weniger sie sich entwickeln, je mehr sie einfach da sind" (91). HoPs is one of the few older studies to step outside the heavily cited conventional interpretations stressing Egmont's daemon or the political intrigue. His was a modern eye which appreciated the impact of the play's powerful images on audiences then and now. Almost four decades later, Werner Schwan showed similar insight: "TableaumaBig werden Situationen und Konfigurationen nebeneinandergeriickt, subtil und differenziert ausgemalt, aufeinander mit ihrem Stimmungs— und Ideengehalt bezogen, so da6 sie sich wechselseitig erhellen" (61). Unfortunately, Schwan fails to carry this thematic strand through, shifting his argument to consider other aspects, but his emphasis in the early pages on the "Bildhaftigkeit" of the play is valuable. Both he and Hof were taking up something that Schiller had stressed two centuries before in his review of Egmont in 1788, no doubt the most quoted since, and one which I will be able to consider in some detail in chapters 6-8. Finally, while not a work on the visual elements, Calhoun's detailed, knowledgeable study (1987) on the relationship between Egmont And Beethoven's music should be seen in

16 Images of Goethe through Schiller's Egmont

: same vein, i.e., as recognizing the importance of extratextual, sensory ele:nts of production. Schiller's Adaptation irold Walters slim volume (62pp., 1959) attempts to show that Goethe's play, hiller's 1788 review, and the latter's adaptation of 1796 were the products of the o authors' personality types, personal interactions, and backgrounds. His arti: in the same year presents the same argument in abbreviated form, strongly voured by biographical elements and the school of "Geistesgeschichte," with irked condescension toward Schiller who is portrayed as incapable of underinding Goethe's sophisticated poetics and aesthetics, but fortunate to have en at least exposed to them. Obviously foremost a Goethe disciple, Walter has ithing good to say about Schiller's adaptation (339). Heinrich Henel (1963) prents a thorough overview of scholarship on the genesis of Egmont before his m analysis of die play, but astonishingly Schiller's version is not included in e process. He offers this excuse: "This modest enterprise, this piece of literary :tective work, cannot contribute much to the understanding of the play, but I >pe that it will contribute to its appreciation" (n). The distinction, for me, is isive. Lesley Sharpe's thorough scholarly essay takes up the topic again (1982), fering intense analysis of both Schiller's review of Goethe's Egmont and of the ay itself, from the point of view of Schiller's own dramaturgy. Sigrid SiedhofFs iblished Bonn dissertation Der Dramaturg Schiller. "Egmont". Goethes Text — •killers Bearbeitung (1982.) is the most extensive work on die subject to date and so covers ground common to my first two chapters. Unlike my study, however, :r focus throughout is on Schiller's dramaturgy. The heart of this solid study is detailed comparison of Schiller's and Goethe's versions, showing how their difrences illuminate Schiller's version. There is also a useful overview of criticism i the Goethe-Schiller-^gwow? triangle (29-35), though Siedhoff unfairly dislisses Walter's 1959 study completely (33), and a chapter on reception in Goethe's me. As part of her foundation, SiedhofF reviews the manuscript material id earliest publication of Schiller's adapation, essentially condensing informaon already published in Borcherdt's volume xm of the Schiller Nationalausibe, but she makes no mention of the Mannheim manuscript which is my asis. NOTES ON METHODOLOGY

lany scholars, theatre semioticians, performance analysts, sociologists, and aniropologists, who have written little or nothing on Goethe or Egmont, have sntributed greatly to my approach.3 As was the case with the Egmont literature, ic direct points of contact between my analysis and their work are recognized 'ithin my argument, but such occcasional acknowledgement is insufficient.

17 Introduction The gradual shift in approach I experienced while reading these theorists cannot be reduced to specific borrowings, but is rather the cumulative result of my exposure to them. This summary of their approaches may thus be of interest. My methodology is dependent upon several theoretical and interpretive schools, among them the semiology of theatre. Tadeusz Kowzan's separation of theatrical sign systems into thirteen groups in "Le signe au theatre" (1968) is fundamental to my understanding of this approach, as it has been for many theatre semioticians after him. His agreement with the founders of semiotics and semiology, Ferdinand de Saussure and Charles Peirce, that "Tout est signe dans la representation theatrale," and that the concept "signe" must be divided into "signiflant" (in English signifier, the form of the sign) and "signifie"' (in English signified or referent, the reality corresponding to the sign) remains basic for our understanding (64-7). Not so his agreement with Saussure that signs should be divided into "signes naturels" (causal signs, as smoke and fire) and "signes artificiels" (voluntary signs, as the crown referring to royalty; 67), the distinction having been rejected by later critics such as Patrice Pavis, with whom I agree. The argument for excluding natural signs from theatre semiology is based on the logical notion that all theatre differs from life and is artificial, but as we will see in Goethe's "acting" on stage, as director, and in society, the realms can overlap. Kowzan grouped theatrical sign systems into clusters around spoken text, mime, gestures, sets, and sound effects, all of which play a part in my analysis, but he omitted from his clusters one of the potentially most important dimensions of theatre semiology, the social milieu beyond the text and its performance, which I do include. Patrice Pavis's extensive work on theatre semiology has contributed much to the modern commitment of many scholars to performance analysis as opposed to purely textual criticism of dramatic works. A crucial point for him is "no longer whether 'textual semiology (is) opposed to performance semiology,' but whether a text can be analyzed semiotically before (without) the performance during which the text is enunciated. Are we not in fact engaged in performance semiology when we reflect on the text's 'situation of enunciation,' and, in consequence, on the mise en scene" (29)? My answer is "yes." But Pavis's rhetorical question reminds me to look at texts sceptically and to go beyond them to include Kowzan's (and others') extratextual signs, in other words to strike a compromise between text and performance. Pavis shows that by doing this we can fruitfully extend our analytical method from simply enunciating text to searching for units of meaning in the process of stage symbolization. Instead of treating the text alone as an icon (a representative, symbolic object) to be decoded, many aspects of performance can also be treated iconologically to reveal broader possibilities of codification and insight. The extreme of Pavis's argument denigrates the fixed text in favour of the ephemeral actuality of performance, an extreme that has led some modern performance analysts to claim that any consciously repeated action is theatre: sport, social dance, the conventions of

I8 Images of Goethe through Schiller's Egmont courting in everyday life, even brushing one's teeth before the mirror. There is some merit in this argument, but its lack of insistence on a textual basis, at least as a starting point for performance variation, is a weakness, as is its ignorance of aesthetics as a measure of theatrical significance. Despite my scepticism about the absolute primacy of text and my appreciation of extra textual semiological elements for performance analysis, I shall argue that text and aesthetics (Goethe's concept as director) are fundamentally important for our understanding of his theatre. Erika Fischer-Lichte has led the way in suggesting methodological approaches for modern scholars interested in German theatre, although her scope is much broader, as indicated in the standard Semiotik des Theaters. These writings link broad European and North American theatre semiological theory to German examples, especially the so-called classical writers such as Goethe. Her article, "The performance as 'interpretant' of the drama," (1987) also provides a valuable evaluation and extension of Kowzan and Pavis. After acknowledging with her predecessors the necessity of differentiating between two semiotic systems, written language (text, script) and theatre language (spoken language, non-verbal signs), her main concern becomes "the conditions that make it possible to transform the text of a written language into a performance" (199). While believing that verbal signs of the drama can be transformed into theatrical signs, she is left with the problem of isolating the general condition of transformation, or how exactly the verbal signs (text, script) should be manifested. To answer that, Fischer-Lichte reverts to what she considers an even more basic level than dramatic dialogue, that of character (203). When transforming a text/script into performance the process must begin with a reading of the drama and end with three possible modes of transformation: linear, which usually follows the order of the verbal signs in the dramatic text; structural, which proceeds from more complex cohesive elements of the literary text such as character, action, space, and scene; and global, which derives from the meaning of the written play as a whole (204—7). Two points are important here for my attempt to understand Goethe. First, Fischer-Lichte starts with text. Secondly, the three modes of transformation offer different, but by no means mutually exclusive, avenues for investigation. When we look at Goethe's theatre, we will be entering all three modes, and clearly, as we move from linear to global transformation, we will become increasingly less dependent on text and more open to adaptation. But I question Fischer-Lichte's further point that "on Goethe's Weimarian stage ... the linear transformation was the dominating tendency. Since Goethe held the language of the dialogues to be the most important part of the performance, he explained each sentence, telling the actor what to stress, when to raise the voice, and where to pause. His attention was focussed mainly on the sequence of the characters' speeches" (207). While there is no doubt that Goethe placed great emphasis on the language of dialogues, as reported mainly by his actors themselves, other evidence, such as his "Regeln fur

19 Introduction Schauspieler" and his admiration for great actors such as Iffland and Pius Alexander Wolff, or his intense involvement in set design, speak against the isolation of dialogue and linear transformation as the dominant mode. Moreover, FischerLichte's point here is highly restrictive, applying only to the Weimar stage under Goethe's direction, and even then, what script or text exactly is meant? Every one of his works has a multiple text base, and as the example of Egmont will show, even the critically accepted texts known to scholars remain incomplete and often fail to include manuscripts, prompters emendations, and performances of Goethe's works on stages other than Weimar. Consideration of Goethe's theatre must have a foot in Weimar, but only one. The other must be planted in various places and at various times, those contemporary to Goedie and our own. The cluster of attributes omitted by Kowzan is the focus of sociosemioticians such as Jean Alter, whose work (1990) helps us to link the stage with its audience. Semiologists have long been using the word code as the key to establishing and understanding the relationship between signifier and signified, the two essential elements of the theatrical sign. Through coding we can think of systems of signs which operate within specific frameworks, themselves related to theatrical, cultural, and social traditions. Kowzan's "signifie" (signified or referent) is understandable within terms of a specific code, and differently within terms of other codes by individuals who act as interpreters of the signs within the codes, or as interpretants, to use a term common in semiological analysis. More than one code can apply if performance occurs more than once, since production, time, and place all change, and even within the same performance, for individual interpretants and groupings of them operate by different codes. Alter discusses this as the necessarily imperfect communication between sender and receiver of the referent (27). Imagine, for example the reaction of children versus adults to either scatological or sexual humour or gestures. We are also reminded that "not all systems of signs are equally suited to convey all referents. Natural language, for example, excels in communicating abstract concepts but not physical appearance; pictures, in contrast, show appearances with great efficiency but deal poorly with ideas. In theory, using many systems of signs, theatre could be expected to be able to handle almost any imaginable referents. In practice, however, because it favours actors as its signs, theatre mainly focuses on concrete people: their actions, feelings, problems. It has more trouble communicating abstract notions, although it often attempts to do so with verbal signs" (26). I am not sure that Alters concerns about the imperfection of communication between sender and interpretant, or about the theatres focus on concrete people should be shared. It is not mandatory that the intended referent of the playwright, actor, or director be understood within the same code by the interpretant, although if the sender understands the audience it likely will be, and for some cohesion of reception it must be. But if it is understood differently, the performance can nevertheless be successful from the perspective of the

lo

Images of Goethe through Schiller's Egmont

audience. Furthermore, it is through theatre's focus on concrete people that abstract notions can be approached as well. Most important is Alters further assertion that multiple understandings of referents, or "semiotic malaise," is evidence of unconscious social differences or tensions (29) and that the central purpose of sociosemiotics is to show these. I would extend this notion to a consideration of Goethe's theatre and apply it not only to his own time but also to our own. Alter makes a clear distinction between icons and symbols, the former resembling the material form of the referent (the degree of iconicity being determined by the extent of resemblance), the latter having no perceptible resemblance with the referent (27), and he calls theatre "the most iconic of mediums" (28), since the actors stand for real characters and their dialogue for exactly what those characters say. This seems to stretch the point, for is a realistic painting or sculpture not just as or even more iconic? There is a fundamental difference between iconic and symbolic signs, as Alter notes, the former resembling the material form of the referent, the latter not, the degree of resemblance being the factor which determines more or less iconicity. I stress this distinction, since it will be important for approaching Goethe's theatre. Discussion of the word icon stretches over several chapters in my study, and the word will be applied to a number of physical depictions in Egmont, to its protagonist, and to its author. Alter further focuses on the difference between referential functions in communication, i.e., signs that aim at imparting information and suggesting relationships, and performant functions, i.e., communication that simply satisfies our natural desire to achieve or witness something extraordinary (32). At the heart of this differentiation lies the Horatian "prodesse et delectare" in art - in terms of the present study: to what end do playwrights, directors, actors, and audiences create, produce, and witness theatre? Sociosemiologists point to the competing sides of homo sapiens and homo ludens, the former akin to the referentially-tuned theatre-goer, the latter to the theatre-goer interested primarily in gratuitous behaviour according to arbitrary rules, which amuses but has no direct effect on the viewers' life (39). Embedded within the concepts of referential and nonreferential (ludic) performance is the notion of social ritual, those minidramas we all act out in real life, be it in front of the bathroom mirror or at the altar, both of which may contain referential and ludic elements and can be imitated on stage (47). In the case of Goedie's theatre, the concept of social ritual is especially important since the context of its creation sealed every hint of elemental intercourse below a crust of social ritual. Only by poking holes in this surface can the steam escape. The Horatian balance between referential performance for homo sapiens and pure entertainment for homo ludens must be measured first from the perspective of Goethe's theory and practice and from that of his actors, his audiences, and then from the perspective of modern adapters, directors, and audiences. Much can be gained by looking at investigations of social dynamics from a theatrical point of view, rather than the reverse. Elizabeth Burns's categorization

2i

Introduction

of life in terms of theatre is an extremely useful study (1972). A. Paul Hare and David Blumberg (1988) have provided an instructive compilation of leading social scientists' thinking on this question since the fifties. Their chapter, "Presentation of the Self," draws parallels between a staged theatre production in which an actor who, to be effective, calls on personal experience, and individuals in everyday life who feel called upon to present an image of the self in daily social intercourse (27). Guru Erving Goffmann suggested that all persons involved in social interaction are primarily trying to save face in the social context, there being two types of such "face work," avoidance processes (the use of go-betweens or third parties to avoid actions or situations that would be inconsistent with the desired "face") and corrective processes (which minimize the effects of undesired social interactions that have nevertheless occurred). It does not take a great deal of imagination to apply both of these processes to social interaction on the stage. Also transferable are the socioscientific concepts of "monodrama" and "altercasting." In monodrama a person tries to change the way in which he or she is seen. In altercasting, a person induces others to play preferred auxiliary roles. Connections with Egmont's personality and Klarchen's role at the end of the play are obvious. Such thinking is also relevant for Goethe whose multiple functions as actor, writer, civil servant, intendant, scientist, and private citizen added up to an unusually wide personal repertoire. Theatre anthropologists, such as Richard Schechner (1985), offer an intriguing perspective on life and the stage, the kind of scholarship that is both entertaining to read and intellectually revealing. In Between Theater and Anthropology Schechner joins avant-garde theatre practitioners, such as Peter Brook and Eugenio Barba, in posing a fundamental question about the transcultural potential of theatrical activity: to what extent does any performance (staged or not so) reflect or touch deep human experience in all cultures (27-9)? This is a useful question in the case of Goethe, for on the one hand his theatre is firmly lodged in his society, time, aesthetics, and ethic; on the other hand, he is often called a universal poet. Moreover, for Schechner and his ilk, the issue of the comparability of staged theatre and everyday theatre action is central. "What then formally separates acting in the strictly theatrical sense from behaving in the ordinary sense?" he asks, and responds (here engaged in a bit of role playing or corrective processing himself): "From Goffman's point of view ... nothing. The theatrical event is theater only because it is framed as theater, presented as theater, received as theater. Just as the message 'this is play' identifies play behaviour, so the message 'this is theater' identifies theatrical behaviour" (311). Inside either, every kind of behaviour is possible and is indeed presented. This is a challenging notion indeed and may be instructive when applied to Goethe's stage. (Even readers who see little merit in theatre anthropology must read Schechner's chapter on "News, Sex, and Performance Theory" which describes the exploits of Belle de Jour, though I can take no responsibility for the consequences.) Schechner's thoughts are not unlike those expressed by Jarno to Goethe's young

22

Images of Goethe through Schiller's Egmont

Wilhelm Meister: "Wissen Sie denn, mein Freund, ... daB Sie nicht das Theater, sondern die Welt beschrieben haben, und daB ich Ihnen aus alien Standen genug Figuren und Handlungen zu Ihren harten Pinselstrichen finden wollte? Verzeihen Sie mir, ich muB wieder lachen, daB Sie glaubten, diese schonen Qualitaten seien nur auf die Breter gebannt" (WA i, 2.3, 25); or Therese's recollections of her differentiation between actor and person in experiencing theatre life in her family: "Ich kann Ihnen gar nicht sagen, wie lacherlich mir es vorkam, wenn die Menschen, die ich alle recht gut kannte, sich verldeidet hatten, da droben standen und fur etwas anders, als sie waren, gehalten sein wollten. Ich sah immer nur meine Mutter und Lydien, diesen Baron und jenen Sekretar, sie mochten nun als Fiirsten und Grafen oder als Bauern erscheinen, und ich konnte nicht begreifen, wie sie mir zumuthen wollten zu glauben, dafi es ihnen wohl oder wehe sei, daB sie verliebt oder gleichgiiltig, geizig oder freigebig seien, da ich doch meist von dem Gegentheile genau unterrichtet war" (47—8). In chapters 7 and 8 the interplay between Goethe the actor on the stage of the private theatre and the audience that watched will show that they, too, had difficulty in distinguishing between the stage character and the person who played it.

Figure i Egmont, Mannheim Manuscript, p. 177, from Borcherdt, Schillers Werke, Nationalausgabe, xin, i, 290. See p. 27.

Figure 2 Egmont, Stadtisches Rei6Museum Mannheim, Manuscript M372, p. 177. See p. 27.

I Egmont as Text: Scholarly Documentation

EDITIONS OF EGMONT

A number of scholarly editions of the play provide the foundation for our understanding of it. Primary among these is Egmont. Ein Tmuerspiel in fiinf Aufzugen in the Weimareror Sophien-Ausgabe, I, 8 (1889), 171-305, edited by Jacob Minor and Bernhard Suphan (hereafter WA). Like most of the works in the WA, this version corresponds to that in Goethe's Werke. VollstdndigeAusga.be letzter Hand, vin (Stuttgart, Tubingen: Cotta, 1828), 175-315. In the appendix (340-64) Minor lists the earlier editions: eight from Goschen in Leipzig between 1788 and 1803, and four from Cotta in Stuttgart/Tubingen between 1807 and 1828, the last of which serves as the basis for the WA printing; two extant manuscripts, one in Goethe's hand, the other a copy by Christian Georg Karl Vogel (1760—1819) with corrections by Johann Gottfried Herder (1744-1803) and an unknown hand; and the variants contained in editions and manuscripts alike. Although the variants number in the hundreds, which is normal for a textual comparison of the period, they are in sum trivial, or at best, in a very few cases, minor. In other words, the textual legacy of Goethe's Egmont up to the point of the "Ausgabe letzter Hand" is unusually straightforward and clear. After listing the editions of Egmont, Minor adds: "Die Schillersche Biihnenbearbeitung des Egmont, ein unverachtliches Snick in jeder kritischen Ausgabe von Schillers Werken, hat in den Werken Goethes nicht ihren Platz" (343). His confidence that the adaptation has no place in an edition of Goethe's works is based, apparently, on its impurity. The same decision has been taken generally by Minor's successors, the editors of Egmont within subsequent major editions of Goethe's works: Eduard von der Hellen and Franz Muncker in the Jubiltiums-

25

Egmont as Text

ausgabe (1902-12); Robert Petsch in the Festausgabe (1926-7); Erich Trunz and Wolfgang Kayser in the Hamburger Ausga.be (1953); Ernst Beutler and Kurt May in the Gedenkausgabe (1948-60); Regine Otto et al in the Berliner Ausgabe (1960-74); and most recently Norbert Miller and Hartmut Reinhardt in the Munchner and Dieter Borchmeyer in the Frankfurter Ausgabe (1985-8). None of these includes Schiller's adaptation. If their editorial judgment is sound, then why is the work routinely included in Schiller's collected works of similar stature (e.g. the National- and Hanserausgaben), for there is no doubt that more of it was written by Goethe than by him? The well known cooperation between Goethe and Schiller on the adaptation, and its importance for the performance history of Egmont, call Minors judgement and that of subsequent editors of Egmont into question. Of the major editions of Goethe's works that appeared after the WA, I shall restrict my comments here to the Hamburger (hereafter HA), the Frankfurter (FA), and the Munchner Ausgabe (MA), besides the WA the most frequently cited by modern scholars. Egmont, originally critically edited by Wolfgang Kayser, appears in Volume iv of the Hamburger Ausgabe (nth ed. 1982, 370-454, Ed. Erich Trunz). In the afterword (596—617), the editors provide a precis of the genesis of the work, an account of Goethe's historical sources and his adaptation of them, a twelve-page analysis of structure and themes, a cursory note on performance history, and a statement of sources which parallels that in the WA. While the editors of the HA chose the first edition of Egmont for their text base as opposed to the Ausgabe letzter Hand used for the WA, the differences are insignificant. The brief note on performance history deals mainly with Schiller's adaptation, but in a decidedly derogatory tone - "Die Struktur und vor allem die dichterische Schonheit des Dramas war damit zerstort" (611) - an aesthetic condemnation understandable for a scholar writing in 1953 when the edition first appeared, but less so by the time of its revision in 1982. For his edition of Egmont in the FA Dieter Borchmeyer uses the 1788 edition of Goethe's play (Leipzig: Goschen), yet only indirectly via its printing in the Berliner Akademie-Ausgabe of 1957, "der erste zuverlassige Abdruck der Handschrift" (1234). While it is somewhat surprising that an edition of such magnitude as the FA would base its text on that of another edition instead of on the manuscript itself, one cannot quarrel with its adherence to the 1788 version. In his brief comments on Schiller's adaptation (1256-7), Borchmeyer recognizes its crucial importance for the success of Egmont on stage, yet generally gives its performance history short shrift. Norbert Miller and Hartmut Reinhardt in die MA have provided an exemplary text and notes to which all modern scholars must refer. In such an edition it is impossible not to re-tread familiar ground, yet at the same time, in their extensive review of the genesis of the play, its historical background, form, themes, and reception, these editors show evidence of fresh research and insight. A facsimile reproduction of Goethe's manuscript of 1787 (see WA I, 8, 343-45: H1), which they

16 Images of Goethe through Schiller's Egmont insist must be seen as authoritative (863), serves as their source. In discussing the history of the reception of Egmont, Miller and Reinhardt pay some attention to Schiller's adaptation, including an acknowledgement that it triggered the play's success in performance, but also this general appraisal: "es fehlt der Sinn fur das Schicksalsglaubige, das Damonisch-Genialische des Charakters, aber auch fur die Symbiose von Wort und Musik, von poetischen und 'opernhafteri Elementen, die Goethe anvisiert" (83If). While these editors do not follow the path of those who can only decry Schiller's adaptation as an aesthetic distortion, they nevertheless betray a conviction that adaptations somehow should represent all that the original contained. What is an adaptation if not an alteration of the original for a different purpose, in this case for effectiveness on stage? Had Schiller captured all that Goethe's original offered, and in similar ways, he would scarcely have produced an adaptation at all and would have contributed to the continuing failure of Egmont in dieatres instead of its fair success. Schiller's adaptation of Egmont was based on the first edition (Leipzig: Goschen, 1788) and is included in Volume xIII of his Werke, Nationalausgabe, edited by Hans Heinrich Borcherdt (Weimar: Bohlau 1949), 1-72, with notes appended. Borcherdt presents both Goethe's original Egmont and Schiller's adaptation, as well as adjustments at several stages, interlacing the two through the use of various typefaces and sizes (system described on 335). The printing, definitive for modern scholarship, takes account of the relationship between Goethe and Schiller and also of the contemporary events which brought about the adaptation. The following statement by Borcherdt makes clear his assessment of the importance of the collaboration, and can at the same time be taken as one rationale for my anchoring of the present study in this play: "Es gibt kein besseres Musterbeispiel, um den Unterschied zwischen Lesedrama und Biihnenstuck zu veranschaulichen, als die Gegeniiberstellung von Goethes Dichtung und Schillers Theaterbearbeitung" (306). My reasons for choosing Egmont as a focus go further, however. They begin with an inspection of Borcherdt's generally excellent account of his manuscript sources, which include (322, 326-33): - the 1788 printing of Goethe's Egmont, on which Schiller made initial notes for the adaptation; - a handwritten copy of this annotated version by the copyist Wilhelm Schumann, corrected by Schiller, produced in 1796 (designated by Borcherdt as h1), which served as the source for Borcherdt's printing; - a handwritten copy of this copy, which presumably contained further corrections by Schiller and also presumably served as the director's and prompter's copy for die premiere, but which has been lost, presumably burned in the Weimar theatre fire of 1825;

27

Egmont as Text

- the so-called "Mannheimer Theatermanuskript," call number M372 in the Mannheim Schlofimuseum (designated by Borcherdt as h2), and apparently identical to the manuscript I have consulted in the Mannheim ReiB-Museum and used as the starting point for my study; - a manuscript in Goethe's papers, now in the Weimar archives (designated by Borcherdt as h3), the work of the scribe John,1 which takes account of the "Schillerschen Bearbeitung von 1796 mit all den Zusatzen, die sich auch aus der Mannheimer Handschrift im verlorenen Weimarer Dirigierbuch erschlieBen lassen" (331); - a manuscript which served as a director's book for the Weimar theatre, also in the Weimar archives (Staatstheater Nr 236), which has as its base Goethe's original five-act version, but also takes into account some of Schiller's changes (designated by Borcherdt as h4); - finally, a manuscript located in the Stadt-und Universitatsbibliodiek, Frankfurt (Nr 356) which is "unzweifelhaft eine Abschrift der Mannheimer Theaterhandschrift h2, nur mit dem Unterschied, daB dortige spatere Regiestriche hier beriicksichtigt und dadurch weitere Kiirzungen vorgenommen wurden [major deletions then listed]" (designated by Borcherdt as h5).2 As part of his appended materials, Borcherdt supplies a complete list of variants between all of the manuscripts and h1 (335-47). These show that he did indeed have before him (among others) the Mannheim manuscript M372 (h2), the text of which I hereafter offer transcribed in full. But we must be careful with his list of emendations, for it is incomplete. An astonishing example is his omission of the variant "mit schwarzen Manteln" (manuscript, 265, Borcherdt, 346) at the beginning of the crucial scene of Egmont's sentencing. Borcherdt includes a facsimile photograph of page 177 of h1 (289) which causes further alarm. Page 177, a portion of II, 10 when Richard interrupts Egmont and Klarchen to bring warning, is an almost clean page in Borcherdt's photograph, the only mark beyond the text itself being a line deleting a Klarchen speech (see Figure I, p. 23): The Mannheim manuscript as it exists today carries not just that deletion, but also a line deleting the whole page, a deletion which in its entirety runs from p. 174 to 181, in other words all of II, 10 and II; furthermore, a second line deleting Klarchen's speech once again; and finally, a parenthetical mark in the left margin beside that speech (see Figure 2, p. 23): It would seem from this that the Mannheim manuscript did not bear these marks when Borcherdt had it photographed for his edition - or did he use a photograph from a previous source? My inquiry to the director of the Mannheim theatre collection, Liselotte Homering, about this discrepancy was met initially with a surprised "unmoglich!"; but when a comparison of Borcherdt's picture with

28

Images of Goethe through Schiller's Egmont

page 177 of the original manuscript demonstrated that it was not only possible but indeed the case, Frau Homering generously worked out a logical explanation. Pictures of this and other manuscripts had been taken while the collection was in the Mannheim SchloEmuseum from 1926 until 1943, at which time most were lost when the museum went up in flames. Borcherdt's picture must have been taken from the SchloBmuseum photos, the markings he did not see were added to the manuscript after 1926.' Borcherdt's treatment of auxiliary markings on the Mannheim manuscript indicates that he saw glosses relating to performance as relatively unimportant. He does list the deletions on the manuscript separately, but even this list is inadequate, including major deletions only, giving no indication of the conflicting marks of this type within the manuscript, and omitting the many staging annotations entirely. As shown in the footnotes to the text in chapter 2, the pattern of deletions, additions, and staging annotations is much more complicated than can be incorporated into a simple list. What these extratextual annotations tell us about the production and reception of the play in Mannheim at various times is important. Borcherdt describes in some detail the original portion of the Mannheim manuscript h2 (the basic text, exclusive of annotations), noting a number of amplifications on Schiller's stage directions (as recorded in h1), the fact that it alone among the manuscripts reintroduces the songs deleted by Schiller, and some changes of content as well, all of which underscore the "Eigenmachtigkeit der Mannheimer Regie" (328f). He further includes in his list of sources an account of the previous publication of all manuscripts consulted (1-5), and in the case of the Mannheim manuscript h2 claims that it was published in its entirety for the first time by A[rnold] Schloenbach in the Bibliothek der deutschen Klassiker, 10. Bd. Hildburghausen, 1862 - "vermutlich nach einer anderen, inzwischen verlorengegangenen Mannheimer Vorlage" (327) .4 Schloenbach's publication was then supposedly reprinted by Conrad Hofer in Schillers Werken, ed. Otto Giintter and Georg Witkowski (Leipzig: Hesse 1910/11), XII, 327, 334, 361, along with a list of the variants between it and h1. Borcherdt reproduces Hofer's variants for EGMONT. mit dem Fufie stampfend170 Keine Rettung! - Siifses Leben! schone,mit dem Fufie stampfend170 Keine Re- EGMONT. mit dem Fufie stampfend170 Keine Rettung! - Siifses Leben! schone,Siifses Leben! schone, inspecting these printings, Borcherdt writes that, although Hofer claimed Schloenbach's publication to represent an accurate transcription of the manuscript, he himself found ("es wurde festgestellt") 78 variants, admittedly not of great textual importance, but unacknowleged variants nevertheless, and hence troubling to any future reader.6 Moreover, Borcherdt notes that these variants are related to several sources, including the original Weimar manuscript (h1), alterations within the Mannheim manuscript itself (h2), Goethe's original version, and a further seventeen whose sources he cannot trace (334). Somewhat surprisingly, he concludes, "Es muB also angenommen werden, daB Schloenbach eine andere Mannheimer Handschrift vorgelegen hat, zumal er im 'Dresdner Schillerbuch' (1860) berichtet, daB? darin die von Schiller eingefugten Szenen 11,10-11

29 Egmont asText verklebt gewesen seien, wovon sich in h2 keine Spur findet. In der Tat ist nach Walters Katalog der Mannheimer Theaterhandschriften a.a.O. 8.126 eine Egmonthandschrift verlorengegangen. Dieses verlorene Manuskript stand h1 naher, ist also die urspriingliche Fassung der Mannheimer Bearbeitung gewesen, aus der dann h2 abschriftlich als Dirigier- oder Souffleurbuch entstanden ist" (334)7 We can add to this a previous statement by Borcherdt about the relationship between h2 and the other extant manuscripts: "Diese Ubereinstimmungen zeigen deutlich, daB ein verlorenes Dirigierbuch von 1796 anzunehmmen ist, das 1800 nach Berlin und 1804 oder 1806 nach Mannheim, vielleicht aber auch nach Leipzig und anderen Orten, an denen die dreiaktige Fassung gespielt wurde, ausgeliehen wurde. Nur die Mannheimer Handschrift ist davon erhalten geblieben" (329). This manuscript is thus crucial for the early history of performances of the play. Borcherdt makes a further statement about h3, the Weimar manuscript by scribe John, claiming that it takes account of the "Schillerschen Bearbeitung von 1796 mit all den Zusatzen, die sich auch aus der Mannheimer Handschrift im verlorenen Weimarer Dirigierbuch erschlieBen lassen" (331). This is a strange claim indeed, for it seems to assume not just that h3 is based on the Schiller version of 1796 and the Mannheim manuscript, but that the lost Weimar director's manuscript took account of the Mannheim manuscript as well, the exact nature of which is itself in doubt. This claim Borcherdt does not and cannot prove. If he is right, then the Mannheim manuscript clearly had a direct influence on how Egmont Was performed and understood in Weimar (and in posterity for the most part), and it thus gains greatly in importance. If he is wrong, then the record needs to be set straight, for the Mannheim manuscript represents a different strand in Goethe/Schiller reception and understanding.8 In fairness, Borcherdt himself alerts us to some weaknesses in his reconstruction of the chronology and interdependence of these sources (327), particularly the date of its production: "Auch das Entstehungsjahr von h2 ist keineswegs absolut gesichert. Seit Schloenbach wird immer wieder angenommen, daB die Handschrift fur eine am 26.20.1804 erfolgte Auffuhrung in Mannheim bestimmt gewesen sei. Nach Walter II S. 126 hat aber diese Auffuhrung erst 1806 stattgefunden. Es muB also mit der Moglichkeit gerechnet werden, daB die Handschrift erst nach Schillers Tode hergestellt wurde" (327). This is indeed the case in Walter; moreover, the manuscript's title page bears (in a later hand) the notation "Premiere 26.12.1806. "9 I have also examined Hofer's reprint of Schloenbach in Schiller's Sdmtliche Werke (Leipzig: Hesse, [1910]), xII, 7-98. It includes a good introduction, describing the genesis of Schiller's adaptation and its early performance history. Most of this information is taken over and embellished by Borcherdt in his commentary. The variants between the Mannheim manuscript and h1, as well as Goethe's original, are displayed by Hofer concurrently throughout by the use of various type faces (as Borcherdt himself, and later Gopfert did), and he

3O

Images of Goethe through Schiller's Egmont

surveys the main ones in his introduction (14-16), referring us to Koster's Schiller als Dramaturg (Berlin, 1891) for a fuller account. Hofer provides evidence that the manuscript he prints was the one used for the first performance in Mannheim in 1804 (16), yet we know that this date itself must be called into question, and hence also his claim here. In his discussion of the various manuscripts in use around 1800, Hofer makes no mention of the fact that there were two Mannheim manuscripts, not just one. Also troubling is the noticeable difference between the order of the dramatic personae in his reprint and that in the Mannheim manuscript, to which he himself draws attention, explaining both this and other differences with: "Wir glaubten also der urspriinglichen Absicht des Dichters naher zu kommen, wenn wir die fraglichen Partien, die der Mannheimer Handschrift fehlen, aus dem Weimarischen Manuskript einfiigen wiirden" (20). In fairness, these appear in a different typeface, but the statement, combined with Borcherdt's discovery of many unacknowledged differences and Hofer's failure to mention the second, lost Mannheim manuscript, leave doubts about the reliability of his work. He also makes only fleeting reference to the deletions in the manuscript and none at all to textual emendations entered later. Sigrid SiedhofPs Der Dramaturg Schiller (1982) also makes no reference to the fact that there were two Mannheim manuscripts stemming from the first six years of the nineteenth century, not just one (27-8, 241-2). Friedrich Walter's description of the Mannheim manuscript, certainly the definitive source for materials from the Mannheim theatre archive, is preceded by this statement: "Ein zweites Mskr. M663 fehlt." He makes no comment on its nature, chronology, or relationship to the extant one h2. This information is not sufficient to allow Borcherdt's conclusion that the lost manuscript "die urspriingliche Fassung der Mannheimer Bearbeitung gewesen ist, aus der dann h1 abschriftlich als Dirigier- oder Souffleurbuch entstanden ist." Its call number M663 alone suggests that it was a later product than the one we have, M372. Moreover, Walter makes no mention whatsoever of any extratextual markings, not even that they exist. It is extremely unlikely that none of them was there when he published his catalogue (1899), and hence their omission is a sign that he held such hints about performance to be unimportant, as apparently did Borcherdt. Strictly speaking, the lost Mannheim manuscript M663 should be designated as hlb, the extant one M372 hla. When it comes to the actual text of the play, there are thousands of small differences between the Mannheim manuscript M372 (h2) and Schiller's adaptation as published by Borcherdt from h1, in orthography, punctuation, word selection, word order, text, and the order of scenes. Borcherdt includes these among his full account of variants (335-347), but restricts himself to the dramatic text itself, ignoring dozens of extratextual markings. Here is a sampling from the first scene only (I have used the abbreviations S for Schiller with page reference to Borcherdt's printing, M for the manuscript beside its pagination).

31 Egmont as Text Act I, Scene i s: 3,13 ... undspannt die Armbrust M : 5 ... im Begriff, die Armbrust zu nehmen s: 3, 19 dafiir auch M : 6 auch dafiir s: 3, 23 so schon lange hier M: 6 schon so lange hier S: 5,16—17. M : 16 s: 5, 44—6, I das Pfotchen reichen und Friede machen M : 19 Friede machen s: 6, 7 Margareten M : 19 Margaretha von Parma s: 6, II Die Regentin lebe! M: 20 Sie lebe! Die Regentin lebe! s: 7, 30-33 Den nicht zu vergessen! Das ist ein rechter Wall: wenn man nur an ihn denkt, meint man gleich, man konne sich hinter ihn verstecken, und der Teufel brachte einen nicht hervor. Hoch! Wilhelm von Oranien, hoch! M: 26 Den nicht zu vergessen! Hoch! Wilhelm von Oranien, hoch! s: 8, 30 Ordnung und Freiheit! M: 31-2. Ordnung und Gewissens-Freyheit! For the most part, such differences are insignificant. Among them, however, are meaningful changes. The change from the stage direction "und spannt die Armbrusf (S: 3, 13) to " im Begriff, die Armbrust zu nehmen' (M: 5) shows that the manuscript copyist made changes to his primary source. The lengthy omission from S: 7, 30-33 suggests either a copyists error or a deliberate omission, in either case with the result that the content of the manuscript is changed significantly from Schiller. Finally, the change to S: 8, 30 is a deliberate and significant scribal variant. Borcherdt's work on Egmont in the Nationalausga.be was integrated by Gerhard Fricke and Herbert G. Gopfert into the third volume of the 1959 Hanser Ausgabe of Schiller's Sdmtliche Werke and reprinted by Gopfert in Friedrich Schiller. Biihnenbearbeitungen (Miinchen: dtv, 1966). Gopfert was cognizant of

32 Images of Goethe through Schiller's Egmont the fallibility of his enterprise, making appropriate reference to the uncertainties surrounding the various manuscripts, but his simplification distorts our view of the records. For example, in the dtv edition he cites a mere handful of lexical differences between the Mannheim manuscript and h1, specifically, that "das Wort Treiheit' haufig in 'Geistesfreiheit' umgeandert wurde, wo Klarchen nicht fur Egmonts Freiheit, sondern fur seine 'Befreiung' kampft und auch Egmont selbst nicht fur die Freiheit, sondern fur das 'Vaterland' stirbt" (239). Contrary to Gopfert, the word "Geistesfreiheit" (or its orthographic variants "Geistesfreyheit" and "Geistesfreyheit") occurs not once in the Mannheim manuscript M372. Furthermore, M372 contains the word "Befreiung" (or its orthographic variants "Befreyung" and "Befreyung") only once, spoken by Klarchen to Soest, Jetter, and Zimmermann in the final act with reference to the captured Egmont, as she tries to rally their support (see below at the top of [232]); in Goethe and Schiller Klarchen does indeed say "Freyheit." The word "Vaterland" occurs seven times in the manuscript, five times in the early conversation between Klarchen and Brackenburg (see ms. [141 top, 141 bottom, 146]) and twice in Egmonts final soliloquy ([295, 297]). Five of the seven instances were the same in Goedie and Schiller. On [146] Brackenburg's "Brutus' Rede fur die Freiheit" (Goethe and Schiller versions) has been changed in the manuscript to "fur das Vaterland!" and on [297] Egmont makes the change once, from "Furs Vaterland starb ich" instead of "Fur die Freiheit". Further textual differences between the Mannheim manuscript and h1, as recorded by Borcherdt, are much more extensive than Gopfert's mention would lead the reader to suspect; moreover, he completely ignores the extratextual markings. At no point does Gopfert identiiy the Mannheim manuscript clearly in bibliographical terms, and the record of visiting scholars in the correspondence of the theatre archive there shows no sign of his presence. Gopfert's treatment of the Mannheim manuscript leaves much to be desired. Because of the uncertainties surrounding the Mannheim manuscript and scholars' general disregard for the extratextual annotations it contains, the following chapter is a fresh transcription based on the manuscript as it exists today in the theatre collection of the Mannheim ReiB-Museum. It is not intended as a work of comparative editing, for this has been done well by Borcherdt as far as the original scribal text is concerned. Rather, it reviews the accuracy of his work and in addition takes into account all intra- and extratextual markings not attributable to the original scribe. The Mannheim manuscript is presented therefore as a new primary text - more accurately, a new performance text - unique in the history of Egmont reception. In my analysis of Borcherdt, it was not my intention to denigrate his great scholarly contribution. But times have changed. What was important in scholarly editing in 1949 is not necessarily as important in 1998, when less attention is paid to the content of the text and much more to its impact. At the same time, the danger exists in modern sociohistorical literary analysis that we move too far from

33

Egmontas Text

the text, so that there is no longer a standard by which to measure change. Literary studies today have moved into new extratextual spheres, particularly into media studies, radio, television and film. The long-standing question of what literature is, has become much more difficult, even impossible to answer. My study attempts to come to grips with these new areas as they relate to Egmont, but for this reason too, the anchoring of my study in a text, a fixed system of semiotic signs on the page, is crucial, for the text remains a permanent point of reference for understanding the multiplicity of variants produced through performance on stage and screen. Schiller undertook his adaptation because Goethe's original was a failure on stage, and to a great extent this was the result of structural, staging, and production problems; hence, these were a primary focus for his adaptation. The history of the performance and reception of Egmont in the following years was determined much more by those questions of structure, staging, and production, than by questions of text and themes. The Mannheim manuscript shows not just a text in flux, but a staging and performance history in flux as well. It thus brings the two crucial elements of dramatic history to our attention.

34 Images of Goethe through Schiller's Egmont THE MANNHEIM MANUSCRIPT STADTISCHES REIfi-MUSEUM

M A N N H E I M , CALL

N U M B E R M 372

The manuscript consists of 150 trimmed leaves of good quality, hand-made paper, folded once and stitched loosely at the spine in gatherings to produce one blank and then 299 pages of written text. Pages measure 21 cm high and 17 cm wide and from page 5 on are paginated alternately in the upper right and left corner. (Pages 206-7 are erroneously paginated as 106-7 and l 222 as 223.) The text area measures approximately 18 cm by 15 cm on each page, with margins on all four sides of 2—3 cm. (Borcherdt identifies the format "in Quart" [327], and while its page size is in conformity with quarto, the single fold makes it technically a folio volume produced from half sheets.) Clearly written, the manuscript is obviously the product of a scribe, quite possibly J.D. Trinkle who served as prompter and copyist in Mannheim at the time. The many marks indicating deletions and rearrangements of the text, and the additions to the text and marginal annotations are in various hands and colours, from red or brown crayon to pencil of varying shades. It appears that the coloured annotations are the oldest, and the pencil annotations more recent. I am grateful to the theatre collection of the ReiR-Museum Mannheim and its Director, Liselotte Homering, for permission to publish it here in its entirety. EDITORIAL PRINCIPLES

Titles, the names of the characters, and the stage directions, are all underlined in the manuscript. They appear here in italics, except for the names of the speaking characters, which are set in small caps. Parentheses around the stage directions in the manuscript have been omitted. Minor corrections in punctuation, capitalization, and orthography have been made without comment. The pagination of the original manuscript is indicated by arabic numerals in square brackets throughout. Later handwritten additions to the text of the play appear in the text itself in wavy brackets {...}, and illegible passages indicated, as far as possible, by one dot for each missing letter. Most of the additions stem from Goethe's text, but had been deleted by Schiller in his version; my footnotes draw attention to this whenever the addition bears some significance. Pointed brackets indicate editorial interpolations or conjectures. The footnotes contain references to the many deletions made in the text by hands later than that of the original scribe, and all extratextual handwritten notations on the manuscript, including the reordering of acts and scenes and instructions for performance and staging. The word "deleted" in the footnotes refers to the word in the text immediately preceding that footnote number, unless otherwise specified. It is common throughout the manuscript that marginal notations indicating the deletion of passages stand beside and in conflict with others indicating that

35

EgmontasTexi.

the passage should remain ("bleibt"). In many instances, even this notation "bleibt" is itself struck out, and occasionally the word "weg" appears in the margin to indicate a deletion. Such contradictory notations reflect the work of more than one correcting hand and time period. While it is clear from the notations themselves, from the handwriting and the crayon or pencil colour and breadth, that they stem from more than one hand or period, it is impossible to clarify consistently which notations belong together, in odier words, to determine exactly what text was or was not performed at a specific time. This serves to support one of the primary starting points of the present study, namely, that there is in the end no such thing as a fixed text for dramatic works. In the following, because of the great frequency of such mutually contradictory marginal notations on the manuscript, a superior b, indicating "bleibt," appears beside the word deleted to indicate this contradiction; and bd (bleibt and deleted) indicates that the text has been struck out, "bleibt" later added, then this in turn also deleted. There are also many instances in the manuscript in which shorter emendations or deletions occur within longer ones; in most cases it is impossible to be certain of their chronological order, but such cases are all recorded in the notes. Here is a list and an explanation of abbreviations used in the editorial notes of the following chapter. Further discussion of them can be found in chapter 3. de: either the common editorial abbreviation for deleatur or the second half of "vide" (see "vi=" below). Verwandoi Verwandlung: a change in scene. verwendoi verw: the speech indicated was probably to be moved elsewhere. vi=: the first half of "vide," to be linked with ."=de" at a later point, the text between being evidently omitted. Variations include combinations such as =, =#, and -page #. Zugloi Zugleich, usually in pairs, and presumably indicating two actions occurring concurrently. Zusatzor Zstz: the optional use of a speech or scene.

2 Egmont Ein Trauerspiel in drey Aufziigen

Figure 3 Egmont, Stadtisches Reifi-Museum Mannheim, Mannheim Manuscript M3/2, title page.

37

Egmont. Ein Trauerspielin drey Aufougen

[I] EGMONT EIN T R A U E R S P I E L IN

[2] blank

[3] Personer? Graf Egmont, Prinz von Gaure. Wilhelm von Oranien. Herzog von Alba. Ferdinand, sein natiirlicher Sohn. Richard, Egmonts Geheimschreiber.

silva.

unter Alba dienend. Gomez. J Clarchen, Egmonts Geliebte. Ihre Mutter. Brackenburg, ein Biirgersohn. Soest, Kramer.

Jetter, Schn

Zimmermann. BUrger von BriisseL

Seifensieder. Buyk, Soldat unter Egmont. Ruysum, Invalide und taub. Vansen, ein Schreiber. Volck. Gefolge. Wachen. [4] blank

DREY A U F Z U G E N 1

38

Images of Goethe through Schiller's Egmont

[5] Actus I. Freyer Platz vor der Stadt. Vorn eine Art von Tribune, mit Armbriisten, von der ubers Theater weg in die Coulissen geschossen wird. Scene I. Soest. fetter. Ruysum. vorne auf der Btihne. Mehrere Soldaten. Burger und Biirgerweiber, im Hintergrunde theils sitzend an Schenktischen, theils aufund abgehend undsich unterredend. fetter, auf den Stufen, im BegriffdieArmbrustzu

nehmen.

[6] SOEST. Nun schieBt nur hin, daB? es alle wird! Ihr nehmt mir's doch nicht! Drey Ringe schwarz, die habt Ihr eure Tage nicht geschossen, und so war' ich fur dieses Jahr Meister. JETTER. Meister und Konig dazu. Wer miBgonnts Euch? Ihr sollt' dafur die Zeche doppelt bezahlen; Ihr sollt eure Geschicklichkeit bezahlen. Wie's recht ist. BUYK. herzutretend Jetter, den SchuB hand' ich Euch ab, teile den Gewinnst, traktiere die Herren: ich bin schon so lange hier [7] und fur viele Hoflichkeit Schuldner -. Fehle ich, so ist's, als wenn Ihr geschossen hattet. Jetter tritt herunter, Buyk hinauf. SOEST. Ich sollte drein reden: denn eigentlich verliere ich dabey. Doch, Buyk, nur immerhin. BUYK. schiefit. Nun, Pritschmeister, Reverenz! - Eins! Zwey! Drey! Viere! Die im Hintergrund befindlichen Soldaten und Burger sind aufgestanden und sehen unverwandt in die Coulissen nach dem Ziel. [8] SOEST. Vier Ringe? Es sey! {Vivat!}3 {Alle} Alle.4 {Soest. nicht vor} applaudiren Vivat, Herrr Konig, hoch! und abermahl hoch! {Alle Vivat...}5 BUYK. Danke, ihr Herren. Ware Meister zu viel! Danke fiir die Ehre. JETTER. Die habt Ihr Euch selbst zu danken. RUYSUM. ganz vorn am Theater: daB ich Euch sage! - herzutretend6 SOEST. laut: Wie ist's Alter? [9] RUYSUM. DaB ich Euch sage! — Er schieBt wie sein Herr, er schieBt wie Egmont. BUYK. Gegen ihn bin ich nun ein armer Schlucker. Mit der Biichse trifft er erst wie keiner in der Welt. Nicht etwa wenn er Gliick oder gute Laune hat, nein! wie er anlegt, immer rein schwarz geschossen. Gelernt habe ich von ihm. Das

39

Egmont. Ein Trauerspiel in drey Aufziigen

ware auch ein Kerl, der bey ihm diente, und nichts von ihm lernte. - Nicht zu vergessen, meine Herren! — Ein Konig nahrt seine Leute, und so auf des Konigs Rechnung Wein [10] her! {Alle gehn zu den Tischen} SOEST. Es ist unter uns ausgemacht, daB jeder BUYK. Ich bin fremd und Konig und achte eure Gesetze und Herkommen nicht. JETTER. Du bist ja arger als der Spanier; der hat sie uns doch bisher lassen miiBen. RUYSUM. Was?7 SOEST. laut Er will uns gastiren; er will nicht haben, daB wir zusammenlegen und der Konig nur das Doppelte bezahlt. [II] RUYSUM. LaBt ihn! doch ohne Prajuditz! das ist auch seines Herrn Art, splendid zu seyn, und es laufen zu lassen, wo es gedeiht. Einige Burger und Burgerweiber mit Wein {Alle} ALLE. 8 [Soest.. .9} Ihre Majestat Wohl!10 Hoch! JETTER. {Heil!11} zu Buyk: Versteht sich, Eure12 Majestat. BUYK. Danke von Herzen, wenns doch so seyn soil. SOEST. Wohl! denn unserer Spanischen Majestat [12] Gesundheit trinkt nicht leicht ein Niederlander von Herzen. RUYSUM. Wer? SOEST. laut: Philipps des Zweyten, Konigs in Spanien. RUYSUM. Unser allergnadigster Konig und Herr! Gott gebe ihm langes Leben! SOEST. Hattet Ihr seinen Herrn Vater, Karl den Funften nicht lieber? RUYSUM. Gott trost ihn! Das war ein Herr! Er [13] hatte die Hand iiber den ganzen Erdboden, und war Euch alles in allem, und wenn er Euch begegnete, so griiBte er Euch, wie ein Nachbar den anderen; und wann Ihr erschrocken war't, wuBte er mit so guter Manier — Ja versteht mich — Er gieng aus, ritt aus, wie's ihm einkam, gar mit wenig Leuten. Haben wir doch alle geweint; wie er seinem Sohn das Regiment hier abtrat - sagt' ich, versteht mich - der ist schon anders, der ist majestatischer. JETTER. Er lieB sich nicht sehen, da er hier war, [14] als in Prunk und Koniglichem Staate. Er spricht wenig, sagen die Leute. SOEST. Es ist kein Herr fur uns Niederlander. Unsre Fiirsten miissen froh und frey seyn, wie wir, leben und leben lassen. Wir wollen nicht verachtet, noch gedruckt seyn, so gutherzige Narren wir auch sind. JETTER. Der Konig, denk' ich, ware wohl ein gnadiger Herr, wenn er nur bessere Rathgeber hatte. [15] SOEST. Nein, nein! Er hat kein Gemiith gegen uns Niederlander, er liebt uns nicht; wie konnen wir ihn wieder lieben? Warum ist alle Welt dem Grafen Egmont so hold? Warum triigen wir ihn alle auf den Handen? Weil man ihm ansieht, daB er uns wohl will; weil ihm die Frohlichkeit {das freie Leben}, die

40

Images of Goethe through Schiller's Egmont

gute Meynung aus den Augen sieht; weil er nichts besitzt, dafi er den Diirftigen nicht mittheilte, auch dem, der's nicht bedarf. Lafit den Grafen Egmont leben! Buyk, an Euch ist's, die erste Gesundheit zu bringen! [16] Bringt Eures Herrn Gesundheit aus. BUYK. Von ganzem Seele denn: Graf Egmont hoch!13 {hoch!} Dem Helden von Gravelingen! ALLE. Hoch! BUYK. Gravelingen! Freunde! da gieng's frisch! Den Sieg haben wir allein. Brannten und sengten die walschen Hunde nicht durch ganz Flandern? Aber ich meyne, wir trafen sie! Ihre alten handfesten Kerle hielten lange wieder, und wir drangten und schossen und hieben, da sie die Mauler verzerrten und ihre [17] Linien zuckten. Da ward Egmont das Pferdt unter dem Leibe niedergeschossen, und wir stritten lange hiniiber, heriiber, Mann fur Mann, Pferdt gegen Pferdt, auf dem breiten flachen Sand an der See hin. Auf einmal kam's wie vom Himmel herunter, von der Mundung des Flufies, bav! Bau! immer mit Kanonen in die Franzosen drein. Es waren Englander, die von Diinkirchen her vorbeyfuhren. Zwar viel halfen sie uns nicht; sie konnten nur mit den kleinsten Schiffen herbey, und das nicht nahe genug; sie schossen auch [18] wohl unter uns - Es that doch gut! es brach die Walschen und hob unsern Muth. Da gings! Rick! Rack! heruber, hinuber! Alles todtgeschlagen, alles ins Wasser gesprengt. Und die Kerle ersoffen wie sie das Wasser schmeckten; und was wir Hollander waren, grad hinter drein. Uns, die wir beyd-lebig sind, ward erst wohl im Wasser, wie den Froschen; und immer die Feinde im Flufi zusammen gehauen, weggeschossen wie die Enten. Was nun noch durchbrach, schlugen Euch auf der Flucht die Bauerweiber mit Hacken und Mistgabeln todt. Mufite doch die wulsche Ma-[i9]jestat gleich Friede machen. Und den Frieden seyd Ihr uns schuldig, dem grofien Egmont schuldig. ALLE.14 {Buyk.} Hoch!15 dem grofien Egmont hoch! und abermal hoch! und abermal hoch!16 JETTER. \Alle. hoch! und abermals hoch. Hoch und nochmals hoch, hoch} Hatte man uns den statt der Margaretha von Parma zum Regenten gesetzt! SOEST. {Es wird Wein gebracht.} Nicht so! Wahr bleibt wahr! Ich lasse mir Margaretha von Parma nicht schelten. Nun ist's an mir. Es lebe unsre gnadige Frau! laut, dafies auch die im Hintergrunde horen sollen. Diese [20] stoflen mit an. ALLE.17 {Soest.} Die Regentin lebe! JETTER. {Alle: hoch!} Klug ist sie, und mafiig in allem, was sie thut; hielte sie's nur nicht so steif .und fest mit den Pfaffen. Sie ist doch auch mit Schuld, dafi wir die vierzehn neue Bischofsmutzen im Lande haben. Wozu die nur sollen? Nicht wahr, dafi man Fremde in die gute Stellen einschieben kann? und wir sollen glauben, es sey um der Religion willen. Ja es hat sich! An drey Bischofen hatten wir genug: da giengs ehrlich und ordent[2i]lich zu. Nun mufi doch auch jeder thun als ob er notig ware; und da setzt' s alle Augenblick VerdruB und Handel. Sie trinken. SOEST. Das war nun des Konigs Wille, sie kann nichts davon, noch dazu thun.

41 Egmont. Ein Trauersfiel in drey Aufaugen

JETTER. Da sollen wir nun die neuen Psalmen nicht singen. Die sind wahrlich gar schon in Reimen gesetzt, und haben recht erbauliche Weisen. Die sollen wir nicht singen; aber Schelmenlieder, so viel wir wollen. Und warum? [22] Es seyen Ketzereyen drin, sagen sie, und Sachen, Gott weiE. Ich habe Ihrer doch auch gesungen; es ist jetzt was neues,18 ich hab nichts drin gesehen. BUYK. Ich wollte sie fragen! In unsrer Provinz singen wir, was wir wollen. Das macht, dafi Graf Egmont unser Statthalter ist, der fragt nach so etwas nicht. laut Es ist ja wohl nichts unschuldiger, als ein geisdich Lied? Nicht wahr, Vater?'9 RUYSUM. Ey20 {Ja} wohl! Es ist ja ein Gottes-Dienst, eine Erbauung. [23] JETTER. Sie sagen aber, es sey nicht auf die rechte Art, nicht auf ihre Art; und gefahrlich ist's doch immer, da lafit man's lieber seyn. Die InquisitionsDiener schleichen herum und passen auf; mancher ehrliche Mann ist schon ungliicklich gewesen. SOEST. Die Inquisition kommt nicht auf. Wir sind nicht gemacht, wie die Spanier, unser Gewissen tyrannisiren zu lassen. JETTER. Es ist sehr fatal. Wenn's den lieben [24] Leuten einfallt, in mein Haus zu stiirmen, und ich sitz' an meiner Arbeit, und summe just einen franzosischen Psalm, und denke nichts dabey, weder gutes noch boses; ich summe ihn aber, weil er mir in der Kehle ist; gleich bin ich ein Ketzer, und werde eingesteckt. Wenn ich gehe iiber Land, und bleibe bey einem Haufen Vblcks stehen, das einem neuen Prediger zuhort, einem von denen, die aus Deutschland gekommen sind; auf der Stelle heifi' ich ein Rebell, und komme in Gefahr, meinen Kopf zu verlieren. Habt Ihr je einen [25] predigen horen? SOEST. Wackre Leute. Neulich hort ich einen auf dem Felde vor tausend und tausend Menschen sprechen. Das war ein ander Gekoch, als wann unsre auf der Kanzel herumtrommeln, und die Leute mit lateinischen Brocken erwiirgen. Der sprach von der Leber weg; sagte, wie sie uns bis her hatten bey der Nase herum gefuhrt, uns in der Dummheit erhalten, und wie wir mehr Erleuchtung haben konnten. - Und das bewiefi er Euch alles aus der [26] Bibel. BUYK. Frisch, ihr Herren! iiber dem Schwatzen vergefit ihr den Wein und Oranien. JETTER. Den nicht zu vergessen. Hoch! Wilhelm von Oranien, hoch! ALLE. Hoch! hoch! SOEST. Nun, Alter, bring auch deine Gesundheit. RUYSUM. Alte Soldaten! Alle Soldaten! Es lebe der Krieg! [27] BUYK. Bravo, Alter! Alle Soldaten! Es lebe der Krieg! Die Soldaten aus dem Hintergrunde kommen hervor, und stolen mit an. JETTER." Krieg! Krieg! Wifit ihr auch, was Ihr ruft? Dafi es euch leicht vom Munde geht, ist wohl natiirlich; wie lumpig aber unser einem dabey zu Muthe ist, kann ich nicht sagen. Das ganze Jahr das Getrommel zu horen; und nichts zu horen, als wie da ein Haufen gezogen kommt, und da ein anderer, wie sie

41

Images of Goethe through Schiller's Egmont

iiber einen Hiigel kamen, und [28] bey einer Miihle hielten, wie viel da geblieben sind, wie viel dort, und wie sie sich drangen, und einer gewinnt, der andere verliert, ohne dafi man sein' Tage begreift, wer was gewinnt oder verliert. Wie eine Stadt eingenommen wird, die Burger ermordet werden, und wie's den armen Weibern, und unschuldigen Kindern ergeht. Das ist eine Noth und Angst, man denkt jeden Augenblick: "Da kommen sie! es geht uns auch so." SOEST. Drum mufi auch ein Burger immer [29] in Waffen geubt seyn. JETTER. Ja es ubt sich, wer Frau und Kinder hat. Und dochhor"22ich noch lieber von Soldaten, als ich sie sehe. BUYK. Das sollt ich ubel nehmen. JETTER. Auf euch ist's nicht gesagt, Landsmann. Wie wir die spanischen Besatzungen los waren, hohlten wir wieder Athem. SOEST. Gelt! Die lagen dir am schwersten auf? JETTER. Vexier' er sich!23 [30] SOEST. Die hatten scharfe Einquartierung bey dir. JETTER. Halt dein Maul! SOEST. Sie hatten ihn vertrieben aus der Kuche, dem Keller, der Stube - dem {Bette} Sie lachen. JETTER. Du bist ein Tropf! BUYK. Friede ihr Herren! Mufi der Soldat Friede rufen? - Nun da ihr von uns nichts horen wollt, nun bringt auch [31] Eure Gesundheit aus, eine burgerliche Gesundheit. JETTER. Dazu sind wir bereit! - Sicherheit und Ruhe! SOEST. Ordnung und frey Gewissen! BUYK. Brav! Das sind auch wir zufrieden. Sie stoften an und wiederhohlen frohlich die Worte, doch so, daftjeder ein anderes ausntft, und es eine Art Kanon wird. DerAlte horcht undfallt endlich auch mit ein. ALLE.24 {Soest.} Sicherheit und Ruhe! Ordnung und [32] Gewissens-Freyheit!25 {frei Gewissen! Alle. rezetiren] Scene 2.26 Zimmermeister. Vorige ZIMMERMEISTER. Sagt ich's nicht voraus? Noch vor acht Tagen auf der Zunft sagt ich, es wurde schwere Handel geben.27 JETTER. einfallend Was giebts denn?

SOEST. Zugleich Was bring ihr?

SOEST.Buyk. zugleich Erzahlt Meister Zimmermann. ZIMMERMEISTER. Wie? Wifit Ihr noch nicht — die Un-[33]sinnigen! — Dafi sie in Flandern sich zusammen rottirt, dafi sie die katholischen Kirchen gepliindert

43

Egmont. Ein Trauenpiel in drey Aufzugen

haben - Die Soldaten, Burger und Weiber kommen vor und sammeln sich um den Zimmermeister. SOEST. Wer? die Aufruhrer? JETTER. Die von der neuen Lehre? ZIMMERMEISTER. Ganz und gar zu Grunde gerichtet haben sie Kirchen und Kapellen. Nichts als die vier nackten Wande haben sie stehen lassen. Lauter Lumpengesindel. Und das macht unsre gute [34] Sache schlimm. Wir hatten eher, in der Ordnung und standhaft unsre Gerechtsame der Regentin vortragen und darauf halten sollen. Reden wir jetzt, versammeln wir uns jetzt; so heifit es, wir gesellen uns zu den Aufwieglern. Scene 3. Seifensieder.

Vorige.

SEIFENSIEDER. Garstige Handel! uble Handel! Es wird unruhig und geht schief aus! - Hutet Euch, dafi Ihr stille bleibt, dafi man Euch nicht auch fur Aufwiegler halt. SOEST. ihn aushohnend Da kommen die [35] sieben Weisen aus Griechenland. SEIFENSIEDER. Ich weifi, da sind viele, die es heimlich mit den Kalvinisten halten, die auf die Bischofe lastern, die den Konig nicht scheuen. Aber ein treuer Unterthan, ein aufrichtiger Katholik! Scene 4. Vansen. Vorige. VANSEN. Gott grufi Euch Herren! Was neues? ZIMMERMEISTER. Vorne zu den nachststehenden Gebt Euch mit dem nicht ab, das ist ein schlechter Kerl. [36] JETTER. Ist es nicht der Schreiber beym Docktor Wiets? ZIMMERMEISTER. Er hat schon viele Herrn gehabt. Erst war er Schreiber, und wie ihn ein Patron nach dem andern fortjagte, Schelmstreiche halber, pfuscht er jetzt Notaren und Advokaten ins Handwerk, und ist ein Brandweinzapf. Burger, Burgerweiber und Soldaten stehen truppeneise. VANSEN. vorwarts kommend Ihr seyd auch versammelt, steckt die Kopfe zusammen. [37] Es ist immer redenswerth. SOEST. Ich denk auch. VANSEN. Wenn jetzt einer oder der andere Herz hatte, und einer oder der andere den Kopf dazu, wir konnten die spanischen Ketten auf einmal sprengen.

44

Images of Goethe through Schiller's Egmont

SOEST. Herr! So mufit Ihr nicht reden. Wir haben dem Konige geschworen. VANSEN. Und der Konig uns. Merkt das. JETTER. Das lafit sich horen! Sagt Eure Mey-[38]nung. Iter et2ter BURGER. Horch! der versteht's! der hat Pfiffe. VANSEN. Ich hatte einen alten Patron, der besafi Pergamente und Briefe von uralten Stiftungen, Kontrakten und Gerechtigkeiten; er hielt auf die rarsten Bucher. In einem stand unsre ganze Verfassung: wie uns Niederlander zuerst einzelne Fursten regierten, alles nach hergebrachten Rechten, Privilegien und Gewohnheiten; wie unsre Vorfahren alle Ehrfurcht fur ihren Fursten gehabt, [39] wenn er sie regiert, wie er sollte, und wie sie sich gleich vorsahen, wenn er uber die Schnur hauen wollte. Die Staaten waren gleich hinterdrein: denn jede Provinz, so klein sie war, hatte ihre Staaten, ihre Landstande. ZIMMERMEISTER. Haltet euer Maul! Das weifi man lange! ein jeder rechtschaffene Burger ist, so viel er braucht, von der Verfassung unterrichtet. JETTER. Lafit ihn reden; man erfahrt immer etwas mehr. [40] SOEST. Er hat ganz Recht. Iter , 2ter et 3ter BURGER. Erzahlt! erzahlt! So etwas hort man nicht alle Tage.28 VANSEN. So seyd ihr Burgersleute! Ihr lebt nur so in den Tag hin; und wie ihr euer Gewerb' von euren Eltern uberkommen habt, so lafit Ihr auch das Regiment uber Euch schalten, und walten, wie es kann und mag.29 Ihr fragt nicht nach dem Herkommen, nach der Historie, nach dem Recht [41] eines Regenten; und uber das Versaumnifi haben Euch die Spanier das Netz uber die Ohren gezogen. SOEST. Wer denkt daran? Wenn einer nur das tagliche Brod hat. JETTER. Verflucht! Warum tritt auch keiner in Zeiten auf und sagt einem so etwas? VANSEN. Ich sag' es Euch jetzt. Der Konig in Spanien, der die Provinzen durch gut Gluck zusammen besitzt, darf doch nicht drin schalten und waIten, anders [42] als die kleinen Fursten, die sie ehemals einzeln besafien. Begreift ihr das? JETTER. Erklart's uns. VANSEN. Es ist so klar als die Sonne. Mufit Ihr nicht nach euern Landrechten gerichtet werden? Woher kame das? IterBURGER. Wahrlich!30 VANSEN. Hat der Brufier nicht ein ander Recht, als der Antwerpner? Der Antwerpner als der Gentner? Woher kame [43] denn das? 3ter BURGER. BeyGott!31 VANSEN. Aber wenn Ihr's so fortlaufen lafit, wird man's Euch bald anders weisen. Pfuy! Was Karl der Kuhne, Karl der Funfte nicht konnten, das thut nun Philipp durch ein Weib. SOEST. Ja, ja! Die alten Fursten haben's auch schon probirt. VANSEN. Freylich! - Unsre Vorfahren pafiten auf. Unsre Vater waren Leute! Die [44] wufiten, was ihnen nutz war! Die wufiten etwas zu fassen und fest zu

45

Egmont. Ein Trauerspiel in drey Aujzugen

setzen! Rechte Manner! Dafur sind aber auch unsere Privilegien so deutlich, unsere Freyheiten so versichert. SEIFENSIEDER. Was sprecht Ihr von Privilegien? JETTER. Von unsern Freyheiten, von unsern Privilegien! Erzahlt noch was von unseren Privilegien. ALLE. aufier dem Zimmenneister und Seifensieder: Erzahlt von unsern [45] Privilegien!32 VANSEN. Wir Brabanter besonders, obgleich alle Provinzen ihre Vorteile haben, wir sind am herrlichsten versehen. Ich habe alles gelesen. SOEST. Sagt an. zugleich JETTER. Lafit horen. Iter BURGER. Ich bitt' Euch.33 VANSEN. Ersdich steht geschrieben der Herzog von Brabant soIl uns ein guter und getreuer Herr seyn. [46] SOEST. Gut! steht das so? zugleich JETTER. Getreu! ist das wahr? VANSEN. Wie ich Euch sage. Er ist uns verpflichtet, wie wir ihm: er soIl keine Macht oder eignen Willen an uns beweisen, merken lassen, oder gedenken zu gestatten, auf keinerley Weise. JETTER. Schon! schon! nicht beweisen. Iter BURGER. Nicht merken lassen.34 SOEST. Und nicht gedenken zu gestatten! Das [47] ist der Hauptpunkt. Niemanden gestatten, auf keinerley Weise. VANSEN. Mit ausdrucklichen Worten. JETTER. Schafft uns das Buch. zugleich Iter BURGER. Ja wir mussen's haben.35 2ter et 3ter BURGER zugleich.36 {Alle} Das Buch! das Buch! Iter BURGER. Wir wollen zu der Regentin gehen mit dem Buche. 2ter BURGER. Ihr sollt das Wort fuhren Herr Doktor.37 [48] SEIFENSIEDER. O die Tropfe! DIE WEIBER. Noch etwas aus dem Buche!38 SEIFENSIEDER. Ich schlage ihm die Zahne in den Hals, wenn er noch ein Wort spricht. Iter et 2ter BURGER .39 {Soest.} zugleich Wir wollen sehen, wer ihm was thut. 3ter BURGER. Sagt uns, was von den Privilegien!40 zugleic IterBURGER.41 {Jetter.} Haben wir noch mehr Privilegien? [49] VANSEN. Mancherley und sehr gute, sehr heilsame. Da steht auch: der Landsherr soIl den geistlichen Stand nicht verbessern oder mehren, ohne Verwilligung des Adels und der Stande! Merkt das. Auch den Staat des Landes nicht verandern. SOEST. Ist das so? VANSEN. Ich will's Euch geschrieben zeigen, von zwey, drey hundert Jahren her.

46

Images of Goethe through Schiller's Egmont

2ter und 3ter BURGER. 42 {Jetter.} Und wir leiden die neuen Bischofe? [50] Der Adel mufi uns schiitzen, wir fangen Handel an. Iter Iter BURGER. Und wir lassen uns von der Inquisition ins Bockshorn jagen. VANSEN. Das ist Eure Schuld.43 ALLE BURGER. 44 {Jetter.} Wir haben noch Egmont! noch Oranien! Die sorgen fur unser Bestes. VANSEN. Eure Bruder in Flandern haben das gute Werk angefangen. SEIFENSIEDER. Du Hund! Er schlagt ihn. [51] 2ter BURGER. Bist du auch ein Spanier? zugleich 3ter BURGER. Was? den Ehrenmann? zugleich Iter BURGER. Den Gelahrten? Sie fallen den Seifensieder an.45 ZIMMERMEISTER. Um's Himmelswillen ruht! Soest et jetter. mischen sich in den Streit. Weiber. schreyen darein. Soldaten. stehen undgaffen. [52]Andere. gehen gelassen aufundab. ALLE BURGER. in Handgemenge zusammen Unsre Privilegien! Privilegien und Gewissens-Freyheit!46 Scenes Vorige. Egmont, mit Begleitung. EGMONT. Ruhig! Ruhig Leute! Was giebt's? Ruhe! zu seinem Gefolge Bringt sie auseinander! Etliche von seinem Gefolge und Buyk gehen ab, Vansen lauftfort. [53] ZIMMERMEISTER. Gnadiger Herr, Ihr kommt wie ein Engel des Himmels. Stille!47 Seht Ihr nichts? Graf Egmont, dem Grafen Egmont Reverenz. {Alle nehmen die Mutzen ab.48} EGMONT. {Auch hier?} Was fangt Ihr an? Burger gegen Burger! Halt sogar die Nahe unserer koniglichen Regentin diesen Unsinn nicht zuruck? Geht auseinander.49 {Geht an Euer Gewerbe. Es ist ein ubles Zeichen.50} Was war's? Der Tumult stillt sich nach und nach: Das Volk weicht ehrerbietig nach dem Hintergrunde zuruck, daft ein freyer [54] Raum um Egmont wird. Vorn bleiben Soest, Jetter, Zimmermeister und Seifensieder, zwey aufjeder Seite des Theaters.

47

Egmont. Ein Trauerspiel in dreyAufzugen

ZIMMERMEISTER. Sie schlagen sich um ihre Privilegien. EGMONT. Die sie noch muthwillig zertrummern werden - Und wer seyd Ihr? Ihr scheint mir rechtliche Leute. ZIMMERMEISTER. Das ist unser Bestreben. EGMONT. zum Zimmermeister: Eures Zeichens? [55] ZIMMERMEISTER. Zimmermann, und Zunftmeister. EGMONT. zu SoestUnd Ihr? SOEST. Kramer. EGMONT. zum Seifensieder Ihr? SEIFENSIEDER. Seifensicder. EGMONT. zu Jetters1 Ihr? JETTER. Schneider. EGMONT. Ich erinnere mich, Ihr habt mit an [56] den Livreen fur meine Leute gearbeitet. Euer Name ist Jetter. JETTER. Gnade, dafi Ihr Euch dessen erinnert. EGMONT. Ich vergesse niemanden Ieicht, den ich einmal gesehen und gesprochen habe. - Was an Euch ist, Ruhe zu erhalten, Leute, das thut, Ihr seyd ubel genug angeschrieben. Reitzt den Konig nicht mehr, er hat zuletzt doch die Gewalt in Handen. Ein ordentlicher Burger, der sich ehrlich und fleifsig nahrt, hat uberall so viel Freyheit als er braucht. [57] ZIMMERMEISTER. Ach wohl! Das ist eben unsre Noth! Die Tagediebe, die Saufer, die Faulenzer, mit Euer Gnaden Verlaub, die stankern aus Langerweile, und52 scharren aus Hunger nach Privilegien, und lugen den Neugierigen und Leichtglaubigen was vor; und um eine Kanne Bier bezahlt zu kriegen, fangen sie Handel an, die viel tausend Menschen unglucklich machen. Das ist ihnen eben recht. Wir halten unsre Hauser und Kasten zu gut verwahrt; da mochten sie gern uns mit Feuerbranden davontreiben. [58] EGMONT. Allen Beystand sollt Ihr finden; es sind Maafiregeln genommen, dem Ubel kraftig zu begegnen. Steht fest gegen die fremde Lehre, und glaubt nicht, durch Aufruhr befestige man Privilegien. Bleibt zu Hause; leidet nicht, dafi sie sich auf den Strafien rotten. Vernunftige Leute konnen viel thun. ZIMMERMEISTER. Danken Euer Exzellenz, danken fur die gute Meynung! Alles was an uns liegt. EGMONT. Was giebt's? [59] Einige von Egmonts Leuten treten mit Vamen auf, und erregen im Hintergrunde ein Gedrdnge. BUYK. Diesen da haben wir aufgefangen. Er wollte sich fluchtig machen. Sie sagen, er sey der Aufhezer und Handelstifter gewesen. EGMONT. Nach dem Hintergrundegehend Lafit die Menge zurucktreten - Platz -53 Wer bist du Unglucklicher? Er spricht don, d a f i er vorne nicht kann gehort werder54

48

Images of Goethe through Schiller's Egmont

[60] ZIMMERMEISTER. Ein gnadiger Herd Der achte Niederlander! Gar so nichts Spanisches. SOEST. Hatten wir ihn nur zum Regenten. Man folgt ihm gerne. JETTER. Hast du das Kleid gesehen? Das war nach der neuesten Art, nach spanischem Schnitte. ZIMMERMEISTER. Ein schoner Herr!55 SOEST. Sein Hals war' ein rechtes Fressen fur einen Scharfrichter. [61] ZIMMERMEISTER. Bist du toll? Was kommt dir ein? SOEST. Dumm genug, dafi einem so etwas einfallt — Es ist mir nun so. Wenn ich einen schonen langen Hals sehe, mufi ich gleich wider Willen denken: der ist gut zu kopfen - Die verfluchten Exekutionen! man kriegt sie nicht aus dem Sinn.56 Wenn die Bursche schwimmen, und ich sehe einen nakten Buckel, gleich fallen sie mir zu Dutzenden ein, die ich habe mit Ruthen streichen sehen. Begegnet mir ein rechter [62] Wanst, meyn ich, den seh ich schon am Pfahl braten. EGMONT. 57 vorwarts kommend zu Vansen Unsinniger Mensch! Weifit du die gescharften Befehle des Konigs, und dafi ich dich ohne weiters durchpeitschen lassen und uber die Grenzen schaffen sollte. - Aber was hilft mir dein zerschlagener Buckel? — Man mag ihn laufen lassen fur diesmal, er wird sich huten, mir zum zweyten mal in den Weg zu kommen. Zu dem Volk Ich seh es [63] wohl, wir sind euch viel zu mild, zu menschlich — Ihr seyd es mude, von euern Landsleuten beherrscht zu seyn - eine spanische Regierung wollt Ihr - und die wird euch werden, eh ihrs denkt. ab58 Scene 6.59 Zimmer bey Egmont RICHARD allein. an einem Tisch mitPapieren; ersteht unruhigaufEr kommt immer nicht! und ichan einem Tisch mitPapieren; ersteht unruhigaufEr kommt immer nicht! und ich warte schon zwey Stunden, die Feder in der Hand,60 die Papiere vor mir; und eben heute mogt ich gern so zeitig fort. Es brennt mir unter den Sohlen. Ich kann vor Ungeduld [64] kaum bleiben. "Sey auf die Stunde da," befahl ermir noch, ehe er wegging; nun kommt er nicht. Es ist so viel zu thun, ich werde vor Mitternacht nicht fertig. Freylich sieht er einem auch einmal durch die Finger. Doch hielt ich's besser, wenn er strenge ware, und lieSe einen auch wieder zur bestimmten Zeit. Man konnte sich einrichten.61 Von der Regentinn ist er nun schon zwey Stunden weg, wer weifi, wen er unterwegs angefafit hat. Scene 7. Egmont. Richard. [65] EGMONT. Wie sieht's aus?

49

Egmont. Ein Tmuerspiel in drey Aufciigen

RICHARD. Ich bin bereit, und drey Bothen warten. EGMONT. Ich bin dir wohl zu lang geblieben; du machst ein verdrufilich Gesicht. RICHARD. Euerm Befehl zu gehorchen, wart' ich schon lange. Hier sind die Papiere. EGMONT. Donna Elvira wird bose auf mich werden, wenn sie hort, dafi ich dich abgehalten habe. RICHARD. Ihrscherzt. [66] EGMONT. Nein, nein! Scharne dich nicht. Du zeigst einen guten Geschmack. Sie ist hubsch, und es ist mir ganz recht, dafi du auf dem Schlofie eine Freundinn hast. Was sagen die Briefe? RICHARD. Mancherley und wenig erfreuliches. EGMONT. Das ist gut {Da ists gut}, dafi wir die Freude zu Hause haben, und sie nicht auswarts her zu erwarten brauchen - Sag' an, das nothigste. RICHARD. Es ist alles notig. [67] EGMONT. Eins nach dem andern, nur geschwind! RICHARD. Hauptmann Breda schickt die Relation, was weiter in Gent und der umliegenden Gegend vorgefallen.62 Der Tumult hat sich meistens gelegt EGMONT. Er schreibt wohl noch von einzelnen Ungezogenheiten und Tollkuhnheiten? RICHARD. Ja! es kommt noch manches vor. EGMONT. Verschone mich damit. RICHARD. Noch sechs sind eingezogen worden, die [68] bey Verwich das Marienbild umgerissen haben. Er fragt an, ob er sie auch wie die Andern soIl hangen lassen? EGMONT. Ich bin des Hangens mude. Man soIl sie durchpeitschen und sie mogen gehen. RICHARD. Es sind zwey Weiber dabey; soIl er die auch durchpeitschen? EGMONT. Die mag er warnen und laufen lassen. RICHARD. Ein Brief von Eurem Einnehmer.63 [69] Er schreibt: es komme wenig Geld ein, er konne auf die Wache die verlangte Summe schwerlich schicken; der Tumult habe in alles die grofite Konfufiion gebracht. EGMONT. Das Geld mufi herbey; er mag sehen, wie er es zusammen bringt. RICHARD. Er sagt: er werde sein moglichstes thun! Er wolle den alten Soldaten, den Wittwen und einigen andern, denen Ihr Gnadengehalt gebt, die Gebuhr einen halben Monath zuruck halten, man konne [70] indessen Rath schaffen; sie mochten sich einrichten. EGMONT. Was ist da einzurichten? Die Leute brauchen das Geld notiger als ich. Das soIl er bleiben lassen. RICHARD. Woher befehlt Ihr denn, dafi er das Geld nehmen soIl? EGMONT. Darauf mag er denken; es ist ihm im vorigen Briefe schon gesagt. RICHARD. Defiwegen thut er die Vorschlage. [71] EGMONT. Die taugen nicht. Er soIl auf was anders sinnen. Er soIl Vorschlage thun, die annehmlich sind, und vor allem soIl er das Geld schicken.

5o Images of Goethe through Schiller's Egmont

RICHARD. Ich habe den Brief des Grafen Oliva wieder hieher gelegt. Verzeiht, dafi ich Euch daran erinnere. Der alte Herr verdient vor alien andern eine ausfiihrliche Antwort.64 Ihr wolltet ihm selbst schreiben. Gewifi er liebt Euch wie ein Vater.65 EGMONT. Ich komme nicht dazu. Und unter viel [72] Verhafitem ist mir das Schreiben das Verhafiteste. Du machst meine Hand ja so gut nach; schreib' in meinem Namen — Beruhige Ihn66 — Ich erwarte Oranien. {Ich komme nicht dazu und wunschte doch selbst, dafi ihm auf seine Bedenklichkeiten was recht Beruhigendes geschrieben wurde.67} RICHARD. Sagt mir nur ungefahr eure Meynung, ich will die Antwort schon aufsetzen und sie Euch vorlegen. Geschrieben soIl sie werden, dafi sie vor Gericht fur Eure Hand gelten kann. EGMONT. Gieb mir den Brief, nachdem er hinein gesehen Guter ehrlicher Alter! [73] Warst du in deiner Jugend auch wohl so bedachtig? Erstiegst du nie einen Wall? Bliebst du in der Schlacht, wo es die Klugheit anrath, hinten? - Der treue Sorgliche. Er will mein Leben und mein Gluck; und fuhlt nicht, dafi der schon todt ist, der um seiner Sicherheit willen lebt. - Schreib' ihm: er moge unbesorgt seyn; ich handle, wie ich soIl, ich wurde mich schon wahren; sein Ansehen bey Hofe soIl er zu meinen Gunsten brauchen, und meines vollkommenen Dankes gewifi seyn. RICHARD. Nichts weiter? O er erwartet mehr. [74] EGMONT. Was soIl ich mehr sagen? Willst du mehr Worte machen; so stehts bey dir. Es dreht sich immer um den einen Punkt; ich soIl leben, wie ich nicht leben kann,68 wie ich nicht leben mag; dafi ich frohlich bin, die Sachen leicht nehme, rasch lebe, das ist mein Gluck; und ich vertauschte es nicht gegen die Sicherheit eines Todten-Gewolbes. Ich habe nun zu der Spanischen Lebensart, nicht einen Bluttropfen in meinen Adern, nicht Lust, meine Schritte nach der neuen bedachtigen Hof-Kadenz zu mustern.69 [75] Leb' ich nur um aufs Leben zu denken? SoIl ich den gegenwartigen Augenblick nicht genieKen, damit ich des folgenden gewifi sey? — Und diesen wieder mit Sorgen und Grillen verzehren?70 RICHARD. 71 Ich bitt' Euch, Herr, seyd nicht so barsch und rauh gegen den Mann. Ihr seyd ja sonst gegen alle freundlich. Sagt mir ein gefalliges Wort, das den edlen Freund beruhige. Seht, wie sorgfaltig er ist! wie leise er euch beriihrt. [76] EGMONT. Und doch beriihrt er immer diese Sake. Er weif? von Alters her, wie verhafo mir diese Ermahnungen sind, sie machen nur irre, sie helfen nichts. {Und wenn ich ein Nachtwandler ware und auf dem ... 72} Lafo jeden Seines Pfades gehen, er mag sich wahren. RICHARD. Es ziemt Euch nicht zu sorgen, aber was Euch kennt und liebt -73 EGMONT. in den Brief sehend Da bringt er wieder die alien Mahrchen auf, was wir an einem Abend im leichten [77] Ubermuth der Gefalligkeit und des Weins getrieben und gesprochen; und was man daraus fur Folgen und Beweise durchs ganze Konigreich gezogen und geschleppt habe — Nun gut! wir haben Schellen-

ji

Egmont. Ein Tniuerspielin dreyAujzugen

kappen, Narrenkutten auf unsrer Diener Ermel stecken74 lassen, und haben diese tolle Zierde nachher in ein Biindel Pfeile verwandelt; ein noch gefahrlicher Symbol fur alle, die deuten wollen, wo nichts zu deuten ist. Wir haben diese und jene Thorheit in einem lustigen Augenblick angefangen [78] und gebohren, sind schuld, dafi eine ganze edle Schaar mit Bettelsacken und einem selbst gewahlten Unnahmen, dem Konige seine Pflicht mit spottender Demuth ins Gedachtnis rief, sind schuld -75 was ists nun weiter? Ist ein Fastnachtsspiel gleich Hochverrath? Sind uns die kurzen bun ten Lappen zu mifigonnen, die ein jugendlicher Muth, eine angefrischte Phantasie um unsres Lebens arme Blose hangen mag?7* Wenn ihr das Leben gar zu ernsthaft nehmt, was ist dann daran? Wenn uns der [79] Morgen nicht zu neuen Freuden weckt, am Abend uns keine Lust zu hoffen iibrig bleibt; ists wohl des An= und Ausziehens werth? Scheint mir die Sonne heut, um das zu iiberlegen, was gestern war? und um zu {erjrathen, zu verbinden, was nicht zu errathen, nicht zu verbinden ist, das Schicksal eines kommenden Tages? Schenke mir diese Betrachtungen; wir wollen sie Schiilern und Hoflingen uberlassen. {Kannst Du von allem diesen etwas brauchen?77} Die mogen sinnen und aus sinnen, wandeln und schleichen, gelangen wohin sie konnen, erschleichen, was sie [8o/8] konnen.79 Dem guten Alten scheint alles viel zu wichtig. {So driickt ein Freund, der lang unsere Hand gehalten, sie starker noch einmal wenn er sie lassen will.80} RICHARD. Verzeiht mir. Es wird dem FuKganger schwindlich, der einen Mann mit rasselnder Eile daher fahren sieht.81 EGMONT. Nicht weiter! Wie von unsichtbaren Geistern zerpeitscht, gehen die Sonnenpferdte der Zeit mit unsers Schicksals leichten Wagen durch; und uns bleibt nichts, als muthig gefafit, die Ziigel fest zu halten, und bald rechts bald links, vom Steine hier, [81] vom Sturze da, die Rader wegzulenken. Wohin es geht, wer weifi es? Erinnert er sich doch kaum, woher er kam? RICHARD. Herr! Herr! EGMONT. Ich stehe hoch, und kann und mu8 Hofrhung, Muth und Kraft. Noch hab' ich meines Wachsthums Gipfel nicht erreicht; und steh ich droben einst, so will ich fest, nicht angstlich stehen; soil ich fallen; so mag ein Donnerschlag, ein Sturmwind, da ein selbst [82] verfehlter Schritt mich abwarts in die Tiefe stiirzen; da lieg ich mit viel Tausenden. Ich habe nie verschmaht, mit meinen guten Kriegsgesellen um kleinen Gewinnst das blutige Loos zu werfen; und sollt' ich knickern, wenn's um den ganzen freyen Werth des Lebens geht? RICHARD. O Herr! Ihr wifit nicht, was fur Worte Ihr sprecht! Gott erhalt' Euch! EGMONT. Nimm deine Papiere zusammen. Oranien kommt. Fertige aus, was [83] am nothigsten ist, dafi die Bothen fort kommen. Den Brief an den Grafen lafi bis Morgen. Versaume nicht, Elviren zu besuchen, und griifie sie von mir Horche, wie sich die Regentin befindet; sie soil nicht wohl seyn, ob sie's gleich verbirgt. Bey meiner Klara findest du mich, wenn etwas vorfallt.82 Richard geht ab.

52 Images of Goethe through Schiller's Egmont Scene 8. Egmont. Prinz von Oranien. EGMONT. Willkommen, Oranien. Ihr scheint [84] mir nicht ganz frey. ORANIEN. Was sagt Ihr zu unsrer Unterhaltung mit der Regentinn? EGMONT. Ich fand in ihrer Art uns aufzunehmen, nichts aufierordentliches. Ich habe sie schon offers so gesehen. Sie schien mir nicht ganz wohl. ORANIEN. Merktet Ihr nicht, dafi sie zuriickhaltender war? Erst wollte sie unser Betragen bey dem neuen Aufruhr des Pobels gelassen billigen; nachher merkte [85] sie an, was sich doch auch fur ein solches Licht darauf werfen lasse; wich dann mit dem Gesprache zu ihrem alten gewohnlichen Discours,8' {ging dann mit dem Gesprache auf ihr altes gewohnliches Thema,} dafi man ihre liebevolle gute Art, ihre Freundschaft zu uns Niederlandern, nie genug erkannt, zu leicht behandelt habe,84 dafi sie am Ende wohl miide werden, der Konig sich zu anderen Maafiregeln entschliefien miifie. Habt Ihr das gehort? EGMONT. Nicht alles; ich dachte unterdessen an was anders. Sie ist ein Weib, guter [86] Oranien, und die mochten immer gern, dafi sich alles unter ihr sanftes Joch gelassen schmiegte, dafi jeder Herkules die Lowenhaut ablegte; und ihren Kunkelhof vermehrte. Das ist ihr Fall; und da sie es dahin nicht bringen kann, so hat sie keinen Weg, als launisch zu werden, sich iiber Undankbarkeit, Unweifiheit zu beklagen, mit schrecklichen Aussichten in die Zukunft zu drohen, und zu drohen, dafi sie fort gehen will. ORANIEN. Man halt sie dieser Entschliefiung [87] nicht fahig, weil Ihr sie habt zaudern, weil Ihr sie habt zuriicktreten sehen; dennoch liegt's wohl in ihr, neue Umstande treiben sie zu dem lang verzb'gerten Entschlufi. Wenn sie ginge? und der Konig schickte einen andern? EGMONT. Nun der wiirde kommen, und eben auch zu thun finden.85 Mit grofien Planen, Projeckten und Gedanken wiirde er kommen, wie er alles zurecht riicken, unterwerfen und zusammenhalten wolle; und wiirde heut mit dieser Kleinigkeit, morgen mit einer [88] anderen zu thun haben, ubermorgen jene Hindernifie finden, einen andren mit Verdrufi iiber fehlgeschlagene Unternehmen, ein halb Jahr in Sorgen iiber eine einzige Provinz zubringen.86 Auch ihm wird die Zeit vergehen, der Kopf schwindeln, und die Dinge wie zuvor ihren Gang halten, dafi er, statt weite Meere nach einer vorgezogenen Linie zu durchsegeln,87 {dafi er} Gott danken mag, wenn er sein Schiff in diesem Sturme vom Felsen halt. ORANIEN. Wenn man nun aber dem Konig [89] zu einem Versuch riethe? EGMONT. Der ware? ORANIEN. Zu sehen, was der Rumpf ohne Haupt anfinge? EGMONT. Wie? ORANIEN. Egmont, ich trage viele Jahre her alle unsre Verhaltnifie am Herzen, ich stehe immer wie iiber einem Schachspiel, und halte keinen Zug das Gegners

53

Egmont. Ein Tntuerspielin drey Aufziigen

fur unbedeutend; und wie miiGige Menschen sich mit der grofiten [90] Sorgfalt um die Geheimnifie der Natur bekiimmern; so halte ich es fur Pflichr, fur Beruf eines Fiirsten, die Rathschlage aller Partheyen zu kennen.88 Ich habe Ursach, einen Ausbruch zu befiirchten. Der Konig hat lange nach gewissen Grundsatzen gehandelt, er sieht, daf? er damit nicht aus kommt; was ist wahrscheinlicher, als dafi er es auf einem andern Wege versucht? EGMONT. Ich glaub's nicht. Wenn man alt wird, und hat so viel versucht, und es will in der Welt nie zur Ordnung kommen, [91] mufi man es endlich wohl genug haben. ORANIEN. Eins hat er noch nicht versucht. EGMONT. Nun? ORANIEN. Das Volk zu schonen, und die Fursten zu verderben. EGMONT. Wie Viele haben das schon lange gefurchtet! Es ist keine Sorge! ORANIEN. Sonst war's Sorge; nach und nach ist mir's Vermuthung, zuletzt Gewifiheit geworden.89 [92] EGMONT. Und90 hat der Konig treuere Diener als uns? ORANIEN. Wir dienen Ihm auf unsre Art; und unter einander konnen wir gestehen, dafi wir des Konigs Rechte und die unsrigen wohl abzuwagen wissen. EGMONT. Wer thut's nicht? Wir sind ihm unterthan und gewartig; in dem was ihm zukommt. ORANIEN. Wenn er sich nun aber mehr zuschriebe, und Treulosigkeit nennte, was wir [93] heifsen, auf unsre Rechte halten? EGMONT. Wir werden uns vertheidigen konnen. Er rufe die Ritter des Vliesses zusammen, wir wollen uns richten lassen. ORANIEN. Und was ware ein Urtheil vor der Untersuchung? eine Strafe vor dem Urtheil? EGMONT. Eine Ungerechtigkeit, der sich Philipp nie schuldig machen wird; und eine Thorheit, die ich ihm und seinen Rathen nicht zutraue. [94] ORANIEN. Und wenn sie ungerecht und thoricht waren? EGMONT. 91 Nein, Oranien, es ist nicht moglich. Wer sollte wagen92 {sich erkiihnen}, Hand an uns zu legen? - Uns gefangen zu nehmen, war ein verlornes und fruchtloses Unternehmen. Nein, sie wagen nicht, das Panier der Tyranney so hoch zu stecken. Der Windhauch, der diese Nachricht liber's Land brachte, wiirde ein ungeheueres Feuer zusammen treiben. Und wohinaus wollten sie? Richten und verdammen kann nicht [95] der Konig allein; und wollten sie meuchelmorderisch an unser Leben? - Sie konnen nicht wollen. Ein schrecklicher Bund wiirde in einem Augenblick das Volck vereinigen, Hafi und ewige Trennung vom spanischen Namen wiirde sich gewaltsam erklaren.93 ORANIEN. Die Flamme wiithete dann iiber unserm Grabe, und das Blut unsrer Feinde flosse zum leeren Siihnopfer. {La6 uns denken, Egmont.94}

54

Images of Goethe through Schiller's Egmont

Scene?.9'' Prinz von Oranien. Egmont. Richard, dringend und erschrocken [96] EGMONT. Du siehst ja ganz verstort aus, Richard - was bringst du? RICHARD. Die Regentinn ruft Euch — Euch auch Prinz von Oranien. — Es ist dringend - der ganze Staatsrath wird versammelt - Macht Euch gefafit, eine sehr schlimme Zeitung zu vernehmen. ORANIEN. Ich lese sie in deinem entfarbten Gesicht - Herzog Alba ist unterwegs. RICHARD. Er steht schon an den Grenzen von [97] Brabant, von zehn spanischen Regimentern begleitet. Egmont und Oranien sehen sich einander betroffen an. RICHARD, fahrt nach einer Pause fort So eben brachte ein Eilboth der Statthalterinn die Nachricht - Es sind auch Briefe vom Konig angekommen, die sie sehr beunruhigen. - Ich erfuhr es auf dem Schlofie von Donna Elvira, und sprengte sogleich hieher, euch vorzubereiten.'6 — Die Bestiirzung ist allgemein, alles zittert vor dem Mordsinne des Her-[98]zogs, und man fiirchtet, dafi die Regentin ihm Platz machen werde. EGMONT. Lafi uns allein, Richard. Richard geht ab. Scene 10. Egmont. Oranien. EGMONT. nach einer Pause Euer Geist hat Euch dies gut geweifisagt, Oranien aber ich hofife, Ihr sollt Euch dennoch geirrt haben. ORANIEN. Wie Egmont? Was erwartet Ihr noch? Wiirde der Konig einen Alba [99] gewahlt haben, um den Weg der Giite zu versuchen? Wiirde er, den feyerlichsten Vertragen zuwider, Spanier in die Niederlande fiihren, wenn er ihre Freyheit nicht zu Boden treten will? EGMONT. auf und abgehend in grower BewegungKuk neue die Provinzen zu belastigen? das Volck wird hochst schwierig werden. ORANIEN. Man wird sich der Haupter versichern. EGMONT. Nein! nein! [100] ORANIEN. Lafi uns gehen, jeder in seine Provinz. Dort wollen wir uns verstarken; mit ofFener Gewalt fangt er nicht an. EGMONT. MiiEen wir ihn nicht begrufien, wenn er kommt? ORANIEN. Wir zogern? EGMONT. Und wenn er uns im Namen des Konigs bey seiner Ankunft fordert?

55

Egmont. Bin Traumpielin drey Aufeiigen

ORANIEN. Suchen wir Ausfliichte. [101] EGMONT. Und wenn er dringt? ORANIEN. Entschuldigen wir uns. EGMONT. Und wenn er darauf besteht? ORANIEN. Kommen wir um so weniger. EGMONT. Und der Krieg ist erklart, und wir sind die Rebellen. Oranien, lafi dich nicht durch Klugheit verfiihren; ich weifi, dafi Furcht dich nicht weichen macht. Bedenke den Schritt. ORANIEN. Ich hab' ihn bedacht. [102,] EGMONT. Bedenke, wenn du dich irrst, woran du Schuld bist; an dem verderblichsten Kriege, der je ein Land verwiistet hat. Dein Weigern ist das Signal, das die Provinzen mit Einemmale zu den Waffen ruft, das jede Grausamkeit rechtfertigt, wozu Spanien von jeher nur gern den Vorwand gehascht hat. Was wir lange miihselig gestillt haben, wirst du mit einem Winke zur schrecklichsten Verwirrung aufhetzen.97 Denk' an die Stadte, die Edeln, das Volck, an die Handlung,98 [103] den Feldbau, die Gewerbe! und denke die Verwiistung, den Mord! - Ruhig sieht der Soldat wohl im Felde seinen Kameraden neben sich niederfallen; aber den Flufi herunter werden dir die Leichen der Burger, der Kinder, der Jungfrauen entgegen schwimmen, dafi du mit Entsetzen da stehst, und nicht mehr weifit, wessen Sache du vertheidigst; da die zu Grunde gehen, fur deren Freyheit du die Waffen ergreifst. Und wie wird dirs seyn, wenn du dir still sagen mufit: fur meine Sicherheit ergriff ich sie. ORANIEN. Wir sind nicht einzelne Menschen, Eg-[iO4]mont. Ziemt es sich, uns fur Tausende hinzugeben; so ziemt es sich auch, uns fur Tausende zu schonen. EGMONT. Wer sich schont, mufi sich selbst verdachtig werden. ORANIEN. Wer sich kennt, kann sicher vor- und riickwarts gehen. EGMONT. Das Ubel, das du furchtest, wird gewifi durch deine That. ORANIEN. Es ist klug und kiihn, dem unvermeidlichen Ubel entgegen zu gehen. Wir" {Egmont. [105] Bei so grofier Gefahr, kommt auch die leichteste Hoffnung in Anschlag. Oranien.} haben nicht fur den leisesten FuEtritt Platz mehr, der Abgrund liegt hart vor uns. EGMONT. Ist des Konigs Gunst ein so schmaler Grund? ORANIEN. So schmal nicht, aber schliipfrig. EGMONT. Bey Gott! man thut ihm Unrecht. Ich mag nicht leiden, da{? man unwiirdig von ihm denkt! Er ist Karls Sohn und keiner Niedrigkeit fahig. Man sollte ihn kennen lernen. ORANIEN. Eben diese KenntniK rath uns, eine [106] gefahrliche Probe nicht abzuwarten. EGMONT. Keine Probe ist gefahrlich, zu der man Muth hat. ORANIEN. Du wirst aufgebracht, Egmont. EGMONT. Ich mufi mit meinen Augen sehen. ORANIEN. O sah'st du diesmal nur mit den meinigen! Freund, weil du sie offen hast, glaubst du, du siehst. Ich gehe! warte du Albas Ankunft ab, und Gott sey

56 Images of Goethe through Schiller's Egmont

bey dir. Vielleicht rettet dich mein Weigern. Vielleicht daE der [107] Drache nichts zu fangen glaubt, wenn er uns nicht Beyde auf Einmal verschlingt. Vielleicht zogert er, um seinen Anschlag sicherer auszufiihren; und vielleicht siehst du indeE die Sache in ihrer wahren Gestalt. Aber dann schnell! schnell! Rette! rette dich! - Leb' wohl! LaE deiner Aufmerksamkeit nichts entgehen: wie viel Mannschaft er mit bringt, wie er die Stadt besetzt, wie deine Freunde gefaEt sind. Gieb mir Nachricht - Egmont!100 EGMONT. Was willst du? [108] ORANIEN. ihn bey der Handfassend: LaE dich iiberreden! Geh mit! EGMONT. Wie? Thranen, Oranien? ORANIEN. Einen Verlohrnen zu beweinen, ist auch mannlich. EGMONT. Du wahnst mich verlohren? ORANIEN. Du bist's. Bedenke! Dir bleibt nur eine kurze Frist. Lebe wohl. ab EGMONT. allein DaE andrer Menschen Gedanken [109] solchen Einflufi auf uns haben! Mir war' es nie eingekommen; und dieser Mann tragt seine Sorglichkeit in mich heriiber. - Weg! - Das ist ein fremdes Tropfen in meinem Blute. Gute Natur, wirf ihn wieder heraus! und von meiner Stirn die sinnenden Runzeln wegzubaden, giebt es ja wohl noch ein freundliches Mittel. Ende des ersten Acts.101

57

Egmont. Ein Trauerspiel in dreyAufaigen

[no] Actus II. Strafie.™ Scene i^ Jetter. Zimmermeister. JETTER. He! pst! he! Nachbar, ein Wort! ZIMMERMEISTER. Geh deines Pfads und sey ruhig. JETTER. Nur ein Wort. Niches neues? ZIMMERMEISTER. Nichts, als dafi uns von neuem zu reden verboten ist. JETTER. Wie? [in] ZIMMERMEISTER. Tretet hier ans Haus an. Hiitet Euch! der Herzog von Alba hat gleich bey seiner Ankunft einen Befehl ausgehen lassen, dadurch zwey oder drey, die auf der Strafie zusammen sprechen des Hochverraths ohne Untersuchung schuldig erklart sind. JETTER. O weh! ZIMMERMEISTER. Bey ewiger Gefangenschaft ist verboten, von Staatssachen zu reden. JETTER. O unsre gute, alte Verfassung!104 [112] ZIMMERMEISTER. Und bey Todesstrafe soil niemand die Handlungen der Regierung mifibilligen. JETTER. O unsre Kopfe! ZIMMERMEISTER. Und mit grofien Versprechen, werden Vater, Miitter, Kinder, Verwandte, Freunde, Dienstbothen eingeladen, was in dem innersten des Hauses vorgeht, bey dem besonders niedergesetzten Gerichte zu ofFenbaren. JETTER. Gehn wir nach Hause. [113] ZIMMERMEISTER. Und den Folgsamen ist versprochen, dafi sie weder am Leibe noch Ehre, noch Vermogen einige Krankung erdulden sollen. JETTER. Wie gnadig! War mir's doch gleich weh, wie der Herzog in die Stadt kam. Seit der Zeit ist mir's, als wann der Himmel mit einem schwarzen Flor iiberzogen, und hinge so tief herunter, dafi man sich biiken mufite, um nicht {daran} zu stofien. ZIMMERMEISTER. Und wie haben dir seine Soldaten ge-[ii4]fallen? Gelt, das ist eine andere Art von Krebsen, wie wir sie sonst gewohnt waren. JETTER. Pfuy! Es schniirt einem das Herz ein, wenn man so einen Haufen die Gassen hinab marschieren sieht. Kerzengerad mit unverwandtem Blick, ein*°5 Tritt so viel ihrer sind. Und wenn sie auf der Schildwache stehen, und du gehst vor einem vorbey, ist's, als wenn er dich durch und durch sehen wollte, und sieht so steif und murrisch aus, dafi du auf alien Ecken einen Zuchtmeister zu sehen glaubst. Sie thun mir gar nicht wohl. [115] Unsre Militz war doch noch ein lustig Volck; sie nahmen sich was heraus, standen mit ausgekratschten

58 Images of Goethe through Schiller's Egmont Beinen da, hatten den Huth iiber'm Ohre, lebten und lieKen leben: diese Kerle aber sind wie Maschinen, in denen ein Teufel sitzt. ZIMMERMEISTER. Wenn so ciner ruft: "Halt!" und anschlagt, meynst du, man hielte? JETTER. Ich ware gleich des Todes. ZIMMERMEISTER. Gehn wir nach Hause. [116] JETTER. Es wird nicht gut. Adieu. Scene 2. Vorige. Soest.

SOEST. Freunde! Genossen! ZIMMERMEISTER. Still! lafo uns gehen. SOEST. WiEt Ihr! JETTER. Nur zu viel! SOEST. Die Regentin ist weg. [117] JETTER. Nun gnad' uns Gott. ZIMMERMEISTER. Die hielt uns noch. SOEST. Auf einmal und in der Stille. Sie konnte sich mil dem Herzog nicht vertragen; sie Iie6 dem Adel melden, sie komme wieder. Niemand glaubts. ZIMMERMEISTER. Gott verzeihs dem Adel, daf? er uns diese neue Geissel iiber den Hals gelassen hat. Sie hatten es abwenden konnen, unsre Privilegien sind hin.106 [118] JETTER. Um Gotteswillen nichts von Privilegien. Ich wittre den Geruch von einem Exekutionsmorgen; die Sonne will nicht hervor, die Nebel sunken. SOEST. Oranien ist auch weg. ZIMMERMEISTER. So sind wir denn ganz verlassen! SOEST. Graf Egmont ist noch da. JETTER. Gott sey dank! Starken ihn alle Heiligen, da6 er sein bestes thut; der ist allein was vermogend. [119] Scene 3. Vorige. Vansen.

VANSEN. Find ich endlich ein paar, die noch nicht untergekrochen sind? JETTER. Thut uns den Gefallen und geht fiirbafi. VANSEN. Ihr seyd nicht hoflich. ZIMMERMEISTER. Es ist gar keine Zeit zu Komplimenten. Juckt euch der Bukkel wieder? VANSEN. Fragt einen Soldaten nach seinen [120] Wunden. Wenn ich auf Schlage was gegeben hatte, ware sein' Tage nichts aus mir geworden.

59

Egmont. Bin Trauenpiei in drey Aujziigen

JETTER. Es kann ernstlicher werden. VANSEN. Ihr spiirt von dem Gewitter, das aufsteigt, eine erbarmliche Mattigkeit in den Gliedern, scheints. ZIMMERMEISTER. Deine Glieder werden sich bald wo anders eine Motion machen, wenn du nicht ruhst. VANSEN. Armselige Mause, die gleich verzweifeln, [121] wenn der Hausherr eine neue Katze anschafft! nur ein bischen anders; aber wir treiben unser Wesen vor wie nach {nach wie vor}, seyd nur ruhig. ZIMMERMEISTER. Du bist ein verwegenerlsMgenichtsl VANSEN. Gevatter Tropfl Lafi du den Herzog nur gewahren. Der alte Kater sieht aus, als wenn er Teufel statt Mause gefressen hatte und konnte sie nun nicht verdauen. Lafit ihn nur erst; er mufi essen, trinken, schlafen, wie andere Menschen. Es ist mir nicht [122] bange, wenn wir unsre Zeit recht nehmen.107 Im Anfange gehts rasch; nachher wird er auch finden, dafi in der Speysekammer unter den Speckseiten besser leben ist, und des Nachts zu ruhn, als auf dem Fruchtboden einzelne Mauschen zu erlisten. Geht nur, ich kenne die Statthalter. ZIMMERMEISTER. Was so einem Menschen alles durchgeht! Wenn ich in meinem Leben so etwas gesagt hatte, hielt ich mich keine Minute fur sicher. [123] VANSEN. Seyd nur ruhig. Gott im Himmel erfahrt nichts von Euch Wiirmern, geschweige der Regent. JETTER. Lastermaul. VANSEN. Ich weif? andere, denen es besser ware, sie hatten statt ihres Heldenmuths eine Schneiderader im Leibe. ZIMMERMEISTER. Was wollt Ihr damit sagen? VANSEN. Hm! den Grafen meyn ich. [124] JETTER. Egmont! Was soil der furchten? VANSEN. Ich bin ein armer Teufel und konnte ein ganzes Jahr leben, von dem was er in einem Abend verliert. Und doch konnt er mir sein Einkommen eines ganzen Jahres geben, wenn er meinen Kopf eine Viertelstunde hatte. ZIMMERMEISTER. Du denkst dich was rechts. Egmonts Haare sind gescheiter als dein Him. VANSEN. Red't Ihr! Aber nicht feiner. Die [125] Herren betriigen sich am ersten. Er sollte nicht trauen. JETTER. Was er schwatzt! So ein Herr! VANSEN. Eben weil er kein Schneider ist. JETTER. Ungewaschen Maul! VANSEN. Dem wollt ich cure Courage nur eine Stunde in die Glieder wiinschen, daf? sie ihm da Unruhe machte und ihn so lange neckte, bis er aus der Stadt miifee. [126] JETTER. Ihr redet recht unverstandig; er ist so sicher wie der Stern am Himmel. VANSEN. Hast du nie einen sich schneuzen gesehen? Weg war er! ZIMMERMEISTER. Wer will ihm denn was thun?

60

Images of Goethe through Schiller's Egmont

VAN SEN. Wer will? Willst du's etwa hindern? Willst du einen Aufruhr wagen, wenn sie ihn gefangen nehmen? JETTER. Ach! VANSEN. Wollt Ihr euer{e} Rippen fur ihn wagen? [127] SOEST «W ZIMMERMEISTER. ZUgkich Eh!

VANSEN. sie nachaffendVtf. Ach! Oh! Verwundert Euch durch's ganze Alphabet! So ist's und bleibt's! Gott bewahre ihn! ZIMMERMEISTER. Ich erschrecke iiber Eure Unverschamtheit. So ein edler, rechtschaffner Herr sollte was zu befiirchten haben? VANSEN. Der Schelm sitzt iiberall im Vortheil. Auf dem Armen=Sunderstuhlchen hat er den Richter zum Narren; auf dem [128] Richtstuhl macht er den Inquisiten mit Lust zum Verbrechen. Ich habe so ein Protokoll abzuschreiben gehabt, wo der Kommisarius schwer Lob und Geld vom Hofe erhielte, weil er einen ehrlichen Teufel, an den man wollte, zum Schelmen verhort hatte. ZIMMERMEISTER. Das ist wieder frisch gelogen. Was wollen sie denn heraus verhoren, wenn einer unschuldig ist? VANSEN. O Spatzenkopf! Wo nichts heraus zu verhoren ist, da verhort man hinein. [129] Ehrlichkeit macht unbesonnen, auch wohl trotzig. Da fragt man erst sachte weg, und der Gefangene ist stolz auf seine Unschuld, wie sie s heifien, und sagt alles geradezu, was ein Verstandiger verbarge. Dann macht der Inquisitor aus den Antworten wieder Fragen, und paEt ja auf, wo irgend ein Widerspriichelchen erscheinen will; da kniipft er seinen Strick an; und lafit sich der dumme Teufel betreten, dafi er hier etwas zu viel, dort etwas zu wenig gesagt, oder wohl gar, aus Gott weifi was fur einer Grille einen [130] Umstand verschwiegen hat, auch wohl irgend an einem Ende sich hat schreken lassen;108 dann sind wir auf dem rechten Wege! Und ich versichere Euch! mit mehr Sorgfalt suchen die Bettelweiber nicht die Lumpen aus dem Kehrigt, als so ein Schelmenfabrikant aus kleinen, schiefen, verschobenen, verriickten, verdruckten, geschlossenen, bekannten, gelaugneten Anzeigen und Umstanden sich endlich einen strohlumpenen Vogelscheu zusammen kiinstelt, um wenigstens seinen Inquisiten in Effigie hangen zu konnen. [131] Und Gott mag der arme Teufel danken, wenn er sich noch kann hangen sehen. JETTER. Der hat eine gelaufige Zunge. ZIMMERMEISTER. Mit Fliegen mag das angehen. Die Wespen lachen Eures Gespinstes. VANSEN. Nachdem die Spinnen sind. Seht, der lange Herzog hat euch so ein rein Ansehn von einer Kreutzspinne; nicht einer dickbauchiger, die sind weniger schlimm, aber so einer langfiifiigen, [132] schmalleibigen, die vom FraSe nicht feist wird und recht diinne Faden zieht, aber desto zahere. ZIMMERMEISTER. 109 Egmont ist Ritter des goldenen Vlieses, wer darf Hand an ihn legen? Nur von seines Gleichen kann er gerichtet werden, nur vom gesammten Orden. Dein boses Maul, dein boses Gewissen verfuhren dich zu solchem Geschwatz. VANSEN. Will ich ihm darum iibel? Mir kann's recht seyn. Es ist ein trefflicher Herr. Ein Paar meiner guten Freunde, [133] die anderwarts schon waren gehan-

61

Egmont. Bin Trauerspiel in drey Aufzugen

gen {gehangt} worden, hat er mit einem Buckelvoll Schlage verabschiedet. Nun geht! geht! Ich rath' es Euch selbst. leiser sprechend Dort seh' ich wieder eine Runde antreten; die sehen nicht aus, als wenn sie sobald Briiderschaft mit uns trinken wiirden. Wir wollen's abwarten und nur sachte zusehen. Ich hab' ein Paar Nichten und einen Gevatter Schenkwirth; wenn sie von denen gekostet haben, und werden dann nicht zahm; so sind sie ausgepichte Wolfe. Sie schleichen sich auf verscbieden Wegenfort. {=Patrouille} [134] Aus dem Hintergrunde tritt die spanische Patrouille, undzieht sich vor bis tiber die Mitte des Theaters. Hier halt sie, schliefit einen weiten Halbkreis um den Anfuhrer, der jedem durch Zeichen mit der Hand seinen Fasten anweiftt. Aufseinen Commandowinck treten sie wieder aus einander, und ziehen in vier Haufen aufeben so viel verschiedenen Wegen ah. Alles geschieht in der groftten Stille und Ordnung und mit abgemessenem langsamem Schritt.110 Scene 4.ni Burgerliches Zimmer. Vorne ein [135] Tisch mit drey Stiihlen Klarchen. Ihre Mutter. KLARCHEN. Klarchen kommt aus der Hinterthiir, setzt sich an den Tisch, und macht Anstalt, Gam. an zwey Stiihlen aufouwinden. Gleich darauf kommt ihre Mutter. Man hort im Nebenzimmer ein Instrument spielen: dieser Auftritt wird leise gesprochen. MUTTER. Du lafit ihn allein, Klarchen - das wird ihn kranken. KLARCHEN. Verdenkt mir's nicht, seine Gegenwart [136] thut mir wehe. Ich weiE immer nicht, wie ich mich gegen ihn betragen soil. Ich habe Unrecht gegen ihn, und mich nagts am Herzen, dafi er{s) so lebendig fiihlt - Kann ichs doch nicht andern. MUTTER. Er ist ein so treuer Bursche. KLARCHEN. Ich kanns nicht lassen. Ich muf? ihm freundlich begegnen. Meine Hand driickt sich oft unversehens zu, wenn die seine mich so leise und liebevoll anfaSt - Ich mache mir Vorwiirfe, daE ich ihn betriige, da£ ich in seinem [137] Herzen eine vergebliche Hoffnung nahre. Ich bin iibel daran, weii? Gott, ich betriig' ihn nicht. Ich will nicht, daS er hoffen soil, und ich kann ihn doch nicht verzweiflen lassen. Man hort aufzu spielen. MUTTER. Das ist nicht gut. BRACKENBURG. an der ThiirMan ruft Euch Mutter. Mutter geht ab.

62 Images of Goethe through Schiller's Egmont Scene $. Brackenburg. Klarchen. BRACKENBURG. kommt still und traurig aus dem [138] Hinterzimmer, und stellt sich auf die entgegengesetzte Seite von Klarchen, welche auf ihre Arbeit sieht. Er betrachtet sie eine Zeit lang ohne zu reden. Ihr verschmaht meine Dienste, Klarchen. Sonst war es mein Arm, Euch das Garn zu halten beym Aufwinden. Auch daraus bin ich verdrangt wie aus allem. KLARCHEN. immer an der Arbeit Seyd nicht wunderlich Brackenburg. Das 1st keine Beschaftigung fur Euch. BRACKENBURG. Sonst war sie's. [139] KLARCHEN. Sonst! Die Zeiten sind vorbey. BRACKENBURG. Das fiihl ich. KLARCHEN. Versteht mich nicht unrecht. - Ich sehe Euch nicht gern als Weib beschaftigt, wenn Euch alles zuruft ein Mann zu seyn. BRACKENBURG. grubelndY)it Zeiten sind vorbey! KLARCHEN. Was war das auf der Strafie? Horch! BRACKENBURG. Was wird's seyn. Es sind die spanischen Patrouillen, die ihre Runde halten. [140] KLARCHEN. Seitdem dieser spanische Herzog in unsern Mauern ist, jagt jedes Gerausch mir Schrecken ein - indem sie cms Fenster tritt Was fiir finstre, feierliche Gesichter! Mich iiberlaufts kaJt, wenn ich sie ansehe, und es regt sich auch nichts in den Strafien. Kein lustiges Lied hort man mehr. Es ist alles wie ausgestorben. BRACKENBURG. Es wird noch leerer werden. KLARCHEN. wieder an ihre Arbeit gehend So gleichgtiltig sagt Ihr das? - Brakkenburg,}!} [141] ich erkenne Euch nicht mehr: Sonst, wenn vom Vaterland die Rede war, flofi es Euch von dem Herzen und von der Zunge, und Eure Kiihnheit war kaum zu bandigen. - Und jetzt. BRACKENBURG. Gebt mir meine alte Hoffnungen wieder, und ich werde wieder der Alte seyn - Was kiimmert mich die allgemeine Noth? Ihr wil?t am besten -111 {Ich erkenne Euch nicht mehr.} KLARCHEN. Mufi ich, das Madchen, Euch erinnern, was Ihr dem Vaterlande, was Ihr Euch selber schuldig seyd? Was kanns hel=[i4i]fen, dafi Helden wie der Oranien - wie Graf Egmont fiir unsre Freyheit sich ritterlich wehren, wenn Ihnen der Burger nicht die Hand dazu bietet — nicht den Arm dazu leihen will? O, warum bin ich kein Mann, da£ ich ihren Fahnen folgen, ihren Ruhm, ihre Gefahren mit Ihnen theilen konnte!"3 BRACKENBURG. Klarchen, Ihr wifit, was ein Winck von Euch aus mir machen kann. Sprecht nur ein Wort - ein Wort wie ehemals - und Ihr sollt sehen, was ich vermag, was ich unternehme."4 [143] KLARCHEN. Seht Brackenburg, ich mochte Euch aufwecken - Euch beschaftigen — mochte Euch so gern Euch selbst wiedergeben. Was wollt Ihr hier?

63

Egmont. Em Trauerspiel in drey Aufeiigen

Warum, da alles um Euch her in Bewegung ist, miifiige — verlohrne Stunden hier verbringen? — Gewinnt es iiber Euch! Ermannet Euch! Und hort — erscheint nie wider so vor mir - so nie wieder - Es ist heraus, was mich langst auf dem Herzen driickte - Hort Ihr! - Ihr hort nicht -"5 Was habt Ihr? Was wol Ihr mit diesem Flaschchen? Er hat tiefiinnig zugehort, und in Gedanken eine [144] Phiole aus der Tasche gezogen. Er besinnt sich und will sie verbergen, Kldrchen ist rascher, und reifit sie ihm weg. Nach einem bedeutungsvollen Stillschweigen Brackenburg! Ihr konnt mit dem Tode spielen? BRACKENBURG. Wie Ihr mit mir. nach einer Pause weicher — Also ist es doch wahr? Es ist,"6 Klarchen? KLARCHEN. Was habt Ihr? Sammelt Euch - Ich muK fort. Meine Mutter ruft. willgehen BRACKENBURG. Ist's moglich? So konnt Ihr von mir [145] scheiden? Ohne ein freundliches Wort der Hoffnung? Ohne mir zu sagen, dafi ich wiederkommen soil? KLARCHEN. Fafit Euch! Ihr sollt wiederkommen - oft - aber auf die Phiole zeigendso etwas nicht mehr, wenn Ihr mich wieder sehen wollt. geht ab Scene 6. BRACKENBURG allein in grower BewegungSit hat Recht! Sie erkennt mich nicht mehr — ich erkenne mich selbst nicht mehr - aber von Ihr sollte ich diesen Vbrwurf nicht horen! - [146] Ungliicklicher! So wenig riihrt dich der Jammer - die immer wachsende Nodi deines Vaterlandes, und gleich ist dir Landsmann oder Spanier, und wer regiert und wer recht hat? -1'7 War ich doch ein anderer Junge als Schulknabe! - Wenn da ein Exerzitium aufgegeben war: "Brutus' Rede fur das Vaterland!118 zur Ubung der Redekunst;" dann war doch immer Fritz der Erste, und der Rektor sagte: wenn's nur ordentlicher ware, mir nicht alles so iibereinander gestolpert. —"9 damals kocht es und [147] trieblzo - Jetzt schlepp ich {Ich schlepp} mich an den Augen des Madchens so hin. Kann ich sie doch nicht lassen. Kann sie mich doch nicht lieben. - Nicht ganz - und halb und nichts! - Ich dulde es nicht langer!121 Sollte es wahr seyn, was mir ein Freund neulich ins Ohr sagte? Dal? sie abends einen Mann heimlich zu sich einlafit, da sie mich zuchtig immer vor Abend aus dem Hause treibt. Nein, es ist nicht wahr, es ist eine Luge, eine schandliche verIaumderi=[i48]sche Luge, Klarchen ist so unschuldig, als ich ungliicklich bin. Sie hat mich verworfen, hat mich von ihrem Herzen gestofien - und ich soil so fort leben? Ich duld', ich duld' es nicht. - Schon wird mein Vaterland von innerm Zwiste heftiger bewegt, und ich sterbe unter dem Getiimmel nur ab! Ich duld es nicht! - Wenn die Trompete klingt, ein Schufi fallt, mir fahrts durch Mark und Bein! Ach! es reitzt nich nicht! es fordert mich nicht, auch mit einzugreifen, mit zu retten, zu wagen - Elender schimpflicher Zustand. Es ist besser, ich end' auf einmal. [149] Neulich stiirzt' ich mich ins Wasser, ich sank - aber die geangstigte

64

Images of Goethe through Schiller's Egmont

Natur war starker; ich fuhlte, dafi ich schwimmen konnte, und rettete mich wider willen.111 — Konnt ich der Zeiten vergessen, da sie mich liebte, mich zu lieben schien! — Warum hat mirs Mark und Bein durchdrungen, das Gliick? Und jener erste Kufi! Jener einzige! - Hier die Handauf den Tisch legendhier waren wir allein - sie war immer gut undfreundlichgegen mich gewesen - da schien sie sich zu e weichen — sie sah mich an — alle Sinne gingen mir um, und ich fuhlte ihre Lippen auf [150] den meinigen. - Und - und nun? - Sie kommt zuriick - Sie darf mi hier nicht wieder finden.12' geht scbnell ah Scene 7^ Kldrchen. Ihre Mutter.™*1 MUTTER. So eine Liebe wie Brackenburgs habe ich nie gesehen. Ich glaubte, sie sey nur in Heldengeschichten. KLARCHEN. setzt sich wieder an den Tisch, und nimmt eine Arbeit vor: Lied™6 MUTTER, setzt sich zu ikrEr vermuthet deinen [151] Umgang mit Egmont, und ich glaube, wenn du ihm ein wenig freundlich thatest — KLARCHEN. Ich hatte ihn gern und will ihn auch noch wohl in der Seele. Ich hatte ihn heurathen konnen, ware versorgt, und hatte ein ruhiges Leben. MUTTER. Das ist nun alles durch deine Schuld verscherzt. KLARCHEN. Ich bin in einer wunderlichen Lage. Wenn ich so nachdenke, wie es gegangen ist, weiS ichs wohl, und weiG es [152.] nicht. Und dann darf ich Egmont nur wieder ansehen, wird mir alles sehr begreiflich. Ach, was ist's fur ein Mann! alle Provinzen bethen ihn an, und ich in seinem Arm sollte nicht das gliicklichste Geschopf von der Welt seyn? MUTTER. Wie wird's in der Zukunft warden? KLARCHEN. Ach, ich frage nur, ob er mich liebt; und obli7 er mich liebt? ist das eine Frage?118 MUTTER. Man hat nichts als Herzensangst mit seinen Kindern. Wie das ausgehen [153] wird. Immer Sorge und Kummer! Es geht nicht gut aus! Du hast dich ungliicklich gemacht! mich ungliicklich gemacht! KLARCHEN. gelassen Ihr liefiet es doch im Anfange. MUTTER. Leider war ich zu gut, bin immer zu gut.IZ9 KLARCHEN. Wenn Egmont vorbeyritt und ich ans Fenster lief, schaltet Ihr mich da? Tratet Ihr nicht selbst ans Fenster? Wenn er herauf sah, lachelte, nickte, [154] mich griifite, war es Euch zuwider? Fandet Ihr Euch nicht selbst in Eurem Tochter geehrt? MUTTER. Mache mir noch Vorwiirfe! KLARCHEN. geruhrt'Wenn er nun ofter die Strafie karn, und wir wohl fiihlten, dafi er um meinetwillen den Weg machte, bemerktet Ihr's nicht selbst mit heimlicher Freude? Rieft Ihr mich ab, wenn ich hinter den Scheiben stand und ihn erwartete?130

65

Egmont. Ein Trauerspiel in drey Aujzugen

MUTTER. Dachte ich, dafi es so weit kommen [155] sollte? KLARCHEN. mit stockender Stimme und zuriickgehaltenen Thranen Und wie er uns Abends, in den Mantel eingehiillt, bey der Lampe iiberraschte, wer war geschaftig, ihn zu empfangen; da ich auf meinem Stuhl wie angekettet und staunend sitzen blieb? MUTTER. Und konnte ich furchten, daS diese ungliickliche Liebe das kluge Klarchen so bald hinreifien wiirde. Ich muf? es nun tragen, daf? meine Tochter KLARCHEN. mit ausbrechenden Thranen Mutter! [156] Ihr wollt nun! Ihr habt Eure Freude, mich zu angstigen. MUTTER, weinend Weine noch gar! mache mich noch elender durch deine Betriibnifi. 1st mir's nicht Kummer genug, dal? meine einzige Tochter ein verworfenes Geschopf ist? KLARCHEN. iiufitehend und ka.lt Verworfen! Egmonts Geliebte, verworfen? Welche Fiirstin neidete nicht das arme BGarchen um den Platz an seinem Herzen! O Mutter! - meine Mutter, so redetet Ihr sonst nicht. Liebe Mutter, seyd gut! - Das Volck, was das denkt, [157] die Nachbarn, was die murmeln - diese Stube, dieses kleine Haus ist ein Himmel, seit Egmonts Liebe drinn wohnt. MUTTER. Man mul? ihm hold seyn! das ist wahr. Er ist immer so freundlich, frey und offen. KLARCHEN. Es ist keine falsche Ader an ihm. Seht, Mutter, und er ist doch der gro6e Egmont. Und wenn er zu mir kommt, wie er so lieb ist, so gut! wie er mir seinen Stand, seine Tapferkeit gerne verbarge! wie er um mich besorgt ist! so nur Mensch, nur Freund und [158] Liebster. MUTTER. Kommt er wohl heute? KLARCHEN. Habt Ihr mich nicht oft ans Fenster gehen sehen? Habt Ihr nicht bemerckt, wie ich horche, wenn's an der Thiir rauscht? - Ob ich schon weiK, dafi er vor Abend nicht kommt, vermuth' ich ihn doch jeden Augenblick, von Morgens an, wenn ich aufstehe. War ich nur ein Bube und konnte immer mit ihm gehen, zu Hofe und uberall bin! Konnt ihm die Fahne nachtragen in [159] der Schlacht! zweytes Lied131

MUTTER. Du hast doch nichts im Kopfe als deine Liebe. Vergafiest du nur nicht alles iiber das Eine. Den Brackenburg solltest du in Ehren halten. Er kann dich noch einmal gliicklich machen. KLARCHEN. Er? MUTTER. O ja! kommt eine Zeit! - Ihr Kinder seht nichts voraus, und iiberhorcht unsre Erfahrungen. Die Jugend und die schone Liebe, alles hat sein Ende, [160] und es kommt eine Zeit, wo man Gott dankt, wenn man irgend wo unterkommen kann. KLARCHEN. schandert, schweigt und fdhrt auf Mutter, lafk die Zeit kommen, wie den Tod. Dran vorzudenken ist schreckhaft! - Und wenn er kommt? wenn wir miissen - dann - wollen wir uns geberden wie wir konnen - Egmont, ic dich entbehren! in Thranen Nein, es ist nicht moglich, nicht moglich!

66

Images of Goethe through Schiller's Egmont

Scene 8. Egmont. Vorige. [161] EGMONT. In einem Reitermantel, den Huth ins GesichtgedrucktKlaichenl KLARCHEN . thut eiwn Schrey, fdhrt zuruck Egmont! sie eilt aufihn zu Egmont! sie umarmtihn undruhtan ihm O du guter, lieber, siifier! Kommst du? bist du da? EGMONT. Guten Abend Mutter! MUTTER. Gott griifi Euch edler Herr! meine Kleine ist fast vergangen, dafi ihr so lang ausbleibt; sie hat wieder den [162] ganzen Tag von Euch geredet und gesungen. EGMONT. Ihr gebt mir doch ein Nachtessen? MUTTER. Zuviel Gnade. Wenn wir nur etwas hatten. KLARCHEN. Freylich! Seyd nur ruhig Mutter; ich habe schon alles darauf eingerichtet, ich habe etwas zubereitet. Verachtet1*1 {Verrathet} mich nicht, Mutter. MUTTER. Schmal genug. KLARCHEN. Wartet nur! und dann denk ich: wenn [163] er bey mir ist, hab' ich gar keinen Hunger; da soilte er auch keinen grofien Apetit haben, wenn ich bey ihm bin. EGMONT. Meynst du? KLARCHEN. stampft mit dem Fufle undkehrt sich unwillig um EGMONT. Wie ist dir? KLARCHEN. Wie seyd Ihr heute so kalt! Ihr habt mir noch keinen Kufi angebothen. Warum habt Ihr die Arme in den Mantel gewickelt wie ein Wochenkind? [164] ziemt keinem Soldaten noch Liebhaber, die Arme eingewickelt zu haben. EGMONT. Zu Zeiten, Liebchen, zu Zeiten. Wenn der Soldat auf der Lauer steht, und dem Feind etwas ablisten mochte, da nimmt er sich zusammen, fafit sich selbst in seine Arme und kaut seinen Anschlag reif. Und ein Liebhaber MUTTER. Wollt Ihr Euch nicht setzen? Es Euch nicht bequem machen? Ich mufi in die Kiiche; Klarchen denkt an nichts, wenn Ihr da seyd. Ihr miifit fur lieb nehmen. EGMONT. Euer guter Wille ist die beste Wiirze. [165] Mutter gehtab. Scene 9. Egmont. Klarchen. KLARCHEN. Und was ware denn meine Liebe? EGMONT. So viel du willst. KLARCHEN. Vergleicht sie, wenn Ihr das Herz habt.

67

Egmont. Ein Trauerspiel in drey Aufeiigen

EGMONT. Zuforderst also. Er wirft den Mantel ab und steht in einem prdchtigen Kleideda. [166] KLARCHEN. O je! EGMONT. Nun hab' ich die Arme frey. Er herztsie. KLARCHEN. Lafit! Ihr verderbt Euch. Sie trittzurtick. Wie prachtig! da darf ich Euch nicht anriihren. EGMONT. Bist du zufrieden? Ich versprach dir, einmal spanisch zu kommen. KLARCHEN. Ich bath Euch zeither nicht mehr darum, [167] ich dachte, Ihr wolltet nicht - Ach und das goldne Vliefi! EGMONT. Da siehst du's nun. KLARCHEN. Das hat dir der Kayser umgehangt? EGMONT. Ja, Kind! und Kette und Zeichen geben dem, der sie tragt, die edelsten Freyheiten. Ich erkenne auf Erden keinen Richter iiber meine Handlungen als den Grofimeister des Ordens mit dem versammelten Kapitel der Ritter. [168] KLARCHEN. O du diirftest die ganze Welt iiber dich richten lassen. - das Zeug ist gar zu herrlich, und die Passement=Arbeit! und das Reiche133 - Man weif? nicht, wo man anfangen soil. EGMONT. Sieh dich nur satt. KLARCHEN. Und das goldne Vliefi! Ihr erzahltet mir die Geschichte und sagtet: es sey ein Zeichen alles Grofien und Kostbaren, was man mit Miih und Fleif? verdient und erwirbt. Es ist sehr [169] kostbar — Ich kanns deiner Liebe vergleichen - Ich trage sie eben so am Herzen - und hernach EGMONT. Was willst du sagen? KLARCHEN. Hernach vergleicht sich's wieder nicht. EGMONT. Wie so? KLARCHEN. Ich habe sie nicht mit Miihe und Fleifi erworben, nicht verdient. EGMONT. In der Liebe ist es anders. Du ver=[i7o]dienst sie, weil du nicht darum bewirbst - und die Leute erhalten sie auch meist allein, die nicht darnach jagen. KLARCHEN. Hast du das von dir abgenommen? Hast du diese stolze Anmerckung iiber dich selbst gemacht. Du, den alles Volck liebt? EGMONT. Hatt' ich mir etwas far sie gethan! Konnt' ich etwas fur sie thun! - Es ist Ihr guter Wille, mich zu lieben. KLARCHEN. Lai? mich dich halten. Laf? mich dir [171] in die Augen sehen; alles darinn finden, Trost und Hoffhung und Freude und Kummer sie umarmt ihn undsiehtihn an Sag' mir! sage! ich begreife nicht! bist du Egmont? Der Graf Egmont. Der grofie Egmont, der so viel Aufsehen macht, von dem in den Zeitungen steht, an dem die Provinzen hangen?134 EGMONT. Nein, Klarchen, das bin ich nicht. KLARCHEN. Wie?

EGMONT. Siehst du, Klarchen! - Lai? mich sitzen! - [172] Er setzt sich, sie kniet vor ihm auf einem Schemel, legt ihreArme auf semen Schoos undsieht ihn anjener Egmont ist ein verdriefilicher kaltet Egmont, der an sich halten, bald dieses bald

68 Images of Goethe through Schiller's Egmont jenes Gesicht machen mufi; geplagt, verkannt, verwickelt ist, wenn ihn die Leute fiiir froh und frohlich halten; geliebt von einem Volcke, daE nicht weif? was es will; geehrt und in die Hohe getragen, von einer Menge, mit der nichts anzufangen ist; umgeben von Freunden, denen er sich nicht iiberlassen darf; beobachtet [173] von Menschen, die ihm auf alle Weise beykommen mogten; arbeitend und sich bemiihend, oft ohne Zweck, meist ohne Lohn135 - o lafi mich schweigen, wie es dem ergeht, wie dem zu Muthe ist. Aber dieser, Klarchen, der ist ruhig, offen, gliicklich, geliebt und gekannt, von dem besten Herzen, das auch er ganz kennt und mit voller Liebe und Zutrauen an das seine driickt. Er umarmt sie. Das ist dein Egmont! KLARCHEN. So lafi mich sterben! Die Welt hat keine Freuden auf diese.1'6 [174] Scene w^1 Egmont. Klarchen. Richard. RICHARD. Werdet nicht ungehalten Herr, dafi ich noch so spat, dafi ich an diesem Orte Euch beunruhige — So eben schickte der Statthalter — Ihr seyd auf Morgenfruh zu ihm gefordert. KLARCHEN. Zu dem spanischen Herzog - Ach Gott. EGMONT. Auf Morgen - Warum sagst du mir das noch heute? RICHARD. Vergebt - Ich glaubte - es konnte [175] seyn - Ihr mochtet Vorberei tungen zu treffen haben. EGMONT. Vorbereitungen? RICHARD. Der Herzog laSt Euch fordern - der Herzog von Alba EGMONT. Nun! was denn weiter? - Er wird den Staatsrath versammeln - er wird uns des Konigs Willen bekannt machen — den ich nicht spat genug vernehmen kann. RICHARD. beunruhigtWenn es nur das ware [176] KLARCHEN. Gott im Himmel! EGMONT. Was sollte es sonst seyn - Verlafi uns Traumer - Sieh, wie du mir di Kleine erschreckt hast. KLARCHEN. zu EgmontHot ihn - ich bitte dich - Hor' ihn. RICHARD. Wir haben die ganze Nacht zu unserm Vortheil - Entschliefit Euch - Alle Eure Diener sind bereit - Ihr konnt Antwerpen erreicht haben, ehe ma Euch hier vermifit. [177] EGMONT. Fliehen soil ich? - Bist du bey Sinnen? - Fliehen - vor we? und weswegcn? RICHARD, mit BedeutungWeil der Oranier - weil alles, was sich selbst liebt, geflohen ist. KLARCHEN. Der Oranier geflohen - und davon sagtest du mir nichts - O ge wiK! da ist alles zu befurchten.1'8

69

Egmont. Bin Trauerspielin drey Aujzugen

EGMONT. Oranien ist nach seiner Provinz, wohin sein Amt ihn rief- das meinige befiehlt mir, hier zu bleiben — [178] hier — wo auch mein Herz ist und meine Liebe. sie umarmend RICHARD, dringender einfallendUnd ein gewisser Tod, wenn Ihr verwegen und allein Euch in des Tigers Hohle stiirzt KLARCHEN. Ach nein! Nein, du mufit fort - du muf?t! Wo sich Oranien mit seiner List nicht sicher weifi, bist du mit deiner Redlichkeit verlohren.139 EGMONT. Bedenke was du sprichtst! Vor diesem Alba soil ich mich erkriechen, durch [179] meine Flucht des Stolzen Obermuth noch mehren? Und meine Klara ist's, die mir dies rath? O denke nicht so klein von deinem Egmont! Ich bleibe - werde horen, was er will! Klarchen umarmendLiebchen, lebe wohl! Auf wieder sehen fur morgen. will gehert*0 KLARCHEN. Fur Morgen - Ach sie zittert und willsinken EGMONT. Was ist dir? - Fasse dich. KLARCHEN. sinkt ihm an die Brust Ich weift es [180] nicht. - Mir ist so bang so schwer, als ob ich dich - zum letzten mal EGMONT. unwilligzu Richard Mit deiner albernen Besorgnifi! - Komm zu dir, Liebe! Sieh, dein Egmont lebt, - wird leben, was die Tyranney auch spinnt. Des Volckes Liebe — meine gute Sache, verbiirgen jedes Haar auf meinem Haupt — Sieh da die Mutter Scene n. Vorige. Kldrchens Mutter.

MUTTER. Klarchen! Gott! was giebts? [181] EGMONT. Beruhige sie Mutter! - Richard, komm! geht KLARCHEN. ruft ihm nach Egmont! EGMONT. Klarchen! kehrt noch einmal zuruck, umarmt sie, dann beyde aufverschiedene Seiten ab141 Scene 12^ Zimmer in einem Pallast mit zwey Thiiren versehen Silva. Gomez begegnen einander

SILVA. Hast du die Befehle des Herzogs aus=[i82]gerichtet? GOMEZ. Piinktlich. Alle tagliche Runden sind beordert, zur bestimmten Zeit an verschiedenen Platzen einzutrefren, die ich ihnen bezeichnet habe; sie

jo

Images of Goethe through Schiller's Egmont

gehen indefi, wie gewohnlich durch die Nacht, um Ordnung zu erhalten. Keiner wei6 von dem andern; jeder glaubt, der Befehl gehe ihn allein an, und in einem Augenblick kann alsdann der Kordon gezogen, und alle Zugange zum Pallast konnen besetzt seyn.143 Weiftt du die Ursache dieses Befehls? [183] SILVA. Ich bin gewohnt, blindlings zu gehorchen. Und wem gehorcht sichs leichter als dem Herzoge? Da bald der Ausgang beweifit, dafi er recht befohlen hat. GOMEZ.144 Gut! gut! Auch scheint es mir kein Wunder, dafi du so verschlossen und einsylbig wirst wie er, da du immer um ihn seyn mufit. Mir kommt es fremde vor, da ich den leichteren italianischen Dienst gewohnt bin. An Treue und Gehorsam bin ich der Alte; aber ich habe mir das Schwatzen und Raisonniren angewohnt. Ihr schweigt [184] alle und lafit es Euch wohl seyn. Der Herzog gleicht mir einem ehrnen Thurm ohn Pforte, wozu die Besatzung Fliigel hatte. Neulich hort ich ihn bey Tafel von einem frohen freundlichen Menschen sagen: er sey wie eine schlechte Schenke mit einem ausgesteckten Brandweinzeichen, um MiiKigganger, Bettler und Diebe hereinzulocken. SILVA.I45 Und hat er uns nicht schweigend hieher gefiihrt? GOMEZ. Dagegen ist nichts zu sagen. GewiK! [185] Wer Zeuge seiner Klugheit war, wie er die Armee aus Italien hieherbrachte, der hat etwas gesehen. Wie er sich durch Freund und Feind, durch die Franzosen und Schweizer gleichsam durchschmiegte, die strengste Mannszucht hielt, und einen Zug, den man so gefahrlich glaubte, leicht und ohne Anstofi zu leiten wufite! - Wir haben was gesehen, was lernen konnen. SILVA. Auch hier! ist nicht alles still und ruhig, als wenn kein Aufstand gewesen ware? GOMEZ. Nun, es war auch schon meist still [186] als wir herkamen. SILVA. In der Provinz ist es viel ruhiger geworden; und wenn sich noch einer bewegt, so ist es um zu entfliehen. Aber auch diesem wird er die Wege bald versperren, denk ich. Scene 13.

Ferdinand. Vorige.146

FERDINAND. 1st mein Vater noch nicht heraus? SILVA. Wir warten auf ihn. FERDINAND. Die Fursten werden bald hier seyn. [187] GOMEZ. Kommen sie heute? FERDINAND. Oranien und Egmont. GOMEZ, leise zu Silva Ich begreife etwas. SILVA. So behalt' es fur dich.

7i

Egmont. Ein Trauerspielin drey Aujzugen

Scene 14. HerzogAlba. Vorige. Wie er herein und vortritt, treten die andern zuriick. ALBA. Gomez! GOMEZ, tritt hervor Herr! [188] ALBA. Du hast die Wachen vertheilt und beordert? GOMEZ. Aufs genaueste. Die taglichen Runden. ALBA. Genug. Du wartest in der Gallerie. Silva wird dir den Augenblick sagen, wenn du sie zusammen ziehen, die Zugange nach dem Pallaste besetzen sollst. Das iibrige weifo du. GOMEZ. Ja Herr! ab [189] Scene 15. Alba. Silva. ALBA. Silva! SILVA. Hier bin ich. ALBA. Alles was ich von jeher an dir geschatzt habe, Much, Entschlossenheit, unaufhaltsames Ausfuhren, das zeige heut. SILVA. Ich danke Euch, dafi Ihr mir Gelegenheit gebt zu zeigen, dafi ich der Alte bin. ALBA. Du hast alle Anstalten gemacht, die, [190] die ich dir bezeichnet habe, gefangen zu nehmen? SILVA. Vertrau auf uns. Ihr Schicksal wird sie wie eine wohl berechnete Sonnenfinsternifi piinktlich und schrecklich trefFen.147 ALBA. Hast du sie genau beobachten lassen? SILVA. Alle; den Egmont vor andern. Er ist der Einzige, der, seit du hier bist, sein Betragen nicht geandert hat. Den ganzen Tag von einem Pferdt aufs andere, ladet Gaste, ist immer lustig und unterhaltend bey Tafel, wiirfelt, schiefit und [191] schleicht Nachts zum Liebchen.148 Die andern haben dagegen eine merckliche Pause in ihrer Lebensart gemacht; sie bleiben bey sich;149 vor ihren Thiiren sieht's aus als wenn ein Kranker im Hause ware. ALBA. Drum rasch! eh' sie uns wider Willen genesen. SILVA. Ich stelle sie. Auf deinen Befehl iiberhaufen wir sie mit dienstfertigen Ehren. Ihnen graut's; politisch geben sie uns einen angstlichen Dank, fuhlen, das rathlichste sey zu entfliehen. Keiner [192] wagt einen Schritt, sie zaudern, konnen sich nicht vereinigen. Sie mochten gern sich jedem Verdacht entziehen, und machen sich immer verdachtiger. Schon seh ich mit Freuden deinen ganzen Anschlag ausgefuhrt.150

72

Images of Goethe through Schiller's Egmont

ALBA. Ich freue mich nur iiber das Geschehene; und auch iiber das nicht leicht; denn es bleibt stets noch iibrig, was uns zu denken und zu sorgen giebt. Das Gliick ist eigensinnig, oft das Gemeine, das Nichtswiirdige, zu adeln, und wohl iiberlegte Thaten mit einem ge=[i93]meinen Ausgang zu entehren. Verweile bis die Fiirsten kommen; dann gieb Gomez die Ordre, die Strafien zu besetzen, und eile selbst Egmonts Schreiber und die ubrigen gefangen zu nehmen, die dir bezeichnet sind. Ist es gethan, so komm hieher und meld es meinem Sohne, daE er mir in den Rath die Nachricht bringe. SILVA. Ich hoffe, diesen Abend vor dir stehen zu diirfen. ab ALBA. Ich traue es mir nicht zu denken; aber [194] meine Hoffnung schwankt. Ich furchte, es wird nicht werden wie ich wiinsche. Ich sehe Geister vor mir, die still und sinnend auf schwarzen Schalen das Geschick der Fiirsten und vieler Tausenden wagen. Langsam wankt das Ziinglein auf, und, tief scheinen die Richter zu sinnen; zuletzt sinkt diese Schale, steigt jene, angehaucht vom Eigensinn des Schicksals, und entschieden ist's. winkt1^1 Scene 16. Alba. Ferdinand, der hervortritt ALBA. Wie fand'st du die Stadt? [195] FERDINAND. Es hat sich alles gegeben. Ich ritt als wie zum Zeitvertreib, StraK' auf Straf?' ab. Eure wohl vertheilten Wachen halten die Furcht so angespannt, daf? sie sich nicht zu lispeln untersteht. Die Stadt sieht einem Felde ahnlich, wenn das Gewitter von weitem leuchtet; man erblickt keinen Vogel, kein Thier, als das eilend nach einem Schutzorte schlupft. ALBA. Ist dir nichts weiter begegnet? FERDINAND. Egmont kam mit einigen auf den Markt [196] geritten; wir griifiten uns; er hatte ein rohes Pferdt, dal? ich ihm loben mufite. "Lafo uns eilen, Pferdte zuzureiten; wir werden sie bald brauchen!" rief er mir entgegen. Er werde mich noch heute wiedersehen, sagte er und komme auf Euer Verlangen, mit Euch zu rathschlagen. ALBA. Er wird dich wieder sehen. FERDINAND. Unter alien Rittern, die ich hier kenne, gefallt er mir am besten. Es scheint, wir werden Freunde seyn. [197] ALBA. Du bist noch immer so schnell und wenig behutsam, immer erkenn' ich in dir den Leichtsinn deiner Mutter, der mir sie unbedingt in die Arme lieferte. Zu mancher gefahrlichen Verbindung lud dich der Anschein voreilig ein. FERDINAND. Euer Wille findet mich bildsam. ALBA. Ich vergebe deinem jungen Blute dies leichtsinnige Wohlwollen, dies unachtsame Frohlichkeit. Nur vergifi nicht, zu welchem Wercke ich gesandt [198] bin, und welchen Teil ich dir daran geben mochte. FERDINAND. Erinnert mich, und schont mich nicht, wo Ihr's nothig haltet.

73

Egmont. Bin Trauerspiel in drey Aufziigen

ALBA, nach einer Pause Mein Sohn! FERDINAND. Mein Vater! ALBA. Die Fiirsten kommen bald, Oranien und Egmont kommen. Es ist nicht MiEtrauen, da/3 ich dir erst jetzt entdecke, was geschehen soil. Sie wer=[i99]den nicht wieder von hinnen gehen. FERDINAND. Was sinnst du? ALBA. Es ist bechlossen, sie fest zu halten - Nun hore, was zu thun ist. Sobald die Fiirsten eingetreten sind, wird jeder Zugang zum Pallaste besetzt. Dazu hat Gomez die Ordre. Silva wird eilen, Egmonts Schreiber mit den Verdachtigten gefangen zu nehmen. Du besetzest die Zimmer hier neben mit den sichersten Leuten; dann warte auf der Gallerie, bis Silva wieder [200] kommt, und bringe mir irgend ein unbedeutend Blatt herein, zum Zeichen, dafi sein Auftrag ausgerichtet ist. Dann bleib im Vorsaale, bis Oranien weggeht. Am Ende der Gallerie fordere seinen Degen, rufe die Wache an, venvahre schnell den gefahrlichsten Mann; und ich fasse Egmont hier. FERDINAND. Ich gehorche, mein Vater. Zum erstenmal mit schwerem Herzen und mit Sorge. ALBA. Ich verzeihe dir's; es ist der erste [201] groKe Tag, den du erlebst. Scene17. Silva. Vorige. SILVA. Ein Bothe von Antwerpen. Hier ist Oraniens Briefl Er kommt nicht. ALBA. Sagt es der Bothe? SILVA. Nein, mir sagt's das Herz. ALBA. Aus dir spricht mein boser Genius. Nachdem er den Briefgelesen, winkt er beyden und sie ziehen sich in die Gallerie zurtick. Er bleibt alkin auf [202] dem Vordertheile. Er kommt nicht! Bis auf den letzten Augenblick verschiebt er, sich zu erklaren. Er wagt es, nicht zu kommen! So war denn diesmal wider Vermuthen der Kluge klug genug, nicht klug zu seyn! Es riickt die Uhr! Noch einen kleinen Weg des Zeigers, und ein groEes Werck ist gedian oder versaumt: denn es ist weder nachzuhohlen noch zu verheimlichen. - Ist's rathlich, die andern zu fangen, wenn Er mir entgeht? - Schieb' ich es auf, und laE Egmont mit den Seinigen, mit so [203] vielen entschliipfen, die nun, vielleicht nur heute noch in meinen Handen sind. So zwingt dich das Geschick denn auch, du Unbezwinglicher. Wie lange gedacht! wie wohl bereitet! wie grofi, wie schon der Plan! Wie nah die Hofrnung ihrem Ziele! Und nun im Augenblick des Entscheidens bist du zwischen zwey Ubel gestellt, wie in einen Loostopf greifst du in die dunkle Zukunft; was du faEest ist noch zugerollt, dir unbewuEt, seys Treffer oder Fehler! Er wird aufmerksam, wie einer, der etwas hort, und tritt ans Fenster.152 Er ist es! - Egmont! Trug dich dein Pferdt so leicht herein, und scheute vor dem Blutgeruche nicht, und vor dem Geiste mit dem blanken Schwert, der an der Pforte dich empfangt?

74 Images of Goethe through Schiller's Egmont — Steig ab! — So bist du mit dem einen Fufi im Grabe und so mit beyden! — Ja streichl' es nur, und klopfe fur seinen muthigen Dienst zum letzten mal den Nacken ihm. - Und mir bleibt keine Wahl. In der Verblendung, wie hier Egmont naht, kann er mir nicht zum zweyten mal sich liefern! - Hort! Ferdinand undSilva treten eiligherbeyVivt thut, was ich befahl, ich an=[iO4]dre meinen Willen nicht. Ich halte, wie es gehn will, Egmont auf, bis du mir von Silva die Nachricht gebracht hast. Dann bleib' in der Nahe. Auch dir raubt das Geschick das grofie Verdienst, des Konigs grofiten Feind mit eigner Hand gefangen zu haben. zu Silva Eile! zu FerdinandGeh ihm entgegen. Alba bleibt einige Augenblicke allein undgeht schweigend auf und ab^ Scene 18. Egmont. Alba. EGMONT. Ich komme, die Befehle des Konigs zu [206] vernehmen; zu horen, welchen Dienst er von unserer Treue verlangt, die ihm ewig ergeben bleibt. ALBA. Er wiinscht vor alien Dingen Euern Rath zu horen. EGMONT. Uber welchen Gegenstand? Kommt Oranien auch? Ich vermudiete ihn hier. ALBA. Mir thut es leid, dal? er uns eben in dieser wichtigen Stunde fehlt. Euern Rath, cure Meynung wiinscht der Konig, wie diese Staaten wider zu befriedigen. [207] Ja er hofft, ihr werdet kraftig mitwircken, diese Unruhen zu stillen, und die Ordnung der Provinzen vollig und dauerhaft zu griinden. EGMONT. Ihr konnt besser wissen als ich, dafi schon alles genug beruhiget ist, ja noch mehr beruhigt war, eh' die Erscheinung der neuen Soldaten wieder mit Furcht und Sorge die Gemiither bewegte.'54 ALBA. Ihr scheint andeuten zu wollen, das rathlichste sey gewesen, wenn der Konig mich gar nicht in den Fall gesetzt hatte, Euch zu fragen. [208] EGMONT. Verzeiht! Ob der Konig das Heer hatte schicken sollen, ob nicht vielmehr die Macht seiner majestatischen Gegenwart allein starcker gewirckt hatte, ist meine Sache nicht zu beurtheilen. Das Heer ist da, Er nicht. Wir aber miifiten sehr undanckbar, sehr vergessen seyn, wenn wir uns nicht erinnerten, was wir der Regentin schuldig sind. Bekennen wir! sie brachte durch ihr so kluges als tapferes Betragen Aufrtihrer zur Ruhe, und fiihrte zum Erstaunen der Welt ein rebellisches Volck in wenig Monaten zu seiner Pflicht [209] zuriick. ALBA. Ich laugne es nicht. Der Tumult ist gestillt, und jeder scheint in die Grenzen des Gehorsams zuriickgebannt. Aber hangt es nicht von eines jeden Willkuhr ab, sie zu verlassen? Wer will das Volck hindern loszubrechen? Wer biirgt uns, dal? sie sich ferner treu und unterthanig zeigen werden? Ihr guter Wille ist alles Pfand, das wir haben.

75

Egmont. Ein Trauerspiel in drey Aufzugen

EGMONT. Und ist der gute Wille eines Volcks nicht ein sicheres edles Pfand? Bey Gott! [210] Wann darf sich ein Konig sicherer halten, als wenn sie alle fiir Einen, Einer fiir alle stehn? {Sicherer gegen innere und aufiere Feinde?155} ALBA. Wir werden uns doch nicht iiberreden sollen, dafi es jetzt in den Niederlanden so steht? EGMONT. Der Konig schreibe einen General-Pardon aus, er beruhige die Gemiither; und bald wird man sehen, wie Treue und Liebe mit dem Zutrauen wieder zuriickkehrt. ALBA. Und jeder, der die Majestat des Konigs, [211] der das Heiligthum der Religion geschandet, ginge frey und ledig hin und wieder! Lebte dem Andern zum bereiten1'6 {breiten} Beyspiel, daf? ungeheuer Verbrechen straflos sind! Ungestraft soil, wenn ich rathe, kein Schuldiger sich freuen. EGMONT. Glaubst du, daE du sie alle erreichen wirst? Hort man nicht taglich, dafi die Furcht sie aus dem Lande treibt! Die Reichsten werden ihre Giiter, sich, ihre Kinder und Freunde fluchten; der Arme wird seine niitzliche Hande dem Nachbar zubringen.157 [212] ALBA. Sie werden, wenn man sie nicht verhindern kann. Darum verlangt der Konig Rath und That von jedem Fiirsten, Ernst von jedem Statthalter, nicht nur Erzahlung wie es ist, was werden konnte, wenn man alles gehen lieKe, wie es geht. Einem groEen Ubel zusehen, sich mit Hoffhungen schmeicheln, der Zeit vertrauen, etwa einmal drein schlagen wie im Fastnachtsspiel, daf? es klatscht, und man doch etwas zu thun scheint, wenn man nichts thun mogte;158 heifit das nicht, sich verdachtig machen, als sehe [213] man den Aufruhr mit Vergniigen zu, den man nicht erregen, wohl aber hegen mogte? EGMONT. im Begriff aujzufahren, nimmt sich zusammen, und spricht nach einer kleinen Pause, gesetzt. Nicht jede Absicht ist ofFenbar, und manches Mannes Absicht ist zu miRdeuten. Mufi man doch auch von alien Seiten horen; es sey die spanische Absicht weniger, die Provinzen nach einformigen und klaren Gesetzen zu regieren, {die Majestat der Religion zu sichern und einen allgemeinen Frieden seinem Volcke zu geben'59} als vielmehr, sie unbedingt zu unterjochen, sie ihrer alten Rechte zu berauben, sich Meister [214] von ihren Besitzdiiimern zu machen, die schonen Rechte des Adels einzuschranken, um derentwillen der Edle allein dem Konig Leib und Leben widmen mag. Die Religion, sagt man, sey nur ein prachtiger Teppich, hinter dem man jeden gefahrlichen Anschlag nur desto leichter ausdenkt. Das Volck liegt auf den Knien, bethet die heiligen gewirckten Zeichen an, und hinten lauscht der Vogelsteller, der sie beriicken will.160 ALBA. Das mu6 ich von dir horen? EGMONT. Nicht meine Gesinnungen! Nur was [215] bald hier, bald da, von Grof?en und von Kleinen, Klugen und Thoren gesprochen, laut verbreitet wird. Die Niederlander furchten ein doppeltes Joch, und wer burgt ihnen fur ihre Freyheit? ALBA. Freyheit! ein schones Wort, wer's recht verstande. Was wollen sie fiir Freyheit? - Was ist des Freysten Freyheit? Recht zu thun - und daran wird sie der Konig nicht hindern. Nein! Nein! Sie glauben sich nicht frey, wenn sie sich

j6

Images of Goethe through Schiller's Egmont

nicht selbst und andern schaden konnen. Ware es nicht besser abzudanken, als ein solches Volck zu regieren? [216] Weit besser ist's, sie einzuengen, dafi man sie wie Kinder halten, wie Kinder zu ihrem Besten leiten kann. EGMONT. {Wie selten kommt ein Konig zu Verstand.161} Man thue, was man will; ich habe auf deine Frage geantwortet, und wiederhohle: Es gent nicht! Es kann nicht gehen! ich kenne meine Landsleute. Es sind Manner, werth, Gottes Boden zu betreten; ein jeder rund fur sich ein kleiner Konig, fest, riihrig, fahig, treu, an alten Sitten hangend. Schwer ist's, ihr Zutrauen zu verdienen; leicht, zu erhalten. Starr und fest! zu driicken sind sie, nicht zu unterdriicken. ALBA. [217] der sich indefl einigemal umgesehen hat. Solltest du das alles in des Konigs Gegenwart wiederhohlen? EGMONT. {Desto schlimmer, wenn mich seine Gegenwart abschreckte, desto besser161} Gut"53 fur ihn, fur sein Volck, wenn er mir Muth machte, noch mehr zu sagen.164 ALBA. Wie du gesinnt bist, scheint es ein vergeblicher Versuch, uns vereinigen zu wollen. Du denkst gering von dem Konige und verachtlich von seinen Rathen, wenn du zweifelst, dai? alles sey nicht schon gedacht, gepriift, gewogen worden. Ich habe keinen Auftrag, jedes Fur und Wider noch einmal [218] durch zu gehen. Gehorsam fordre ich von dem Volcke - und von Euch, ihr Ersten, Edelsten, Rath und That als Biirgen dieser unbedingten Pflicht. EGMONT. Fordre unsre Haupter; so ist es auf einmal gethan. Ob sich der Nakken diesem Joche biegen, ob er sich vor dem Beile ducken soil, kann einer edlen Seele gleich seyn. Umsonst hab' ich gesprochen; die Luft hab' ich erschiittert, weiter nichts gewonnen. Scene ij>. Ferdinand. Vorige. [219] FERDINAND. Verzeiht, dafi ich Euer Gesprach unterbreche. Hier ist ein Brief, dessen Uberbringer die Antwort dringend macht. ALBA. Erlaubt mir, dafi ich sehe, was er enthalt. Tritt auf die Seite. FERDINAND, zu EgmontEs ist ein schones Pferdt, was Eure Leute gebracht haben, Euch abzuholen. EGMONT. Es ist nicht das schlimmste. Ich hab' es schon eine Weile; ich denk', es weg zu geben. Wenn es Euch gefallt, [220] so werden wir vielleicht des Handels einig. FERDINAND. Gut, wir wollen sehen. ALBA, winkt seinem Sohn, der sich in den Grund zuriick zieht.16^ EGMONT. Lebt wohl! entlafit mich: denn ich wiifite, bey Gott! nicht mehr zu sagen. ALBA. Gliicklich hat dich der Zufall verhindert, deinen Sinn noch mehr zu verrathen. Unvorsichtig entwickelst du die Falten [221] deines Herzens,

77

Egmont. Em Trauerspiel in drey Aujziigen

und klagst dich selbst weit strenger an, als ein Widersacher gehafiig thun konnte.166 EGMONT. Dieser Vorwurf riihrt mich nicht; ich kenne mich selbst genug, und weifi, wie ich dem Konig angehore; weit mehr als viele, die in seinem Dienst sich selber dienen. Ungern scheid ich aus diesem Streite, ohne ihn beygelegt zu sehen, und wiinsche nur, dafi uns der Dienst des Herrn, das wohl des Landes bald vereinigen moge. Es wirckt vielleicht ein wiederhohltes Gesprach, die Gegenwart der iibrigen Fiirsten, die [222] heute fehlen, in einem gliicklichen Augenblick, was heut unmoglich scheint.lfiy Mit dieser Hoffnung entfern' ich mich. ALBA, derzugleich seinem Sohn ein Zeichen giebt. Halt Egmont! - Deinen Degen! EGMONT. der staunend eine Weilegeschwiegen. Diefi war die Absicht? Dazu hast du mich berufen? Nach dem Degen greifend, als wenn er sich vertheidigen wollte, Bin ich denn wehrlos? ALBA. Der Konig befiehlts, du bist mein Gefangener. zugleich treten [223] Scene 20. Soldaten von beyden Seiten herein Vorige. EGMONT. nach einer Stifle Der Konig? - Oranien! Oranien! nach einer Pause seinen Degen hin reichendSo nimm ihn! Er hat weit ofters des Konigs Sache vertheidigt, als diese Brust beschiitzt. Er geht durch die Mittelthiir ab: die Soldaten folgen ihm, im glekhen Albas Sofm.'68 Scene 21. Strafe: Ddmmerung Brackenburg allein. So ist es denn gewifi, was ich gefurchtet! - [224] Sie liebt ihn! - ihn! - Ich b ihr nichts! — die Angst um ihn entrifi ihr heute das Geheimnifi. — Graf Egmont ist der einzige Theure, der Begliickte! - Und ich - kann ich die Ungetreue hassen — ihr entsagen? Ach! — nein — ich kann — ich kann es nicht! — Unruhvoll verlief? sie diesen Morgen ihre Wohnung. Von feme folgt ich ihr, es trieb sie nach dem Schlosse, zu sehen, was mit Egmont wiirde, zu warten, bis er gerettet wieder kehrte! — Ungliickliche, er kehrt nicht mehr zuriick! ich wei6, daE er gefangen ist - Auch Richard, [225] sein geheimer Schreiber, ist's; ich selbst sah ihn gefangen fort gefuhrt! - Was wird ihr Schicksal seyn! - Horch! ist das nicht - Gott! das ist ihre Stimme!169

78 Images of Goethe through Schiller's Egmont Scene 22.^° Kldrchen, begleitet von Zimmermeister und noch zwey andern Biirgern. Brackenburg. KLARCHEN. spricht die ersten Worte noch aufierhalb der Szene Don fuhrten sie ihn hin - Kommt nur! wir hohlen ihn noch ein - befreyen ihn! - Ruft nur ge schwind die Burger aus den Hausern. [226] ZIMMERMEISTER. Was kommt dem Madchen ein? Was will sie? Von wem spricht sie? BRACKENBURG. Liebchen, um Gotteswillen, was nimmst du vor? KLARCHEN. 171 Komm mit, Brackenburg! {wir miissen ihn befreyen!} Du mufit die Menschen nicht kennen; wir befreyen ihn gewifi. Denn was gleicht ihrer Liebe zu ihm? Jeder fuhlt, ich schwore es, in sich die brennendste Begier, ihn zu retten, dem Freysten die Freyheit wieder zu geben. Komm! es fehlt nur an der Stimme, die sie zu=[227]sammenruft. In ihrer Seele lebt noch ganz frisch, was sie ihm schuldig sind! Um seinetwillen, um ihrentwillen miissen sie alles wagen. Und was wagen wir? Zum Hochsten unser Leben, das zu erhahen nicht der Miihe werth ist, wenn er umkommt. BRACKENBURG. Ungliickliche! Du siehst nicht die Gewalt, die uns mit ihren Banden gefesselt hat. KLARCHEN. Sie scheint mir nicht uniiberwindlich. Lafi uns nicht lang vergebliche Worte wechseln. Hier kommen von den alien17* {noch} [228] redlichen wakkern Mannern! Hort! Freunde! Nachbarn, hort! - Sagt, wie ist es mit Egmont? Scene 23. Vorige. Jetter. Soest. {2 Biirger.}17^ ZIMMERMEISTER. 174 {Soest.} Was will das Kind? Lafi sie schweigen! KLARCHEN. Tretet naher, dal? wir sachte werden, bis wir einig sind und starker. Wir diirfen nicht einen Augenblick versaumen! Die freche Tyranney, die es wagt, ihn zu fesseln, zuckt schon den Dolch, ihn zu ermorden. O Freunde! [229] mit jedem Schritt der Dammerung werd' ich angstlich. Ich fiirchte diese Nacht. Kommt! wir wollen uns theilen; mit schnellem Lauf von Quartier zu Quartier rufen wir die Burger heraus. Ein jeder greife zu seinen alien Waffen. Auf dem Markte treffen wir uns wieder, und unser Strom reifit einen jeden mit sich fort. Die Feinde sehen sich umringt und uberschwemmt, und sind erdriickt. Was kann uns eine Handvoll Knechte widerstehen? Und er in unserer Mitte kehrt zuriick, sieht sich befreyt, und [230] kann uns einmal danken, uns, die wir ihm so tief verschuldet worden. Er sieht vielleicht - gewifi er sieht das Morgenroth am freyen Himmel wieder. ZIMMERMEISTER. Was ist dir Madchen? JETTER.175 {Soest.} Von wem ist denn die Rede?

79

Egmont. Ein Trauerspielin drey Aufeugen

KLARCHEN. Konnt ihr mich mifrverstehen? - Vom Grafen sprech' ich! Ich spreche von Egmont. SOEST «w^/jETTER. 176 Nennt den Namen nicht! Er ist todlich! [23i177] KLARCHEN. Den Namen nicht! Wie? diesen Namen? Wer nennt ihn nicht bey jeder Gelegenheit?Wo steht es nicht geschrieben?178 In diesen Sternen hab' ich oft mit alien seinen Ziigen ihn gelesen. 0Nicht nennen? Was soil das? Freunde! gute, theure Nachbarn, ihr traumt; besinnt Euch. 0Seht mich nicht so starr und angstlich an! 0Ich ruf Euch ja nur zu, was jeder wiinscht. Ist meine Stimme nicht Eures Herzens eigene Stimme? 0Fragt Euch einander! frage jeder sich selbst! und wer spricht mir nicht [232] nach: "Egmonts Befreyung oder den Tod!"179 JETTER. Gott bewahr' uns, da giebt es ein Ungliick! {Gott! welche Sprache!) (Um Gotteswillen, schweige!}180 KLARCHEN. Sonst,18' sonst, wenn der Ruf ihn ankiindigte, wenn es hieE: "Egmont kommt! Er kommt von Gent!" Da hielten die Bewohner der Strafien sich gliicklich, durch die er reiten muSte. Und wenn ihr seine Pferde schallen hortet, warf jeder seine Arbeit hin, und fiber die bekummerten Gesichter, die Ihr [233] durchs Fenster stecktet, fuhr wie ein Sonnenstrahl von seinem Angesichte ein Blick der Freude und Hoffnung.182 Da hobt Ihr Eure Kinder auf der Thiirschwelle in die Hohe und deutetet {sagtet} ihnen: "Sieh, das ist Egmont, der grofite da! Er ist's! Er ist's, von dem ihr bessere Zeiten, als cure armen Vater lebten, einst zu erwarten habt." Lafe Eure Kinder nicht dereinst Euch183 fragen: "Wo ist er hin? Wo sind die Zeiten hin, die ihr verspracht?" - {Und so wechseln wir Worte! sind miifiig und verrathen ihn.184} SOEST.l85 Schamt Euch, Brackenburg! Lafit sie [234] nicht gewahren! Steuert dem Unheil! BRACKENBURG. Liebes Klarchen! Wir wollen gehen! Was wird die Mutter sagen? Vielleicht ZIMMERMEISTER. Gevatter, kommt.186 KLARCHEN. Und ich habe nicht Arme, nicht Mark wie ihr; doch hab' ich, was Euch alien eben fehlt, Muth und Verachtung der Gefahr. 0Konnt Euch mein Athem doch entziinden! 0K6nnt ich Euch an meinem Herzen erwarmen und beleben. 0Kommt! In eurer Mitte will ich gehen! [235] - wie eine Fahne, die zwar selber wehrlos ist,1*7 ein edles Herr von Kriegern wehend anfuhrt, so soil mein Geist um cure Haupter flammen, und das zerstreute schwaonckende Volck zu einem fiirchterlichen Heer vereinigen. JETTER. lS8 {Soest.} Schafft' sie bey Seite, sie dauert mich. ab mit den ubrigen Biirgern. Scene 24. Klarchen. Brackenburg. BRACKENBURG. Klarchen! siehst du nicht, wo wir sind?

80

Images of Goethe through Schiller's Egmont

[236] KLARCHEN. 189 Wo? Unter dem Himmel, der sich so oft herrlicher zu wolben schien, wenn der Edle unter ihm herging. oAiis diesen Fenstern haben sie heraus gesehen, vier, fiinf Kopfe iibereinander; an diesen Thiiren haben sie gescharrt und genickt, wenn er auf die Memmen herab sah. O ich hatte sie so lieb, wie sie ihn ehrten! Ware er ein Tyrann gewesen, mochten sie immer von seinem Falle seitwarts gehen. Aber sie liebten ihn! -I9° 0O ihr Hande, die ihr an die Miitzen grifft, zum Schwert konnt ihr nicht greifen - 0Brackenburg und wir? [237] - Schelten wir sie? - diese Arme, die ihn so oft fest hielten, was thun sie fur ihn? - List hat in der Welt so viel erreicht. - Du kennst Wege und Wege, kennst das alte Schlofi. Es ist nichts unmoglich, gib mir einen Anschlag. BRACKENBURG. Wenn wir nach Hause giengen.19' KLARCHEN.' 9 * Gut!

BRACKENBURG. Dort an der Ecke seh' ich Albas Wache; lafi doch die Stimme der Vernunft dir zu Grenzen dringen. Haltst du rnich fur feig? Glaubst du nicht, daf? ich um I93[238]netwillen sterben konnte? Hier sind wir Beyde wahnsinnig, ich so gut wie du. Siehst du nicht das Unmogliche?194 Wenn du dich faGtest! Du bist aufier dir. Komm nach Hause. KLARCHEN. noch immer wie im Traum. Nach Hause? BRACKENBURG. Bcsinne dich nur! Sieh dich um! Diefi sind die Strafien, die du nur sonntaglich betratst, durch die du sittsam nach der Kirche giengst, wo du iibertrieben ehrbar ziirntest, wenn ich '95 einem freundlich griifienden [239] Wort mich zu dir gesellte.196 Du stehst und redest, handelst vor den Augen der offenen Welt; besinne dich, Liebe! wozu hilft es uns? KLARCHEN. wie CMS einem tiefen Traum aufivachend, und besinnend. Nach Hause! Ja, ich besinne mich. Komm, Brackenburg, nach Hause! WeiRt du, wo meine Heimath ist? Wie sie im Begriffist, fan zu gehen, fdllt der Vorhang. Ende des zweyten Acts.197

8i

Egmont. Ein Trauerspiel in drey Aufciigen

[240]^ Actus III. Biirgerliches Zimmer mit Tisch und Stuhlen Scene i.

Kldrchen allein. Kommt mit einem Licht und einem Glas Wasser aus der Kammer: sie setzt das Glas auf den Tisch und tritt am Fenster. Brackenburg, seyd Ihrs? Was hort ich denn? noch niemand? Es war niemand! Ich will das Licht ins Fenster setzen, dal? er sieht, ich wache noch, ich warte noch auf ihn.199 Er hat mir Nachricht versprochen. Nachricht? entsetzliche Gewifiheit? [241] — O Egmont, sicher hielt ich dich vor Gott und Menschen, wie in meinen Armen! Was war ich dir? Du hast mich dein genannt, mein ganzes Leben widmete ich deinem Leben! - Was bin ich nun? Vergebens streck ich nach der Schlinge, die dich fafit, die Hand aus. Du hulflos, und200 - ich frey! - fund kann dich nicht erretten!!} Hier ist der Schlussel zu meiner Thiire. An meiner Willkiir hangt mein Gehen und mein Kommen, und dir bin ich zu nichts! - O bindet mich, damit ich nicht verzweifle; und werft mich in den tiefsten Kercker, daft ich das Haupt an feuchte Mauern schlage, nach Rettung winsle, trau=[242]me, wie ich ihm helfen wollte, wenn Fesseln mich nicht lahmten, wie ich ihm helfen wiirde. — Nun bin ich frey! und in der Freyheit liegt die Angst der Ohnmacht — Mir selbst bewufit, nicht fahig, ein Glied nach seiner Hiilfe zu riihren. Ach leider, auch der kleine Theil von deinem Wesen, dein Klarchen ist, wie du, gefangen und regt, getrennt im Todeskampf, nur die letzten Krafte. -201 Ich hore schleichen, husten -202 {kommen} Brackenburg - er ist's! Elender203 guter Mann {Ungliicklicher Edler204}, Dein Schicksal bleibt sich immer gleich, dein Liebchen offnet dir die nachtliche Thiir, und [243] ach, zu welch unseliger Zusammenkunft!105

Scene 2. Brackenburg. Kldrchen. KLARCHEN. Du kommst so Obleich und schiichtern, Brackenburg! was ist's? BRACKENBURG. Dutch Umwege und Gefahren such' ich dich auf. Die grofien Strafien sind besetzt, durch Gafichen und durch Winkel hab' ich mich zu dir gestohlen. KLARCHEN. Erzahl, wie ist's?206 [244] BRACKENBURG. indem er sich setzt Ach Klarchen, laf? mich weinen.207 Ich liebt' ihn nicht. Er war der reiche Mann und lockte des Armen einziges Schaaf zur bessern Weide heriiber. Ich hab' ihn nie verflucht; Gott hat mich treu geschaffen und weich. In Schmerzen flofi mein Leben von mir nieder, und zu verschmachten hofft' ich jeden Tag.

82

Images of Goethe through Schiller's Egmont

KLARCHEN. Vergil? das, Brackenburg! Vergil? dich selbst! Sprich mir von ihm.2oS 0Ist's wahr? 1st er verurtheilt? [245] BRACKENBURG. Er ist's! ich weiE es ganz genau. KLARCHEN. Und lebt noch? BRACKENBURG. Ja, er lebt noch. KLARCHEN. Wie willst du das versichern? - Die Tyranney ermordet in der Nacht den Herrlichen; vor alien Augen verborgen fliefit sein Blut. Angstlich im Schlafe liegt das betaubte Volck, und traumt von Rettung, traumt seines ohnmachtigen Wunsches Erfiillung, indefi unwillig iiber uns sein Geist die Welt [246] verlafit. Er ist dahin. - Tausche mich nicht! dich nicht!209 BRACKENBURG. Nein gewil?, er lebt! - Und leider, es bereitet der Spanier dem Volcke, das er zertreten will, ein furchterliches Schauspiel; gewaltsam jedes Herz, das unsre Verfassung liebt, auf ewig zu zerknirschen. KLARCHEN. Fahre fort und sprich gelassen auch mein Todes Urtheil aus! Ich wandle den seligen Gefilden schon naher und naher, mir weht der Trost aus jenen Gegenden des Friedens schon heriiber. Sag' an.210 [247] BRACKENBURG. Ich konnt es an den Wachen mercken, an den Reden, die bald da bald dort fielen, daf? auf dem Markte geheimnisvoll ein Schrecknil? zubereitet werde. Ich schlich durch Seitenwege, dutch bekannte Gange nach meines Vettern Hause, und sah aus einem Hinterfenster nach dem Markte Es wehten Fackeln in einem111 weiten Kreise spanischer Soldaten, hin und wieder. Ich scharfte mein ungewohntes Auge, und aus der Nacht stieg mit ein schwarzes Geriist entgegen, geraumig, hoch; mir graufite vor dem Anblick. Geschaftig waren viele rings umher bemuht, was [248] noch von Holzwerk well? und sichtbar war, mit schwarzem Tuch einhiillend zu verkleiden. Die Treppen deckten sie zuletzt auch schwarz, ich sah es wohl. Sie schienen die Weyhe eines graSlichen Opfers zu begehen. Ein weil?es Kruzifix, das durch die Nacht wie Silber blickte, ward an der einen Seite hoch aufgesteckt. Ich sah, und sah die schreckliche GewiEheit immer gewisser. Noch wanckten Fakkeln hie und da herum; allmahlich wichen sie und erloschen. Auf einmal war die scheufiliche Geburt der Nacht in ihrer Mutter [249] School? zuruckgekehrt. KLARCHEN. Still, Btackenbutg! Nun still! Olaf? diese Hiille auf meiner Seele ruhn. - Kennst du dies Flaschchen, Brackenburg? Ich nahm dir's scherzend,212 als du mit ubereilten Tod einst ungeduldig drohtest. - Und nun, mein Freund BRACKENBURG. In aller Heiligen Nahmen! KLARCHEN. Du hinderst nichts! Tod ist mein Theil! und213 gonn mir den sanften schnellen Tod, den du dir selbst bereitetest. Gieb mir deine Hand! Im Augen=2I4[25o]blick, da ich die Pforte eroffne, aus der kein Riickweg ist, konnt ich mit diesem Handedruck dir sagen: wie sehr ich dich geliebt, wie sehr ich dich bejammert. Mein Bruder starb mir Jung; dich wahlt ich, seine Stelle zu ersetzen. Es widersprach dein Herz, und qualte sich und mich, verlangtest heifi und immer heil?er, was dir nicht beschieden war. Vergib mir und leb wohl.2IS Lafi mich

83

Egmont. Ein Trauerspiel in drey Aujzugen

dich Bruder nennen! Es ist ein Nahmen, der viel' Nahmen in sich fafit. Nimm die letzte Blume der Scheidenden [251] mit treuem Herzen ab - nimm diesen Kufi - der Tod vereinigt alles, Brackenburg, uns denn auch.2'6 {nun leb wohl ..nen unverschuldet Elend ich d... 2'7} BRACKENBURG. So lafi mich mit dir sterben! Theile! theile! Es ist genug, zwey Leben auszuloschen. KLARCHEN. Bleib! Du sollst leben, du kannst leben. - Steh' meiner Mutter bey, die ohn dich in Armuth sich verzehren wiirde. Sey ihr, was ich ihr nicht mehr seyn kann, lebt zusammen, und beweint mich. Beweint das Vater= [252] land, und den, der es allein erhalten konnte. Das heutige Geschlecht wird diesen Jammer nicht los; die Wuth der Rache selbst vermag ihn nicht zu tilgen. Lebt, ihr Armen, die Zeit noch hin, die keine Zeit mehr ist. Heut steht die Welt auf einmal still; es stockt ihr Kreislauf, und mein Puls schlagt kaum noch einige Minuten.218 Leb' wohl! BRACKENBURG. O lebe du mit uns, wie wir fur dich allein! Du todtest uns in dir, o leb' und leide. Wir wollen unzertrennlich dir zu beiden Seiten stehn, und [253] immer achtsam soil die Liebe den schonsten Trost in ihren lebendigen Armen dir bereiten.219 Sey unser! Unser! Ich darf nicht sagen, mein. KLARCHEN. Leise, Brackenburg! Du fuhlst nicht, was du riihrst. Wo Hoffhung dir erscheint, ist mir Verzweiflung. BRACKENBURG. Theile mit den Lebendigen die Hoffnung. Verweil' am Rande des Abgrunds, schau hinab und sieh auf uns zuriick. KLARCHEN. Ich hab' iiberwunden, ruf mich nicht [254] wieder zum Streit. BRACKENBURG. Du bist betaubt; gehiillt in Nacht, suchst du die Tiefe. Noch ist nicht jedes Licht erloschen, noch mancher Tag! KLARCHEN. fdhrtzusammen bey dem letzten W&rtWeh! iiber dich, weh! Weh!220 Grausam zerreiEt du den Vorhang vor meinem Auge; Ja, er wird grauen, der Tagl vergebens alle Nebel um sich ziehen und wider Willen grauen! Furchtsam schaut der Burger aus seinem Fenster, die Nacht lafit einen schwar=[255]zen Flecken zuriick; er schaut, und fiirchterlich wachst im Licht das Mordgeriiste. Die Sonne macht sich nicht hervor; sie will die Stunde nicht bezeichnen, in der er sterben soil. Trage gehn die Zeiger ihren Weg, und eine Stunde nach der andern schlagt.121 Halt! halt! nun ist es Zeit! mich scheucht des Morgens Ahndung in das Grab. Sie tritt am Fenster, als sake sie sich um, und trinckt heimlich. BRACKENBURG. Klare! Klare!222 KLARCHEN. geht nach dem Tisch und trinkt das [256] Wasser. Hier ist der Rest! Ich locke dich nicht nach. Thue, was du darfst, leb' wohl. Losche dirs Licht still und ohn zaudern, ich gehe zur Ruhe. Schleiche dich sachte weg, ziehe die Thiir nach dir zu. Still! Wecke meine Mutter nicht! Geh! rette dich! rette dich! wenn du nicht mein Morder scheinen willst. ab

84 Images of Goethe through Schiller's Egmont Scene j.22' Brackenburg allein. Sie lafit mich zum letztenmal wie immer. O kb'nnte eine Menschenseele fuhlen, wie sie mein liebendes Herz zerreifien kann. Sie lafit mich steh'n, [257] mir selber iiberlassen; und Tod und Leben ist mir gleich verhafo. - Allein zu sterben! - Weint, ihr Liebenden!224 Kein harter Schicksal ist als meins! Sie theilt mit mir den Todestropfen, und schickt mich weg! Von ihrer Seite weg! Sie zieht mich nach, und stofit ins Leben mich zuriick. O Egmont, welch preiswurdig Loos fallt dir! Sie geht voran; der Kranz des Siegs aus Ihrer Hand ist dein; sie bringt den ganzen Himmel dir entgegen! - Und soil ich folgen? wieder seitwarts stehen? den unausloschlichen Neid in jene Wohnung hiniibertragen? — Auf Erden ist kein [258] Bleiben mehr fur mich, und Holl' und Himmel bieten gleiche Qual. Wie ware der Vernichtung Schreckenshand dem Ungliickseligen willkommen. geht abii5 Das Theater bleibt einige Zeit unverandert: Eine Musik, Kldrchens Tod bezeichnend, beginnt, das Licht, welches Brackenburg auszulaschen vergessen, flammt noch einigemal auf, dann erlischt es. Sobald es erloschen ist, verwandelt sich die Szene in Egmonts Gefangnis. Das Verwandlungszeichen wird [259] mit der Papier Rolle gegeben?16 Scene 4.^ Gefangnis: durch eine Lampe erhellt. Ein Ruhe-Bette im Grunde EGMONT hervor kommend2^ Alter Freund! Immer getreuer Schlaf! Fliehst du mich auch, wie die iibrigen Freunde? {Wie willig senktest du dich auf mein freies Haupt herunter und kiihltest wie ein schoner Myrtenkranz der Liebe meine Schlafe.229} Mitten unter Waffen, auf der Woge des Lebens, ruhte ich leicht athmend, wie ein aufquellender Knabe, in deinen Armen. Was schiittelt mich nun? Was erschuttert den festen Muth meines Herzens?230 {treuen Sinn231} [260] Ich fuhl's, es ist der Klang der Mordaxt, die sich der Wurzel meines Leibes naht. Ja sie (iberwindet, die verratherische Gewalt. Sie untergrabt den festen hohen Starnm, und eh' die Rinde dorrt, stiirzt krachend und zerschmettert deine Krone - {Warum denn jetzt,2'2] Was ist das? Bin ich nicht derselbe mehr, der jede Sorge sonst mit leichtem Sinne von sich weg gebannt - Warum kann ich die Ahndung nicht verscheuchen, die schwarz und finster meinen Geist umwolkt?233 Seit wann ist denn der Tod mir furchterlich? nachsinnend [261] Nein, nein, der Tod ist's nicht - dem hab ich tausendmal in offner Schlacht getrotzt - der Kerker ists, des Grabes Vorbild, dem Helden wie

85

Egmont. Ein Trttuerspiel in dreyAujziigen

dem Feigen widerlich. - Unleidlich war mirs schon, auf einem gepolsterten Stuhle, in statdicher Versammlung da zu sitzen, und was der erste Blick so schnell so leicht entschied, langweilig wiederholt zu iiberlegen. Des Zimmers dustre Wande - die Balcken an der Decke driickten mich. Da eilt ich fort, so bald es moglich war, und rasch aufs Pferdt mit tiefem Athemzuge, und frisch [262] hinaus ins Freye, wo der Mensch erleichtert alle Fesseln von sich wirft, und an dem Mutterbusen der Natur sich frey und froh und seelig wieder finder. — Und jetzt — wo bin ich? Welches Loos erwartet mich?134 - Feindseliges Geschick! Warum miEgonnst du mir den raschen Tod im Angesicht der Sonne, urn mir des Grabes Vorgeschmack im modervollen Kerker zu bereiten! Wie haucht er mich aus diesen Steinen widrig an! Schon vor235 dem Tod stirbt hier das Leben ab - und schaudernd wende ich mich von die=[263]sem Ruhebette wie vor dem Grabe weg. - O Sorge! Sorge! Wie {Die} du vor der Zeit den Mord beginnst, lafi ab! Seit wann ist Egmonr denn allein — so ganz136 allein in dieser Welt? — Wird meine gute Sache mich niche schiitzen? Wird nicht Oranien zu rneiner Rettung etwas Kiihnes wagen — nicht ganz Brabant sich riihren, sich versammeln, und mit Gewalt den alten Freund befreyen? - O haltet, Mauern, die ihr rings mich einschliefit, der Freunde treuen Eifer nicht zuriick! Den Muth, den Trost, den sie aus meinen Augen sonst geschopft, lafit jetzt aus ihren auf mich ubergehen. [264] — Ja, ja! sie sinds — sie riihren sich zu Tausenden - Sie kommen - ich sehe sie nach Lanz und Schwert greifen. Die Thore spalten sich — die Gitter sprengen — die Mauer stiirzt von ihren Handen ein, und der Freyheit des einbrechenden Tages steigt Egmont frohlich entgegen - Wie manch bekannt Gesicht empfangt mich jauchzend! Ach! Klarchen! Warst du Mann! ich sahe dich gewifi auch hier zuerst und dankte dir meine Freyheit.237 {Was einem Konige zu danken hart ist, Freyheit.238} Gerdusch von Schlusseln. Man hort einige Thtiren gehen und Riegel vor=^9 [265] schieben. Egmont schrickt zusammen und horcht. Scene$.14° Egmont. Ferdinand und Silva. Von zwey Vermummten^1 {mit schtuarzen Mdnteln}*^ und einigen begleitet. Vbraus vier Fackeltrdger.

Gewaffneten

SILVA. noch aufierhalb Ihr andern wartet. EGMONT. Wer seyd Ihr? Was kiindigen Eure unsicheren, trotzigen Blicke mir an? Warum diesen fiirchterlichen Aufzug? [266] Silva. Uns schickt der Herzog, dir dein Urtheil anzukiindigen. EGMONT. Bringst du den Hencker gleich mit, es zu vollenden? Er sieht den Vermummten an, der ndher vorkommt, und ihm geradgegeniiber tritt. Ferdinand halt sich in der Feme.

86 Images of Goethe through Schiller's Egmont SILVA. Vernimm es, so wirst du wissen, was deiner wartet. EGMONT. So ziemt es Euch und eurem schandlichen Beginnen! In Nacht gebriitet und [267] in Nacht vollfuhrt. [So mag diese freche Tat der Ungerechtigkeit sich verbergen!}243 immer aufden Vermummten die Augen he/tend1*4 Tritt kiihn hervor, der du das Schwert verhiillt unter dem Mantel tragt; es {hier} 1st245 mein Haupt, das freyste, das je die Tyranney vom Rumpf gerissen. SILVA. Du irrst! Was gerechte Richter beschliessen, werden sie vor'm Angesicht des Tages nicht verbergen. EGMONT. So iibersteigt die Frechheit jeden Begriffund Gedanken. SILVA. nimmt einem dabey stehenden das [268] Urtheil aus der Hand, entfaltet es und liest: "Im Namen des Konigs, und Kraft besonderer Von Sr Majestat uns iibertragenen Gewalt, alle seine Unterthanen, was Standes sie seyen, zugleich die Ritter des goldenen Vliefies zu richten, erkennen wir -" EGMONT. Kann die der Konig iibertragen? SILVA. "Erkennen wir, nach vorgangiger genauer gesetzlicher Untersuchung, dich Heinrich Grafen Egmont, Prinzen von Gaure, des Hochverraths [269] schuldig, und sprechen das Urtheil: daf? du mit der Friihe des einbrechenden Morgens aus dem Kerker gefuhrt, auf den Markt, und dort vorm Angesicht des Volcks zur Warnung aller Verrather mit dem Schwerte vom Leben zum Tode gebracht werden sollest. Gegeben Briissel, am" Datum undjahrzahl werden undeutlich gelesen, so, daj?sie der Zuschauer nicht verstehi2*6 "Ferdinand Herzog von Alba." - Du weifit nun dein Schicksal; es bleibt dir wenige Zeit, dich drein zu ergeben, dein Haus zu bestel[27o]len und von den Deinigen Abschied zu nehmen. Silva mit dem Gefolge ab. Es bleibt Ferdinand und zwey Fackeltrager, das Theater ist mdssig erleuchtet. Scene 9 M: 150 KLARCHEN. Lied The text of the song does not appear in the manuscript. Schiller deleted Goethe's song for Kla'rchen, which reads:

Glucklich allein 1st die Seele, die liebt. Freudvoll Und leidvoll, Gedankenvoll sein; Langen Und bangen In schwebender Pein; Himmelhoch jauchzend Zum Tode betriibt; Glucklich allein 1st die Seele, die liebt. AID S: 36, 41 in der Schlacht! M: 159 in der Schlacht! zweytes Lied AII s: 42, 4 EGMONT. ... Ich bleibe - werde horen, was er will! Zu Richard. Geh du indes voran. Ich folge gleich. Richardgeht langsam und unschliissig. EGMONT. ihn zuriickrufend. Und hore! - Zu sehr schon haben ihn die andern merken lassen, dafi sie ihn scheuen - furchten. Ich will ihm diese Lust nicht machen. Geh - und lade alle meine Freunde - meine Diener auf einen Jubel ein auf diese Nacht. — Er wirds erwarten, dal? wir sorgend harren, was uns der Morgen bringen werde. Gut! Wir wollen ihm mit unsrer lauten Lust die ganze Nacht verderben. Klarchen umarmend.

99

From Text to Performance

M: 179 EGMONT. ... Ich bleibe — werde horen, was er will! Kldrchen umarmend. Ai2 s: 46, 23 ALBA. Es ist beschlossen, sie festzuhalten. - Du erstaunst. Was du zu tun hast, hore! Die Ursachen sollst du wissen, wenn es geschehn ist - jetzt bleibt keine Zeit, sie auszulegen. Mit dir allein wiinscht' ich das GroSte, das Geheimste zu besprechen: ein starkes Band halt uns zusammengefesselt, du bist mir wert und lieb, auf dich mocht' ich alles haufen. Nicht die Gewohnheit zu gehorchen allein mocht ich dir einpragen, auch den Sinn ausdriicken, zu befehlen, auszufuhren wiinscht ich in dir fbrtzupflanzen, dich mit dem Besten, was ich habe, auszustatten, dafi du dich nicht schamen diirfest, unter deine Briider zu treten. FERDINAND. Was werd' ich dir nicht fur diese Liebe schuldig, die du mir allein zuwendest, indem ein ganzes Reich vor dir zittert. ALBA. Nun hore ... M : 199 ALBA. Es ist beschlossen, sie fest zu halten - Nun hore ... Ai3 s: 49, 41 EGMONT. ... es sei desKonigsAbsichtv/eniger, die Provinzen nach einformigen und klaren Gesetzen zu regieren, als vielmehr sie unbedingt zu unterjochen, sie ihrer alien Rechte zu berauben, sich Meister von ihren Besitztumern zu machen, die schonen Rechte des Adels einzuschranken, um derentwillen der Edle allein ihm Leib und Leben widmen mag. M: 213 EGMONT. ... es sey die spanische Absicht weniger, die Provinzen nach einformigen und klaren Gesetzen zu regieren, als vielmehr, sie unbedingt zu unterjochen, sie ihrer alien Rechte zu berauben, sich Meister [214] von ihren Besitzthiimern zu machen, die schonen Rechte des Adels einzuschranken, um derentwillen der Edle allein dem KonigLelb und Leben widmen mag. Ai4 s: 50,16 ALBA. ... Ware es nicht besser, abzudanken, als ein solches Volk zu regieren? Weit besser ist's, sie einzuengen, dafi man sie wie Kinder halten, wie Kinder zu ihrem Besten leiten kann. Glaube nur, ein Volk wird nicht alt, nicht klug; ein Volk bleibt immer kindisch. EGMONT. Wie selten kommt ein Konig zu Verstand! Undsollen sich viele nicht lieber vielen vertrauen ah einem? Und nicht einmal dem einen, sondern den wenigen des einen, dem Volke, das an den Blicken seines Herrn altert. Das hat wohl allein das Recht, klug zu werden. ALBA. Vielleicht eben darum, weiles sick nicht selbst iiberlassen ist. EGMONT. Und darum niemandgern sich selbst iiberlassen mochte. Man tue, was man will; ich habe auf deine Frage geantwortet und wiederhole: Es geht nicht! M : 215 ALBA. ... Ware es nicht besser abzudanken, als ein solches Volck zu regieren? Weit besser ist's, sie einzuengen, dafi man sie wie Kinder halten, wie Kinder zu ihrem Besten leiten kann. EGMONT. Man thue, was man will; ich habe auf deine Frage geantwortet, und wiederhohle: Es geht nicht!

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Images of Goethe through Schiller's Egmont

AI5 s: 50, 38 ALBA, der sick indes einigemctl umgesehen hat. Solltest du das alles in des Konigs Gegenwart wiederholen? EGMONT. Desto schlimmer, wenn mich seine Gegenwart abschreckte! Desto besserfur ihn, fur sein Volk, wenn er mir Mut machte, noch mehr zu sagen. ALBA. Was nutzlich ist, kann ich horen wie er. EGMONT. Ich wiirde ihm sagen: Leicht kann der Hirt eine ganze Herde Schafe vor sich hintreiben, der Stier zieht seinen Pflug ohne Widerstand; aber dem edlen Pferde, das du reiten willst, muEt du seine Gedanken ablernen, du muEt niches Unkluges, nichts unklug von ihm verlangen. Darum wiinscht der Burger seine alte Verfassung zu behalten, von seinen Landsleuten regiert zu sein, weil er weifi, wie er gefuhrt wird, weil er von ihnen Uneigennutz, Teilnehmung an seinem Schicksal hoffen kann. ALBA. Und sollte der Regent nicht Macht haben, dieses alte Herkommen zu verandern? Und sollte nicht eben dies sein schonstes Vorrecht sein? Was ist bleibend auf dieser Welt? Und sollte eine Staatseinrichtung bleiben konnen? Ich furchte, diese alten Rechte sind darum so angenehm, weil sie Schlupfwinkel bilden, in welchen der Kluge, der Machtige zum Schaden des Volks, zum Schaden des Ganzen sich verbergen oder durchschleichen kann. EGMONT. Und diese willkiirlichen Veranderungen, sind sie nicht Vorboten, daE einer tun will, was tausende nicht tun sollen? Er will sich allein frei machen, um jeden seiner Wiinsche befriedigen zu konnen. Und wenn wir uns ihm, einem guten, weisen Konige, ganz vertrauten, sagt er uns fur seine Nachkommen {,seine Stellvertreter} gut? Wer rettet uns von volliger Willkiir, wenn er uns seine Diener, seine Nachsten sendet, die ohne Kenntnis des Landes nach Belieben schalten und walten, keinen Widerstand finden und sich von jeder Verantwortung frei wissen? ALBA, der sich indes wieder umgesehen hat. Es ist nichts natiirlicher, als daE ein Konig durch sich zu herrschen gedenkt und denen seine Befehle am liebsten auftragt, die ihn am besten verstehen, verstehen wollen, die seinen Willen unbedingt ausrichten. EGMONT. Und ebenso natiirlich ist's, daE der Burger von dem regiert sein will, der mit ihm geboren und erzogen ist, der gleichen Begriff mit ihm von Recht und Unrecht gefaEt hat, den er als seinen Bruder ansehen kann. ALBA. Und doch hat der Adel mit diesen seinen Briidern sehr ungleich geteilt. EGMONT. Das ist vor Jahrhunderten geschehen und wird jetzt ohne Neid geduldet. Wiirden aber neue Menschen ohne Not gesendet, die sich zum zweiten Male auf Unkosten der Nation bereichern wollten, das wiirde eine Garung machen, die sich nicht leicht in sich selbst aufloste. ALBA. Du sagst mir, was ich nicht horen sollte; auch ich bin fremd. EGMONT. DaE ich dir's sage, zeigt dir, daE ich dich nicht meine. ALBA. Und auch so wiinscht ich es nicht von dir zu horen. Der Konig sandte mich mit Hoffnung, daE ich hier den Beistand des Adels finden wiirde. Der Konig will seinen Willen. Der Konig hat nach tiefer Uberlegung gesehen, was

ioi

From Text to Performance

dem Volke frommt; es kann nicht bleiben und gehen wie bisher. Des Konigs Absicht 1st, sie selbst zu ihrem eigenen Besten einzuschranken, ihr eigenes Heil, wenn's sein mufi, ihnen aufzudringen, die schadlichen Burger aufzuopfern, damit die iibrigen Ruhe finden, des Gliicks einer weisen Regierung geniefien konnen. Dies ist sein Entschlufi; diesen dem Adel kund zu machen, habe ich Befehl; und Rat verlang' ich in seinem Namen, wie es zu tun sei, nicht was; denn das hat er beschlossen. EGMONT. Leider rechtfertigen deine Worte die Furcht des Volks, die allgemeine Furcht! So hat er denn beschlossen, was kein Fiirst beschlief?en sollte. Die Kraft seines Volks, ihr Gemiit, den Begriff, den sie von sich selbst haben, will er schwachen, niederdriicken, zerstoren, um sie bequem regieren zu konnen. Er will den inneren Kern ihrer Eigenheit verderben; gewifi in der Absicht, sie gliicklicher zu machen. Er will sie vernichten, damit sie etwas werden, ein ander Etwas. Oh, wenn seine Absicht gut ist, so wird sie mifigeleitet. Nicht dem Konige widersetzt man sich; man stellt sich nur dem Konige entgegen, der, einen falschen Weg zu wandeln, die ersten ungliicklichen Schritte macht. ALBA. Wie du gesinnt bist, scheint es ein vergeblicher Versuch, uns vereinigen zu wollen. M: 217 ALBA, der sich indefi einigemal umgesehen /wrSolltest du das alles in des Konigs Gegenwart wiederhohlen? EGMONT. Gut fur ihn, fur sein Volck, wenn er mir Muth machte, noch mehr zu sagen.

ALBA. Wie du gesinnt bist, scheint es ein vergeblicher Versuch, uns vereinigen zu wollen. Ai6 s: 63, 28 KLARCHEN. ... "Egmonts Freiheit oder den Tod." M: 232 KLARCHEN. ... Egmonts Befreyung oder den Tod! Ai7 s: 56,15 BRACKENBURG. Liebes Klarchen, wir wollen gehen! Was wird die Mutter sagen? Vielleicht KLARCHEN. Meinst du, ich sei ein Kind? Was kann vielleicht? - Von dieser schrecklichen Gewifiheit bringst du mich mit keiner Hoffnung weg. - Ihr sollt mich horen, und ihr werdet; denn ich sehs, ihr seid bestiirzt und konnt euch selbst in euerm Busen nicht wiederfinden. Lai?t durch die gegenwartige Gefahr nur einen Blick in das Vergangne dringen, das kurz Vergangne! {Denkt an die} Zukunft! Konnt ihr denn leben, werdet ihr, wenn er zugrunde geht? Mit seinem Atem flieht der letzte Hauch der Freiheit. Was war er euch? Fur wen iibergab er sich der dringendsten Gefahr? Seine Wunden flossen und heilten nur fur euch. Die grof?e Seele, die euch alle trug, beschrankt ein Kerker, und Schauer tiickisches Mordes schweben um sie her. Er denkt vielleicht an euch, er hofrt auf euch,

ioz

Images of Goethe through Schiller's Egmont

er, der nur zu geben, nur zu erfiillen gewohnt war. ZIMMERMEISTER. Gevatter, kommt! M: 234 BRACKENBURG. Liebes Klarchen! Wir wollen gehen! Was wird die Mutter sagen? Vielleicht •clong Klarchen speech missing> ZIMMERMEISTER. Gevatter, kommt.

Act in Ai8 s: 58, ii KLARCHEN. ... Nachricht? Entsetzliche Gewifiheit? - Egmont verurteih! — Welch Gericht darf ihn fordern? Und sie verdammen ihn! Die Regentin entzieht sich! Oranien zaudert und alle seine Freunde! - 1st dies die Welt, von deren Wankelmut ich viel gehort und nichts empfiinden? 1st dies die Welt? — Wer ware bos genug, den Teuren anzufeinden? Doch 1st es so — es ist! O Egmont, sicher hielt ich dich vor Gott und Menschen wie in meinen Armen!

M: 240 KLARCHEN. ... Nachricht? entsetzliche Gewifiheit? - O Egmont, sicher hielt ich dich vor Gott und Menschen, wie in meinen Armen! Aig s: 64, 6 EGMONT. ... Ach Klarchen, warst du ein Mann! ich sahe dich gewifi auch hier zuerst und dankte dir, was einem Konige zu danken hart ist — Freiheit! M: 264 EGMONT. ... Ach! Klarchen! Warst du Mann! ich sahe dich gewifi auch hier zuerst und dankte dir meine Freyheit. A2O s: 64, ii Funfter Aufiritt ... Egmont. Ferdinand und Silva, von einem Vermummten und einigen Gewaffneten begleitet... M: 265 Scene 5. ... Egmont. Ferdinand und Silva. Von zwey Vermummten und einigen Gewaffneten begleitet... A2i s: 65,16 Sechster Auftritt Egmont. Ferdinand. £terVermummte aWeinige Fackeltrager M: 270 Scene 6. Egmont. Ferdinand. Zwey Fackeltrager. A22 s: 65, 24 Geh! Sag ihm, sag ihm, dafi er weder mich noch die Welt beliigt! Er bemerkt den Vermummten, sieht ihn eine Weile forschend an, fdhrt dann fort, die Worte zum Teil an diesen richtend. Ihm, dem Ruhmsiichtigen, ... M: 271 Geh! Sag ihm, daf? er weder mich noch die Welt beliigt. Ihm, dem Ruhmsiichtigen, ... A23 s: 66, 7 EGMONT. ... Nun trifrt mich sein Geschofi. Sag ihm, dafi ichs weifi, da8 ich ihn kenne, dafi die Welt ihn kennen wird - da6 sie ihm friiher

IO3

From Text to Performance

oder sparer die Larve abreiSen wird indem er schnell aufden Vermummten zugeht und ihm das Gesicht entblofit, wie ich sie ihm jetzt hier abreifie. Man erkennt den Herzog von Alba, der schnell sick entfernt. Siebenter Auftritt Egmont, Ferdinand noch immer unbeweglich stehend EGMONT nach einer Pause. O des klaglichen Tyrannen - Todesurteile kann er schreiben, aber den Blick des bessern Mannes kann er nicht aushalten. Zu Ferdinand. Stehst du noch hier? Warum folgst du ihm nicht? Schame dich nur scha'me dich fur den, den du gerne von ganzem Herzen verehren mochtest. FERDINAND. Ich hore dich an, ohne dich zu unterbrechen, ... M: 273 EGMONT. ... Nun trifft mich sein Geschofi. Sag ihm, dafi ich ihn kenne, dafi die Welt jedes Sieges-Zeichen verachtet - das ein kleiner Geist sich erschleichend aufrichtet. Und du - wenn einem Sohn moglich ist, von der Sitte des Vaters zu weichen, ube bey Zeiten die Schaam, indem du dich fur den schamst, den du gerne von ganzem Herzen verehren mochtest. FERDINAND. Ich hore dich an, ohne dich zu unterbrechen! A24 s: 68, 42 EGMONT. Fahre hin! FERDINAND. Und ich soil daneben stehn, zusehn, dich nicht halten, nicht hindern konnen! Oh, welches Herz flosse nicht aus seinen Banden vor diesem Jammer! EGMONT. Fasse dich! FERDINAND. Du kannst dich fassen, ... M: 285 EGMONT. ... Fahre hin! FERDINAND. Du kannst dich fassen, ... A25 s: 69, 25 FERDINAND. ... "Ja, er wandelt einen gefahrlichen Weg." Wie oft wiinscht' ich, dich warnen zu konnen! Hattest du denn keine Freunde? EGMONT. Ich war gewarnt. FERDINAND. Und wie ich punktweise alle diese Beschuldigungen wieder in der Anklage fand und deine Antworten! Gut genug, dich zu entschuldigen, nicht triftig genug, dich von der Schuld zu befreien. — EGMONT. Dies sei beiseite gelegt! Es glaubt der Mensch, sein Leben zu leiten, sich selbst zu fiihren, und sein Innerstes wird unwiderstehlich nach seinem Schicksale gezogen. Lafi uns dariiber nicht sinnen; dieser Gedanken entschlag' ich mich leicht - schwerer der Sorge fur dieses Land; doch auch dafur wird gesorgt sein. Kann mein Blut fiir viele fliefien, meinem Volk Friede bringen, so fliefst es willig. Leider wird's nicht so werden. Doch es ziemt dem Menschen, nicht mehr zu griibeln, wo er nicht mehr wirken soil. Kannst du die verder-

IO4

Images of Goethe through Schiller's Egmont

bende Gewalt deines Vaters aufhalten, lenken, so tus! Wer wird das konnen? Leb wohl! FERDINAND. Ich kann nicht gehn. EGMONT. LaE meine Leute dir aufs beste empfohlen sein! M: 288 FERDINAND. ... ja er wandelt einen gefahrlichen Weg.

EGMONT. Lafi meine Leute dir aufs beste empfohlen seyn! A2.6 s: 71, 24 EGMONT. Sie schwang den Hut der Freiheit mir entgegen M: 295 Sie schwang die Siegespalme mir entgegen A2y s: 72,15 EGMONT. Es blinken Schwerter. Freunde, hohern Mut! .... M: 298 EGMONT. Es blinken Schwerter. Wohian! mit frohem Muth dem Tod entgegen Commentary Such is the sum of die meaningful differences between the scribe's product and Schiller's text. All of the main characters or character groups are affected. The Burger show a considerable change in character, treading a safer path than in Schiller when they discuss recent developments in civil rights and their relationship to their lord. Jetter's cry to rally around Oranien, "ein rechter Wall ... man konne sich hinter ihn verstecken" (AI) disappears from dieir toast, and their calls for "Freiheit" in Schiller become a qualified "Gewissens-Freyheit" (A2). Seifensieder asks no longer about dieir "Freiheiten," but rather about their "Privilegien" (A4), and the citizens respond no longer with "Freiheit und Privilegien! Privilegien und Freiheit!" but with "Unsre Privilegien! Privilegien und Gewissens-Freyheit" (A5). The difference between freedom and privileges is more than semantic in the history of civil rights, the latter implies an erosion of personal liberty which stretches down to the earliest years of social formation. These citizens want the privileges which they as citizens of a city have over other social groups, for example the city proletariat or the peasants. This is a vested interest as opposed to a desire for social liberty. Brackenburg's account of his school assignment in rhetoric is no longer "Brutus' Rede fur die Freiheit" but his "Rede fur das Vaterland" (A8), suggesting a narrow patriotism and loyalty to the state instead of personal freedom. Through these changes the citizens are in effect robbed of their sense of freedom, trading it for political equivalents which do not mean the same thing. As Jetter, who cries "O unsre gute alte Verfassung" instead of Schiller's "O unsre Freiheit," they have come to believe that a political document is the answer, not their internal sense or instinct. They have become epigones of freedom who can only long for a time when the people were active agents in their own liberty - "Wie sie einem Herrn gram wurden, fingen sie ihm etwa seinen Sohn und Erben weg, hielten bei sich und gaben ihn nur auf

IO5 From Text to Performance die besten Bedingungen heraus" (A3). Bold civic initiatives of this type are now clearly a thing of the past.6 Brackenburg's condescending "Liebes Klarchen! Wir wollen gehen! Was wird die Mutter sagen?" is no longer met with Schiller's enraged reaction and call to arms: "Meinst du, ich sei ein Kind? ... Ihr sollt mich horen, und ihr werdet" (AI/); and while Klarchen still attempts to rally her fellow citizens, it is no longer for Egmont's "Freiheit," but rather for his "Befreyung oder den Tod" (Ai6). Schiller's Klarchen challenges the fundamental social order, "Welch Gericht darf ihn fordern? ... 1st dies die Welt, von deren Wankelmut ich viel gehort und nichts empfunden?" (Ai8), a challenge removed from her lips by the scribe. Instead, the scribe returns Klarchen's lyrical sensitivity through Goethe's song (A9, AID). Schiller's deletion of such a theatrical winner showed just how much he wanted to change Goethe's Klarchen into an active heroine. Egmont, too, loses much of his political forcefulness at the scribe's hand. As with Klarchen and the citizens, his vocabulary is purged of libertarian extremes. In his vision of her, Klarchen champions a "Siegespalme" instead of a "Hut der Freiheit" (A26). From the beginning of the play he is redefined by the scribe to become less heroic than Schiller had fashioned him. The often discussed, "ich soil leben, wie ich nicht mag," from both Schiller and Goethe, is now "ich soil leben, wie ich nicht leben kann, wie ich nicht leben mag" (A6), a key reformulation which injects a fatality, an impossibility of change not present before. In Egmont's definitive conversation with Richard (Act n), his spirited embrace of a confrontation with Alba has also been excised (AII). The sense of Egmont's martyrdom for his fellow citizens is lessened, as statements, such as "Kann mein Blut far viele fliefien, meinem Volk Friede bringen, so fliefit es willig," and his bold seizure of any chance of reversal through Ferdinand, "Kannst du die verderbende Gewalt deines Vaters aufhalten, lenken, so tus!" (A25), are removed. In fact, the entire subplot of Egmont's relationship with Ferdinand is drastically pared (A24, 25). The scribe's redefinition of Egmont is most striking in the seminal scene with Alba in Act n, in which significant alterations and lengthy excisions have been made. Political pressure is relieved, as "des Konigs Abstcht... zu unterjochen, ... Rechte zu berauben" becomes the general and rather bland "spanische Absichf (Ai3). Deleted is Egmont's treasonous questioning, "Wie selten kommt ein Konig zu Verstand! Und sollen sich viele nicht lieber vielen vertrauen als einem? Und nicht einmal dem einen, sondern den wenigen des einen, dem Volke, das an den Blicken seines Herrn altert. Das hat wohl allein das Recht, klug zu werden" (Ai4), and so is the outrageous tirade against the king in Ai5. Egmont's inflammatory outburst even shocks the steely Alba, who looks around repeatedly in case it reaches other ears, let alone those of a contemporary audience surrounding their monarch in the theatre. No such danger remained after the scribe's excisions.7 Because the revolutionary explosiveness of Egmont is defused, the intensity of the contrast with Alba is lessened. His tyranny and responsibility lose focus

io6

Images of Goethe through Schiller's Egmont

and he becomes a much more acceptable representative of the crown. As was the case with Egmont, the secondary plot between Alba and Ferdinand is deemphasized, as seen in the omission of Alba's essential analysis of their bond (AIZ). Most interesting, however, is the scribe's reworking of the "Vermummter" scenes (A2O-23). Schiller's single hooded figure in the background while the judgement is spoken, a figure whom Egmont then approaches, unmasks, and accuses, was a spectacular theatrical display.8 It remains so today, as we shall see in our consideration of modern productions and films of Egmont. Schiller seems to have anticipated the potential to which Lotte Eisner points in her classic Haunted Screen with reference to Alba's presence in this scene: "Schiller had wanted to have the Duke of Alba appear at the back of the prison, a dark figure masked and draped in a cloak, gloating upon Egmont's reactions to the death sentence. What a scene for a film" (97)!9 In terms of the themes, the scene was a clear, direct, and powerful indictment of the surrogate monarch, and by changing the single hooded figure to two and excluding the moment of exposure, the copyist reduced its inflammatory quality, but still included is Egmont's "Geh! Sag ihm, dafi er weder mich noch die Welt beliigt. Ihm, dem Riihmsichtigen" (AIZ). It is difficult to argue that the change from one masked figure to two was accidental on the scribe's part. If it were, then why are there three references to the figures, the last to one specifical figure, and whom were audiences to have in mind when Egmont gives his message to the "Ruhmsiichtigen"? Had they heard of the 1796 premiere of Schiller's version in Weimar? Where was Egmont to look when he delivered this line? With his two hooded figures, the scribe weakened Schiller's direct attack, but retained exciting theatrical potential. Schiller's addition of these masked figures was one of the two main objections Goethe had to the adaptation, and one which he supposedly did not allow in performance after Schiller's death. His other major objection was to Schiller's exclusion of the final vision of Klarchen. There has been some debate about whether or not the hooded and subsequently exposed figure of Alba in the prison scene ever in fact darkened the Weimar stage after 1796 (the unmasking occurred precisely at the words "und ich darf es fragen, der Sterbende, der todlich Verwundete kann es fragen" [272]), but in fact there is little doubt that he did appear. Hans Gerhard Graf (n, i, 236-39) summarizes the primary evidence, consisting of four eyewitnesses, first one of Goethe's actors, Heinrich Schmidt (1779-1857), who recalled in his memoirs details of the scene while conversing with Goethe about it (Erinnerungen 160-1). Secondly, journalist and editor Karl August Bottiger (1760-1835) reported on the scene in some detail: "Viele fanden ihn [den Theaterstreich] unwahrscheinlich. Doch dem sei, wie ihm wolle. Der Schauspieler hatte nur die ihm gegebene Vorschrift zu befolgen, und sogar die Art, wie Iffland den schwarz verkappten Alba mit verwundender Rede angriff und mit jedem Worte einen Dolch in die Brust stiefi, voll malerischer Wirkung" (Entwickelung^6^\—^). Bottiger also published an exten-

107

From Text to Performance

sive critique of Iffland's performance, which will be central to the dicussion in chapter 6. Another witness, Anton Genast (1765—1831), an actor at the Hoftheater since 1791, reported: "Dal? Alba im 'Egmont' im funften Act als Henker mit grofiem rothen Mantel und tief ins Gesicht gedriicktem Hut erscheinen muKte, geschah auf seine [Schillers] Anordnung" (Eduard Genast, i, 113). The actor Johann Jakob Graff (1768-1848), who himself performed the role, apparently insisted that the scene be so played - "Schiller hat es so gewollt!" - to which Genast adds knowingly: "Goethe war damit einverstanden und beide wufiten recht gut, was sie thaten" (i, 113). The recorder of these comments, Eduard Genast (1797—1866), followed in his father Anton's footsteps, beginning as a boy actor under Goethe in 1814. A final witness, Friedrich Heinrich Carl Baron de La Motte-Fouque (1777-1843), reported a conversation with Goethe which also indicated that the Alba scene occurred much as above, except that Goethe claimed to have been in Ilmenau at the time and thus did not see it (28).I0 While there are contradictions in some of the details of these accounts, they leave litde doubt that the scene was played, probably more than once and with variations. It may have been even more exciting than we think, if Anton Genast's memory of the red cape is accurate; and the accounts consistently refer to Alba as an executioner, so I also assume a menacing sword or axe at his side. The scene may also have been included in five-act versions, not just Schiller's three-act adaptation, if we are to believe the actor GrafFs memory. Genast suggests that Goethe was in full agreement with these theatrical fireworks, but his is the only word to that effect. Finally, beyond Graf, the MA cites Christian Theodor Musculus's letter of 3 July 1838 to Eckermann in which he describes a performance he had just seen: "Sodann war auch Alba in den Mantel gehiillt wieder in der Kerkerszene gegenwartig, wie Egmonten das Todesurteil verlesen wird. Egmont rifi ihm den Mantel auseinander und warf ihm dabei den Hut vom Kopfe, worauf sich Alba schnell in die Coulissen zuruckzog, und den Hut auf dem Theater liegen liefi" (in, i, 862). Inventive variants were obviously the order of the day for directors long after Goethe's death. Taken as a whole, the scribe's textual emendations to his model result in an adaptation that mutes the revolutionary tone of Schillers version, especially in the characters of Klarchen and Egmont. They go far to remove direct criticism of the monarch and the concept of absolute monarchy. They return Klarchen to her former role as largely passive partner, at the same time restoring her gentle lyricism. They mute Egmont s inclination to lead a revolt of the people and to question the motives of the king, and reduce Schiller's emphasis on the ruthless villainy of Alba, most noticeably by removing the climactic scene of his disguise, recognition, accusation, and judgement. Also decreased is our interest in Ferdinand and his relationship to both his father and Egmont. In short, the scribe's product is a text that makes Schiller's adaptation more conservative, more politically correct, and as the unmasking scene clearly demonstrates, the changes lead us well beyond the mere text to broad questions of performance.

io8

Images of Goethe through Schiller's Egmont

B Emendations to the manuscript text by later hands Later emendations to the scribe's original reveal patterns of usage which changed the content of the text over time. This first group shows how the scribe's textual - as opposed to extratextual - material was received and treated by later users. Adjustments to the original version are shown below in italics, and the source of the change is included as . Act i

BI 15 SOEST. ... hat kein Gemiith gegen uns Niederlander, er liebt uns nicht; ... Warum triigen wir ihn alle auf den Handen? Weil man ihm ansieht, dal? er uns wohl will; weil ihm die Frohlichkeit, das freie Leben , die gute Meynung aus den Augen sieht. BI 31 ALLE. Sicherheit und Ruhe! Ordnung undfrei Gewissen! 63 53 EGMONT Geht an Euer Gewerbe. Es ist ein iibles Zeichen, wenn ihr an Werktagen feiert. 34 71 EGMONT . Ich komme nicht dazu. Und unter viel Verhafitem ist mir das Schreiben das Verhafiteste. Du machst meine Hand ja so gut nach; schreib' in meinem Namen - Beruhige Ihn - Ich erwarte Oranien. Ich komme nicht dazu und wunschte doch selbst, dafi ihm auf seine Bedenklichkeiten was recht Beruhigendesgeschrieben wiirde. 85 76 EGMONT . Und doch beriihrt er immer diese Sake. Er weifi von Alters her* wie verhafit mir diese Ermahnungen sind, sie machen nur irre, sie helfen nichts. Und wenn ich ein Nachtwandler ware und auf dem Gipfel eines Hauses spazierte: ist es freundschaftlich, mich beim Namen zu rufen und mich zu warnen, zu wecken und zu toten? Lafit jeden Seines Pfades gehen, er mag sich wahren. s6 79 EGMONT . Schenke mir diese Betrachtungen; wir wollen sie Schulern und Hoflingen iiberlassen. Kannst Du von allem diesen etwas brauchen? Die mogen sinnen und aus sinnen, wandeln und schleichen, gelangen wohin sie konnen, erschleichen, was sie konnen. Dem guten Alten scheint alles viel zu wichtig. So druckt ein Freund, der lang unsere Handgehalten, sie starker nock einmal wenn er sie lassen will. 87 105 EGMONT. Bei so grofier Gefahr, kommt auch die leichteste Hof/hung in Anschlag. Act ii

s8 209 EGMONT . ... Bey Gott! Wann darf sich ein Konig sicherer halten, als wenn sie alle fur Einen, Einer fur alle stehn? Sicherer gegen innere und auftere Feinde?

IO9

From Text to Performance

39 213 EGMONT . Nicht jede Absicht ist offenbar, und manches Mannes Absicht ist zu mifideuten. MuK man doch auch von alien Seiten horen; es sey die spanische Absicht weniger, die Provinzen nach einformigen und klaren Gesetzen zu regieren, die Majestat der Religion zu sichern und einen allgemeinen Frieden seinem Volcke zu geben, als vielmehr, sie unbedingt zu unterjochen ... BIO 216 EGMONT . Wie selten kommt ein Konigzu Verstand. BII 217 EGMONT . Desto schlimmer, wenn mich seine Gegenwart abschreckte, desto besser BIZ 226 KLARCHEN. Komm mit, Brackenburg! ivir miissen ihn befreyen! Bi3 232 JETTER. Gott bewahr' uns, da giebt es ein Ungliick! Gottlwelche Spracke! Urn Gotteswillen, schweige!' Bi8 260 EGMONT. ... die verratherische Gewalt. Sie untergrabt den festen hohen Stamm, und eh' die Rinde dorrt, stiirtzt krachend und zerschmettert deine Krone — Warum dennjetzt... ? 819 264 EGMONT. ... Ach! Klarchen! Worst du Mann ich sahe dich gewifi auch hier zuerst und dankte dir, was einem Konige zu danken hart ist, Freyheit. B2O 266 EGMONT . So ziemt es Euch und eurem schandlichen Beginnen! In Nacht gebriitet und in Nacht vollfiihrt. So magdiese freche Tat der Ungerechtigkeit sich verbergen! B2i 271 EGMONT . ... und wenn er einst von diesem Gipfel herabsteigt, werden tausend Stimmen es ihm entgegen rufen: Nicht das

no

Images of Goethe through Schiller's Egmont

Wohl des Staats, nicht die Wurde des Konigs , nicht die Ruhe der Provinzen haben ihn hieher gebracht. Um sein selbst willen hat er Krieg gerathen. Daft der Krieger im Kriege gelte. Er hat diese ungeheure Verwirrung erregt, damit man seiner bediirfe. Und ich falle, ein Opfer seines niedrigen Hasses, seines kleinlichen Neides. Ja, ich weifi es und ich darfes fragen, der Sterbende, der todlich Verwundete kann es fragen : mich hat der Eingebildete beneidet, mich weg zu tilgen, hat er lange gesonnen und gedacht. - Schon damals als wir, noch jiinger, mil Wiirfeln spielten, und die Haufen Goldes, einen nach dem andern, von seiner Seite zu mir heriiber eilten; da stand er grimmig, log Gelassenheit, und innerlich verzehrt' ihn die Argernifi, mehr iiber mein Gliick, als iiber seinen Verlust. Noch seh erinnere ich mich seinen funckelnden Blick seines funckelnden Slicks, die verrdtherische Blasse, als wir an einem offentlichen Feste vor vielen tausend Menschen um die Wette schossen. B22 285 EGMONT . ... Nicht im Tumulte der Schlacht, unter dem Gerausch der Waffen in der Zerstreuung des Getummels , giebst du mir ein fliichtiges Lebewohl. 823 288 FERDINAND. ... "ja er wandelt einen gefahrlichen Weg." Hattest du denn keine Freunde? EGMONT. Es glaubt der Mensch, sein Leben zu leiten, sich selbst zu ftihren, und sein Innerstes wird unwiderstehlich nach seinem Schicksale gezogen. Lafi uns dartiber nicht sinnen! Leb wohl. Lafi meine Leute dir aufs beste empfohlen seyn! 824 298 EGMONT. Freunde, hohern Muth! Im Riicken habt ihr Eltern, Weiber, Kinder! Commentary With just three exceptions, the source of these emendations is Goethe's original; almost half of them had been kept by Schiller as well, but omitted by the writer of the manuscript. This alone tells us that later users of the manuscript amended the text in one distinct direction, i.e., closer to Goethe's original. They were cognizant of the history and origins of the text, and took them into account in their editing. Just as clearly, it emerges that the figures of the Burger, Klarchen, and Alba are left almost entirely as they were in the original manuscript. In Egmont's text, on the other hand, is found almost all of the meaningful change; it is his character that aroused most interest and posed problems for future producers, but even here it can hardly be claimed that the changes to the text by later hands were far-reaching. Just three of the emendations involve the citizens directly. Their enthusiasm for freedom is slightly raised by reintroducing Goethe's "das freie Leben" at one point (BI), but the more conservative "frei Gewissen" instead of the scribe's

in

From Text to Performance

"Gewissens-Freiheit" (BI) seems merely a stylistic change. One emendation suggests producers' continued care with these concepts, namely the uncertainty surrounding Jetters final words in Act n - "Gott bewahr' uns, da giebt es ein Ungliick! / Gott! welche Sprache! / Um Gotteswillen, schweige!" (513) Klarchen's character is strengthened only slightly by two emendations referring to her concept of freedom ("wir mussen ihn befreyen!" BII) and Egmont's liberation ("so wechseln wir Worte! sind miifiig und verrathen ihn" (314); and her surprisingly generous reference to Brackenburg as "Ungliicklicher Edler" (815), which finds no resonance later on. There are no significant textual changes at all for Ferdinand or Alba. While the textual emendations affecting our image of Egmont are relatively minor, they do show some recasting closer to Goethe's mould. His peacemaking role is strengthened at the start by the insertion of his reprimand to the citizens, "Geht an Euer Gewerbe. Es ist ein iibles Zeichen, wenn ihr an Werktagen feiert" (83), and in the early, revealing scene with Richard, the reinsertion of Goethe's "Ich komme nicht dazu und wiinschte doch selbst, daS ihm auf seine Bedenldichkeiten was recht Beruhigendes geschrieben wiirde" (84) underscores his passive disposition. The reintroduction of Goethe's "Und wenn ich ein Nachtwandler ware" (85), "So driickt ein Freund" (s6), "Bei so grofier Gefahr" (B/), "Dafi der Krieger im Kriege gelte," and "und ich darf es fragen, der Sterbende, der todlich Verwundete kann es fragen" (BZI) rekindle Egmont's pensive, philosophical nature, so prominent in Goethe's image of him. In the pivotal scene with Alba, Egmont becomes less rebellious, more statesmanlike and politically analytical through the reintroduction of such utterances from Goethe's text as, "Sicherer gegen innere und aufiere Feinde? ... die Majestat der Religion zu sichern und einen allgemeinen Frieden seinem Volcke zu geben," and "Wie selten kommt ein Konig zu Verstand" (sS-io), the only hint of increased rebelliousness being the addition of "Desto schlimmer, wenn mich seine Gegenwart abschreckte, desto besser" (BII). In his cell at the end, Egmont draws still closer to Goethe's characterization through the replacement of Schiller's "festen Muth meines Herzens" with "treuen Sinn" (817), his expression of uncertainty through "Warum denn jetzt ...?" (eiS), and even the reintroduction of some of his indirect ctiticism of absolute monarchs - "was einem Konige zu danken hart ist, Freyheit" (819) and "So mag diese freche Tat der Ungerechtigkeit sich verbergen!" (BZO). But his final words of advice to Ferdinand, also taken from Goethe, are touched with helpless resignation: "Es glaubt der Mensch, sein Leben zu leiten, sich selbst zu fiihren, und sein Innerstes wird unwiderstehlich nach seinem Schicksale gezogen. Lafi uns dariiber nicht sinnen!" (B23). How much weight should we place on these emendations? They -were made by a number of hands at different times, in some cases contradicting each other, and should not be misunderstood as an adaptation in their own right,

H2 Images of Goethe through Schiller's Egmont

but rather as a trend in the use of the manuscript and Schiller's adaptation. As we move to the next group, we should remember as well that a number of the handwritten additions in this section were also themselves at later points deleted, their order and implementation even more uncertain. Still, the trend they show is clearly away from Schiller's adaptation and back to Goethe's original. C Extra-textual markings by later hands indicating substantial deletions of the scribe's text The following table summarizes substantial deletions from the manuscript by later hands." Because of the large number, only those amounting to at least a half page are included here (the footnotes in the previous chapter give a complete picture). As outlined in the editorial principles (Chapter i), some deletions are accompanied by the marginal note "bleibt" which presumably indicates that they were retained for some performances, excluded from others. "All" indicates the deletion of an entire scene.

Ms. pp. 47-52 59 61-63 64 68-83 87-95 95-98 98-99 146-49 154 174-81 182-86 190-94 202-03 212-14 223-25 228-30 236-38 240-43 244-53 260-62 270-92

Total pp. deleted 2.5 i 2

•5 6 3 3-5 i

3 2.5 i-5 i 2

3 i

i

Act, Scene 4 5 5 6 7 8 9 (All) 10

ii 6 7

10, ii (All)

12 15 17

18 21 (All) 23 M

2

in i

4 I 6

2

4 6

Characters involved Burger, Vansen Egmont, Buyk Egmont, Burger Richard allein Egmont, Richard Egmont, Oranien Eg., Oran, Richard Egmont, Oranien Brackenburg allein Klarchen, Mutter Eg., KL, Rich., Mutter Silva, Gomez Alba, Silva Alba, Ferd, Silva Alba, Egmont Brackenburg allein Klarchen, Burger Klarchen, Brackenb. Klarchen allein Klarchen, Brackenb. Egmont allein Egmont, Ferdinand

H3

From Text to Performance

Commentary Extratextual deletions amount in total to some fifty-seven pages of the manuscript original, or about one fifth of the entire text. Keeping in mind that Schiller's adaptation itself reduced the length of Goethe's Egmont substantially, the Mannheim manuscript, including deletions, should be seen as even more radical. The importance of the deletions can be judged by their length with respect to the scenes in which they occur as well as by their import. Most striking from the above is that four scenes are deleted entirely (i, 9; n, 10-11, 21), and that all four were scenes added by Schiller to Goethe's original in the course of his adaptation, in fact, four of the only five completely new scenes he contributed. The fifth, n, 5, involves Klarchen and Brackenburg. The chart shows further only a slight tightening of the lengthy citizen scenes in i, 4-5 and n, 23, and no deletions to them at all during the major sections of i, 1-3 and n, 1-3. There are large reductions in scenes involving Richard (i, 6-7 and 9), Brackenburg (n, 6, 21), and the threesomes of Klarchen, her mother, and Brackenburg (n, 6-7, in, 1-2), and Alba, Silva, and Gomez (n, 12, 15,17). Emphasis is also removed from the subplot between Klarchen and Brackenburg through the deletions in in, 1-2. By contrast, the scenes in which Alba and Egmont appear together, or separately with Ferdinand, especially their lengthy definitive meeting in 11, 19-20, remain largely undisturbed. The last covers some thirty-five pages of the manuscript [187-222], of which just five are deleted, and Egmont's long philosophical discussion with Ferdinand in in, 6 retains almost all of the meat in its twenty-two pages, as do the final scenes of the play in which Egmont remains on stage alone. The twenty-percent reduction in the length of Egmont through these deletions had several effects. It obviously decreased substantially the amount of text delivered by the actors and shortened the length of the play, resulting in a greater emphasis on the remaining text and characters involved. Obviously, later producers working from the manuscript were conscious of the duration of performance the title page of the manuscript bears the notation "3 St. I5M." [5], or "3 hours 15 minutes." This distillation renders the secondary characters (Richard, Mutter, Brackenburg, Gomez, and Silva) less distinct, while the main ones, especially Alba and Egmont, gain in intensity. There is a tightening to the essentials of dialogue and a concentration on the characters who deliver it, a sharper focussing of the play. However, the reduction of the part played by minor characters does not include the citizens. On the contrary, their scenes, which constitute a large part of the entire text, were obviously immune from major tampering. In relative terms, they become even more important in the production of this version than they were in Schiller's or Goethe's. With regard to the manuscripts sources, the elimination of most of Schiller's new scenes shows a pattern similar to that observed in the emendations of B, namely, that future users wanted to come closer to Goethe's text. What they did in performance, however, is quite a different matter.

ii4 Images of Goethe through Schiller's Egmont D Extra-textual markings pertaining to aspects of performance. If I wished to restrict this investigation of Egmont to literary aspects alone, I would be tempted to stop at this point. In the original manuscript, the scribe included a number of elements from Schiller, elements pertaining primarily to aspects of performance rather than text and these, as was the case with the textual alterations, show Schiller's strong interest in recasting Goethe's work to be theatrically more effective. They are, however, only a fraction of the overall number of emendations Schiller made to Goethe's original, so that a reader of his adaptation - as opposed to a witness of its performance - could almost overlook their full significance. The changes made by Schiller and included by the copyist, as well as those made by later hands, together represent a dimension of Egmont that is at least as important as those changes that affect the dialogue alone. Beyond the unmasking scene already discussed, further Schiller stage directions exemplify his attempt to invoke an exciting theatrical atmosphere. The rising tension through the citizens' meetings reaches this carefully orchestrated visual climax: Am dem Hintergrunde tritt die spanische Patrouille, undzieht sich vor bis iiber die Mitte des Theaters. Hier halt sie, schlieftt einen weiten Halbkreis um den Anfuhrer, der jedem durch Zeichen mit der Hand seinen Fasten anweift. Aufseinen Commandowinck treten sie wieder aus einander, und ziehen in vier Haufen auf eben so viel venchiedenen Wegen ab. Alles geschieht in der grofiten Stitte und Ordnung und mit abgemessenem langsamem Schritt [134].

Borcherdt cites this contemporary account of audience reaction to the scene in the Leipzig production of 1807: "Diese Einschaltung ist hochst zweckmafiig und tut bei der trefflichen Ausfuhrung eine grofie Wtirkung. Ich kann Ihnen versichern, dafi alles im Haus so still ward, als ob wirklich feindliche Truppen den Saal umringten" (xm, i, 351). The silent drama had a splendid impact on audiences. Even the reader naturally conjures up a mental vision of the sombre, menacing ritual, for stage directions like this arouse the imagination more than the intellect, and then comes a realization of what made the scene: costumes, movement, gestures, lighting - everything but the dialogue. An entirely different form of extratextual stimulus comes from Schiller's inclusion of music, as Man hb'rt im Nebenzimmer ein Instrument spielen [135] and die Musik vom Orchester begleitet [Egmonts] Schlummer und wird zuletzt vom kriegerischen Spiel hinter der Szene unterbrochen ... die Musik schweigt [294]. As was customary for many works in the eighteenth century, Egmont was performed with music, not just at this point, but throughout. To provide a musical score to accompany the play in its original form and at its premiere in Mainz and Frankfurt, Goethe engaged Philipp Christoph Kayser (1755-1823) who was to compose "die Symphonic, die Zwischenakte, die Lieder und einige Stellen des funften Akts, die Musik verlangen" (letter from Rome to Kayser, 14.8.1787, WA iv, 8, 243-6). This score is now lost. For the first performance of Schiller's

H5

From Text to Performance

adaptation in Berlin (25.2.1801) a different musical score by Johann Friedrich Reichardt (1752-1814) was used, for which there is still some documentation (Holtbernd, 254). Beethoven's famous score was written for use first in the Viennese production of 1810 and scholars have given much attention to its impact.12 Benedikt Holtbernd has explored the dramatic function of music in Goethe's dramas generally and includes valuable insights into Egmont (145—53). He notes the repeated integration of music into the action - a "Mannerchor" when the stage direction calls for "eine Art Kanon" [31]; Klarchen and Brackenburg's "Soldatenliedchen 'Die Trommel geriihrt'" (Goethe's i, 4); Klarchen's solo "Gliicklich allein" (Goethe's in, 2); and the symphonic accompaniment twice, upon Klarchen's death and Egmont's vision of her in die final act. Holtbernd bases his discussion on Goethe's original version and assumptions about the lost Kayser score. Suprisingly, he does not consider Egmont in Schiller's version, or Beethoven's score in detail, but his intelligent and revealing argument demonstrates that Goethe integrated music into this drama in an innovative fashion, rather than as a conventional accompaniment (149). Music represents several realms and actions, the male world of politics, the sensitive private world of women, Klarchen's independence from Brackenburg and Egmont's apotheosis (146-8). All of these add a further extratextual dimension to the play, but one quite easily forgotten by the reader since specific references to it in the text are few. The orchestral presence accompanies, among others, the most critical scene of the play, and one that is entirely mimed: Egmont, in his cell, envisioning the victorious Klarchen. Here music and mime engage the imagination to create the entire scene, which can only be achieved if the actor is talented enough to make the connection for the audience between the seen and the unseen. It is a visual climax, but in actual productions one that is often created in the mind of the audience alone, as will be seen in chapter 6. The manuscript scribe also included this stage direction from Schiller: dieser Auftritt wird leise gesprochen [135]. Such an instruction is irrelevant for readers but important for actors, directors, and audiences. It is a sign that we should pay more attention to those who actually transmitted the text — whatever text to the audience, and how they did it. Schiller's adaptation had many more stage directions than Goethe's, in order to guide directors and actors, but after 1796 he had no control over how they implemented them. The scribe's inclusion of most of Schiller's guidelines of this type shows a shared awareness of the importance of the actor's role beyond the dialogue. Further notations added by the scribe show something even beyond that, for example, "Das Verwandlungszeichen wird mit der Papier Rolle gegeben" [258f.] - what could it mean? "Verwandlung" calls for a scene change, and the entire entry seems to indicate that the change is to be made by the waving of a rolled up paper, a technical rather than a dramaturgical cue, to be given by the prompter or director to the stage crew.13 Such notes are never included in literary texts but his one seems to have slipped into the manuscript, revealing that the scribe was not just concerned with Goethe's or Schiller's literary text, but was also thinking about the details

ii6 Images of Goethe through Schiller's Egmont of how the performance would be managed. It is the same type of self-revelation shown by his inclusion of the "zwey Vermummten," who after their repeated mention - one is rivetted by Egmont's stare [267] - seem to disappear. The scribe's curious inclusion of a signal for the scene change is supplemented by many performance notations added to the manuscript by later hands. Although all glosses of this type are contained in the notes of chapter 2, it may be helpful to review them together now. The actual glosses appear in italics below, with my commentary in normal typeface. Glosses from the same place in the manuscript, but clearly from different hands, are on different lines. Many of these notations are abbreviations, many unclear or illegible, so that a completely accurate transcription of them is impossible, as is a complete understanding of what they all mean. andlungbeginmng Scene 2. Wurzbach ,.. Renter. Alle nehmen die Mtitzen ab. Zwatz beside deleted exchange between Egmont and Buyk. I Verw. beside speeches of Zirnmermeister and Soest. vi=l=de bracketing deleted Soest and Egmont speeches. verivendat end of Scene 5. abrlllat end of Scene 5. vi=pag:/S at end of Egmont speech, before Richard begins. ... p:8o = before deleted Egmont speech. =de in middle of deleted Egmont speech. =. at end of deleted Egmont and Richard speeches. Zusatz beside one sentence of Egmont speech. Zustz beside bracket including first two pages of scene with Egmont, Oranien, Richard. deleatur mark below one phrase of Egmont's speech to Oranien. Zuglat end of speech by Oranien. Zuglxi end of Act i.

Act ii

no D132 134

135

142/43 150

159 171

Verwchs 5f^p=Verwechslung der Szenenfolge. A.4.A.i.Sc. both at beginning of Act n of original manuscript. I verw. beside speeches of Zimmermann and Vansen deleatur mark at top of page. 2ste=Zusatz in left margin. A.A.I, beside start of Scene 4. Ausdem Hintergrunde trittdiespanischePatrouille, ... . // Verw. beside start of Scene 4. Man hort im Nebenzimmer ein Instrument spielen . dieser Auftritt wird leise gesprochen . bis z. Ende ds. St... ganz anders at start of bracket enclosing long passage. vi=l-de bracketing deleted and bracketed speeches by Brackenburg and Klarchen. anders in margin. a.a.IIbesidc start of Scene 7. Lied i beside start of Scene 7 . deleatur mark beside Liedi. deleatur mads, beside "zweytes Lied," both of which are also struck out. Einschieb.. Act I at end of Klarchen's speech.

n8 Images of Goethe through Schiller's Egmont 173 174 179 181 183/84 186 207/09 220 221 223

223/25 225 233 237

228 239

Actus //at end of Scene 9. Zstz. bis Verwandlung at beginning of Scene 10. Verwdlg near end of long Klarchen/Egmont Scene 10. abzlll&i end of Scene n. See similar note on [223]. Actus ///at end of Scene n. vide Scijl=Scena i) bracketing a long deleted Gomez speech. =de at start of Scene 13, previous vi= not apparent. + ... to connect with +. deleatur mark beside stage direction to Alba. / Verw between speeches of Alba and Egmont. a brill before Scene 21. Zstz in same place. Verwen in same place. vi=22^l=de bracketing Scene 21, which is entirely deleted. =Actus j= beside start of Scene 22. Weim ... Alex beside speaker Soest's name. Act: /beside speeches of Brackenburg, Klarchen. Zuglin same place, but also deleted. Verw I'm same place, but also deleted. Pause beside speech of Klarchen. From here to the end of the scene, numerous changes to speaker names and order Actus III zi end of Act n. Zugl in same place, also deleted. Verw. //in same place, also deleted.

Act in

240 243 249 256 258

Egm. i. Gefinst.. s..te.. at start of Act in. vi= before deletion of Klarchen and Brackenburg speeches, no connecting =de apparent later. vi= before deletion of Klarchen speech, no connecting =de apparent later. Zuglax. start of Scene 3. / Verw in same place. Das Verwandlungszeichen wird mit der Papier Rolle gegeben . Musik Nro: / at stage direction to end Scene 3. Zu Ende der Musik beim VerlSschen in same place. Actus in same place, also deleted. Verwandin same place. Zugl below stage direction. hierauf Entreact Nro: 6 below stage direction.

iig

From Text to Performance

259 263 264 265

Actus IV. Scene i, also deleted with "Verwandlung" beside . Verw /beside Egmont's monologue. Verw //below Egmont's monologue. Von zwey Vermummten . mit schwarzen Mdnteln. 266 Er sieht den Vermummten an, der naher vorkommt, und ihm gerad gegeniiber tritt . 267 immer aufden Vermummten die Augen heftend e>. 270 Sc. j, changed from Scene 6. 272/73 vi=l=de bracketing a portion of Egmont's speech. 274/76 #pag2j6=l= bracketing Egmont and Ferdinand speeches. 292 Scene 4 to replace Scene 7. 293 Musik Melodrama. 294 Er entschlaft: die Musik vom Orchester begleitet seinen Schlummer . siehe letzte Seite along margin before long stage direction. Erschgsr... 295 Andersat the beginning of a bracket beside complete text on p. 295-6. 297 Z#g/at end of Scene 7. Scenesto replace Scene 8. 298 Musik. replacing Trommeln. Anders, beside Egmont's last speech. Musik. at end of Egmont's last speech. 299 Zugl at end of play. Commentary It is obvious from these entries that later hands made extensive changes to alter the sequence and structure of the play. The wealth of mutually contradictory notes also reveals a wide variety of readings and performances, an extratextual tangle that attests to the impossibility of a fixed understanding of this play in any version. While the glosses themselves prevent a systematic reconstruction of performance, they do provide insights. In most cases, they are linked to others nearby and can be understood as pairs or groups, for example, vi= and in most cases de, together the Latin "vide," simply link text together around larger deletions, parallelling the pattern outlined in C above. The greatest number of linked glosses refers to the numbering of acts, with i, n, in, iv and even v represented. These reinforce the emendations to the original Trauerspiel in drey Aufaigen on the title page and show that the work was performed in three, four, or five acts at various times. Three seems to have been the norm, for most glosses of this type are restricted to the numerals i, II or HI, but the play was performed at least once from this manuscript in five acts, with Act v commencing with the Klarchen scenes at the end of the current Act 11 (see gloss on [225]).

izo

Images of Goethe through Schiller's Egmont

There was also in all likelihood at least one performance in four acts, as suggested by the gloss "Actus IV, Scene i" at the beginning of the prison scenes, now at the end of Act in. These references to Act v and Act iv do not suggest, however, a reversal of the two in position, since the entries on the manuscript are clearly in different hands. The numerous reference to Acts i, n, or in are closely accompanied in most cases by the notations verwenlden or Zugleich, indicating either that speeches or entire scenes so designated were used in a different order than they appear in the manuscript (sometimes the page or new act reference is present), or that, while speeches or scenes to which they are attached had been deleted for a previous performance, they were to be used for the current one. Added to this is the frequent gloss Zusatz (Zstz) and the glosses anders or ganz anders, which appear on the list four times (135,150, 295, 298). Both of these underscore the textual uncertainty. The dialogue portions marked Zusatz opened many avenues for flexibility from night to night, at the wish of the actor and director, and the very liberal anders and ganz anders give ample scope for variation in performance. The recurring gloss Verwand/lung indicates a scene, and probably also a set and lighting change. This reminds us that beyond the text there lay the technical necessities of production. The scribe himself added the cue Verwandlungta Schiller's text [258] and later glosses heightened attention to this aspect (see Verwandlung glosses on 32, 174, 179, 221, 237, 239, 256, 258 (twice), 259, 263, and 264). As readers, we simply jump from scene to scene and act to act, and it is easy to forget the technical requirements in between — the visual transformations brought about by changes of sets, props, costumes, and lighting. For readers, the visual dimension of drama is weak; for those in the theatre it can be even stronger than the dialogue itself. When we look at the staging of Egmont over a longer period, it will be important to unearth as much as possible about the technical aspects of performance, especially those with visual import. An outstanding example of this runs parallel to our previous observations on the lack of textual deletions affecting the citizens. In the extratextual glosses on the other hand, the citizens receive particular attention from both Schiller and later producers. He arranged through his stage directions a masterful visual climax to the citizen scenes in Act i — when the citizens draw around Egmont — using both symmetrical and contrasting movements to emphasize the significance of the events: "Der Tumult stillt sich nach und nach: Das Volk weicht ehrerbietig nach dem Hintergrunde zuriick, da.fi ein freyer Raum um Egmont wird. Vorn bleiben Soest, Jetter, Zimmermeister und Seifensiedtr, zwey aufjeder Seite des Theaters" [53-4]. This sense of staging was very much in the minds of later directors who used the manuscript as a performance text. The footnotes in chapter 2 show frequent manipulation of the order of speakers and the interchange between individual citizens and groups of them [8-32], and diagrams at several points also indicate blocking and positioning [8, 22, 27], Schiller provided stage directions to emphasize the citizens' initial solidarity, having them repeat their

izi From Text to Performance call for freedom in eine Art Kanon [31], which is enhanced by a later gloss to the manuscript to close the scene: "frei Gewissen! Alle. rezitiren" [32]. One cannot help but be reminded of the oath sworn in Wilhelm Tell. The theatrical potential here was not lost on later directors. Schiller suggested orchestration to accompany the later scenes, e.g., "Das Theater bleibt einige Zeit unvertindert: eine Musik, Klarchens Tod bezeicbnend, beginnt, das Licht, welches Brackenburg auszuloschen vergessen , flammt noch einigemal auf, dann erlischt es. Sobald es erloschen ist, verwandelt sich die Szene in Egmonts Gefangnif [258], a fine example of the blending of lighting and music, even special effects - how did they achieve the flaring up of the lamp and its extinction? This is the kind of technical bravado that excited audiences then and still does today. Immediately hereafter, the scribe inserted that instruction "Das Verwandlungszeichen wirdmit der Papier Rolle gegeben," a delicate, crucial point in the production. The play of light provided by the Fackeltrager in the final scenes with the Vermummten and the incarcerated Egmont also held great theatrical potential. In all of this it is useful to keep in mind that the "Zwischenvorhang" was unknown at the time, and this made set changes more cumbersome than later on. The choice was either to end the act by closing the curtain or to insert a "Verwandlung" and make the necessary physical changes for the scene as unobtrusively as possible. Schiller's move to three acts meant that the curtain closed just twice during the play, if at all. According to Holtbernd (based in part on the work of Helmut Schanze, as he acknowledges), Goethe required the music to Egmont to be performed while scene changes were made with the curtain open, thus integrating it completely into events on stage, rather than making it a pleasant distraction out of technical necessity (149). Some modern directors would do well to remember this, as we shall see in chapter 9, when considering die 1982 production in the Schauspielhaus in Frankfurt/ Main, as well as its filming. Later hands added to Schiller's instructions, such as "Musik Nro: 7" and "Zu Ende der Musik beim Verloschen" [258], apparently with reference to specific, known orchestral pieces, but do these refer to Reichardt's work, or to some other, perhaps Beethoven's later score? And just after a later hand added "' hieraufEntreact Nro: 6" — what was this piece, and does it suggest a musical interlude? Whatever the precise meaning of these entries, it is clear from general glosses like "Musik Melodrama" [293] that music contributed greatly to the emotional charge of the play. I recall Schiller's direction "dieser Auftritt wird leise gesprocheri' [135], an instruction to all actors for the entire scene to follow. The diagrams indicating the positioning and blocking of the citizens are one sign of the interplay between director and actor that was added to the manuscript by later hands, and there are many others. The emendations recorded a serious of curious notations (0) beginning on [231] and repeating on [234, 236, 244, and 249], appearing only in speeches by Klarchen. At another point beside her speech is the handwritten notation "Pause" [237]. These are directors instructions about how the actress

122

Images of Goethe through Schiller's Egmont

should deliver her lines, and the fact that they relate only to Klarchen suggests particular difficulty with or emphasis on that role. Other actor-oriented markings relate to most of the players. The glosses " Wurzbach ... Renter" [46] and " Weim ... Alex" [233], presumably proper names, suggest directors' concerns about how specific actors might respond at certain points or in specific roles. The many instances in which the text is underlined by the scribe and by later hands reflect the common practice for orators, actors, and directors to underline portions requiring particular emphasis in delivery.15 When taken together, they show considerable attention to the rhetorical dimension and raise questions not just about the individual speeches at the places marked, but about rhetorical style and acting in general. The key elements to acting are voice, gesture, mime, and movement. Like Schiller, the manuscript scribe, and later users, we must give this dimension of performance more attention, something that holds true not just for this manuscript but for almost any director's or prompter's book used for performance. The documents underlying many of the modern productions discussed in chapter 9 contain notations and markings very similar to those in the Mannheim manuscript, which suggests that some of the problems of actors and directors have remained constant over the past two centuries. In conclusion, the textual manipulations in sections A, B, and C provide good reason to believe that the users of the manuscript were intent on reclaiming more of Goethe's original text for performance; yet their overall reduction of the length of the text through extensive deletions, and their attention to staging, show that like Schiller they were not content to rely on Goethe's text alone to create effective theatre. The following chapter investigates the relationship between the text of Egmont and its performance in a variety of theatres during Goethe's lifetime.

4 Reflections of the Text in Performance

Images in the text of a play remain trapped in their literary context until performed. From this moment of release they flow unrestrained into that sea of eyes, minds, and psyches made up by audiences, critics, and reviewers, and even back to the author himself, a sea ever changing in time, place, and character. Once a play is performed it can never again be just text, and can never again be understood only as such. Through performance, its literary isolation and social separation are overcome, it joins society in a symbiosis of mutual reflection. The text of Egmont, when communicated through performance, must be understood partly in terms of the society that makes up its audience, and that society, whichever time or place we may choose, is multifacetted, as is the work itself. Scholarly studies of Egmont usually refer to four principal sources of extratextual information: the play's historical background, Goethe's comments, Schiller's review of its first publication, and public reactions to publication and performance. I, too, cite Schiller's review and refer to the historical backgound and Goethe's reactions from time to time. To date, the introduction and analysis of materials showing public reaction to performances of Egmont leaves much to be desired. In the Reclam Erlduterungen und Dokumente, a standard resource for students, teachers, and researchers, Hans Wagener offers in "Dokumente zur Wirkungsgeschichte" four reviews of the publication of Egmont, including Schiller's (75-89), six analyses by authors and scholars (92-96), and four reviews of performances (90-102) in Weimar 1806, Berlin 1870 (review written by Theodor Fontane), Florence (1967), and Hamburg (1967). These four reviews are so oddly disparate that they permit no general conclusions about contemporary reception. Wagener was of course constrained by the nature of the Reclam series, but the weight of evidence in his section on documentation points to a

124

Images of Goethe through Schiller's Egmont

traditional scholarly bias in favour of literary analysis and the continuing tension between Germanistik and Theaterwissenschaft. The same can be said of various important scholarly editions of Goethe's works. None of the Weimar, Hamburg, Frankfurt, or Munich editions, for example, contains more than one or two reviews of Egmont performances, despite their extensive presentation of many other documents surrounding the play. Max von Brack's 1969 edition contains no account of reviews, and no scholarly study of Goethe's dramas or Egmont cites more than a scant selection of them, with the exception of Sigrid Siedhoff (1983), who does refer to a number; however, her focus on Schiller's contribution makes her treatment substantially different from my own. This chapter focusses on the public reaction to Egmont during Goethe's lifetime. In chapter 9 I will be looking closely at modern productions. How the public reacted to Egmont while its author was still alive, tells its own story and is the basis for the later history of its reception. This public reaction is not the same as that of the Weimar court and its "public," for that was Goethe's realm, and it was so permeated with his presence and control that it cannot truly be called public at all. Reactions from other stages, towns, and cities tell us much more about the play and about its author than anything I can cite from Weimar or Goethe himself. The intellectual circles of the age were alive with an energy that found a voice in the wealth of new literary and theatre journals which proliferated within a very few years. They contain what Goethe's contemporaries thought about his books and about his plays and their performance, but the location and collection of such materials poses problems for modern scholars and often deters them. So much more welcome is the wonderful collection of dieatre materials assembled, but never published, by Oscar Fambach and located in the German Department of the University of Bonn. The materials in this tiny, stuffy, but wonderful archive serve as die basis for this chapter, and they stand silently waiting to serve many others as well - it remains a mystery to me why such a rich resource remains largely unheeded in published scholarship. The archive contains materials on die repertoires of major stages from 1800, and documents on the production, performance, and reception of hundreds of plays, stage personalities, and theatre journals. The materials are eidier photocopies or, to a great extent, typewritten copies of materials published elsewhere, the meticulous precision of which is reassuring. There are 160 photocopied or typed reviews and discussions of Egmont performances, some 250 pages of material, ranging from brief notes to multipaged analyses in minutely printed double columns, covering the years 1789 to 1832, that is, from Egmont's premiere to Goethe's last year. Twenty-four towns and cities are represented and audiors of die reviews include professional critics in established theatre journals, as well as many amateurish commentators, sometimes even actors diemselves.1 Among the cities included are die major theatrical centres of Goethe's age (beyond Weimar): Berlin, Frankfurt/Main, Hamburg, Mannheim, Munich,

I2j

Reflections of the Text in Performance

and Vienna, each with numerous productions, performances, and reviews. Even though this play was less popular than some of his others, there was clearly a host of Egmont productions.2 Here is an overview of the cities and productions covered by the Fambach reviews, along with the years of production for which there are documents in the archive: Aachen 1826

Augsburg 1828

Berlin 1801 1804 1811 1817 1819

Braunschweig 1819 1823 1832

Bremen 1818

Cologne 1823 1825

Darmstadt 1822 1824 1830

Dresden 1817

Hamburg 1815 1818 1819 1824 1827

Karlsruhe 1817 1828

Kassel 1822 1830

Leipzig 1822 1826 1828

Frankfurt 1821 1822 1825 1827 1828 1829 1830 1831 1832 Mainz 1789 1827 1828

Prague 1818

Stuttgart 1812 1817 1821

Vienna 1810 1812

Weimar 1791 1796

Mannheim* 1824 1825 1826 1827 Wiesbaden 1828

Breslau 1809 1815 1818 1820 1824 1825 Hannover 1820 1821 1824 1825

Munich 1812 1825 1827 1831 Wurzburg 1829 1818

While this list should not be understood as a complete record of Egmont productions in the period, it probably includes most, and certainly enough to provide a comprehensive picture of public reaction. Noticeable are the relatively few reviews from Weimar and Vienna. Egmont was never a success in Vienna, but this was the location of the first performance with Beethoven's symphonic score. Its limited exposure there resulted in part from its positive treatment of a people's rebellion against a foreign monarch, something which came too close to home in a capital whose regent, Joseph n, had very recently repeated the process in the Netherlands. The apparently meagre record of Weimar productions is misleading, for Graf (11, I, 197) and Burkhardt list eleven more performances

1x6

Images of Goethe through Schiller's Egmont

there between 1796 and 1816, with others by the company at neighbouring stages in Lauchstadt, Leipzig, and Halle. From the above it is also striking that Frankfurt was especially important for Egmont on stage, despite the fact that the city waited until 1821 to produce what it later felt was one of the great plays of its native son. In the following I shall attempt to give a sampling of what these reviews contain, and then to extract their common themes and thrusts for discussion in subsequent chapters. It should be stressed from the start that one of the pervading characteristics of this corpus is contradiction, still typical of theatre and art reviews today. It is common in the corpus for a review full of praise for actors and production to be countered in another journal by a cry of dismay. At times the reviews are even more revealing of the relationships among critics themselves than the action on stage. "Wenn man iiber eine Darstellung wie Egmont, nichts weiter sagen will oder kann, als Herr F. dariiber sagte, so thate man wohl besser zu schweigen," begins a Dresden critic, concluding his own review with "doch ich will ja nicht die Vorstellung, sondern nur die Rezension des Herrn F. rezensiren."4 Individual taste also has a lot to do with judgements rendered. The reviews remind us repeatedly that we are dealing not just with a world of literature, and certainly not with an established set of aesthetic norms, but with the humans who brought texts to life, with their own vanities, foibles, and flaws. The reviews reveal, for example, many technical gaffes, for example, that "der Strafien-Prospekt zweimal hintereinander zur Halfte in die Hohe ging, wahrend dem Monolog des Brackenburg, gleich bei der Verwandlung, mithin ehe Klarchen auftritt, vorfiel."5 In Frankfurt, "Eine abermalige Ungeschicklichkeit des Theatermeisters brachte Verwirrung in die Florgardine, welche vor die Traumgestalt fallt und verdarb zum Theil die schone Scene."6 In Hamburg, "war der Schemel, auf welchem Clarchen vor Egmont knieen soil, zu hoch oder Egmonts Sessel nicht hoch genug. Clarchen konnte die Vorschrift des Dichters nicht erfullen, ihre Arme auf Egmonts Schoofi zu legen, und das Bild, welches der Zuschauer schon durch die Lektiire kannte und erwartete, war verungliickt."7 The words "schon durch die Lekture kannte" are a useful reminder that many of the audience at die time had read die text and this triggered expectations about what they would see on stage. Similar effects were produced by actors intentionally, as in Hanover: "Hrn. Geifilers Buffonnerie am unrechten Orte verdarb wieder einige ernste Scenen; wer lacht nicht gern? doch lacht man nicht am Sarge und auf dem Hochgericht."8 Perhaps we should be careful about taking Egmont performances so seriously, for some of the contemporary actors obviously did not. Anecdotes about actors' incompetence or misbehaviour abound. In Breslau, "war indessen ... Wilhelm von Oranien leider in die Hande des Herrn [Carl Eduard] von Holtei [1797-1880] gerathen, welcher im AeuEern sowohl, als im Spiel, vollkommen einer Marionette glich. Herr [(Johann) Heinrich Ludwig] Schmelka [17771837] machte aus dem Vansen einen Bejazzo."9 This was matched in Cologne "Den Schreiber Vansen machte Herr Jost zum formlichen Juden" - which

127

Reflections of the Text in Performance

makes one wonder just what kinds of adaptations were in vogue.10 In most theatres there were in fact ongoing casting problems with sometimes bizarre results, as here in Mannheim: Wilhelm von Oranien, Herr Thlirnagel, leistete so viel in seinen Kraften stand; die Rolle ist nicht fur ihn, sie paf?t fur Hrn. Brandt. Herzog von Alba, Herr Brandt, leistete so viel in seinen Kraften stand; die Rolle ist nicht fur ihn, sie pafit fur Hrn. Thiirnagel. Nun frage ich aber: wie ist eine solche Verwechselung verniinftig denkbar? Diese beiden Rollen konnten gar nicht ungeschickter ausgetheilt werden. Man verwechsele die Rollen, und wir sehen zwei vorziigliche Leistungen, wahrend sich auf diese Weise Herr Thiirnagel sehr beengt fiihlt und Herr Brandt um nichts und wieder nichts sich so gewaltig abdeklamirt, daf? ein Menschenohr gar nicht im Stande ist, diesen Strom von Bafi-Tonen aufzunehmen. Klarchen, Dem. Kinkel, hat nichts fur diese Rolle, als ein anmuthiges Singstimmchen, womit sie das Liedchen ganz allerliebst vortragt. Fiir den iibrigen Theil der Rolle hat sie weder Figur, noch Kraft, noch Phantasie genug. Bei der ersten Zusammenkunft mit Egmont erregte sie einigemal lautes Lachen, und das blofi durch eine ihr eigne Natiirlichkeit, die iibrigens dem Charakter Klarchens nicht entspricht. Ober Klarchen darf nie gelacht werden.11 Serious stuff, these classics, of course, not to be trifled with. For many, Klarchen enjoyed a status alongside Joan of Arc, this at times being transferred in the audience's mind to the identity of the actress who played her. The following remarkably personal confession from an aging theatre fan rings as a passionate testimonial to the power of actress Karoline Benda's Klarchen in Karlsruhe: So etwas Wunderschones, Lieblich-Trauriges hatte ich noch nie gesehn, selbst in meinen Marchentraumen nicht — und dazu diese siifie, innige Stimme! Die Benda ward von jenem Abend an meine ganze Liebe, mein hochstes Idol ... und noch heute, nach 60 Jahren, ergluht mein altes Herz in Liebe und defer, tiefer Wehmuth, wenn ich des holden Frauenbildes und der herrlichen Kiinstlerin gedenke, die einst mein kindliches Herz so ganz erfullte — und die so unsaglich traurig endete ... ich ruhte nicht, bis ich durch eine Schulkameradin, in deren Hause und Familie die Benda lebte, der Kiinsderin bekannt und lieb geworden war. Ich durfte mit ihr spazieren gehn, ihr die Rollen iiberhoren, vor ihr deklamiren, tanzen, plaudern - und sie von ganzem Herzen lieb haben. Wie mich das begliickte! Die Mutter sah es gern, dafi die allgemein geliebte und geachtete Kiinstlerin, die so still fur sich lebte und den Karlsruher Kaffeegesellschaften nie ein Staubchen fur die Medisance lieferte, ihr flatterhaftes Linchen gern um sich duldete. — Ich wurde durch diesen Umgang manierlicher in Gang und Haltung und im Benehmen, hielt mich sauberer in der Kleidung und sprach "hochdeutscher." Wenn mir im Eifer des Zungleins doch zuweilen ein echt Karlsruhesches "Willsch'te" und "Hasch'te" entschlupfte, so brauchte die Mutter nur zu sagen: "Lina, wenn Fraulein Benda Dich so horte!" - und ich nahm mich zusammen. - Ja, ich glaube ehrlich, ich wurde durch die Benda auch besser!12

128

Images of Goethe through Schiller's Egmont

Much has been written in the last decade about the image of female actors and their general disrepute among eighteenth and nineteenth-century contemporaries (see for example Inge Buck 1988, Ursula Geitner 1988, Ruth-Ellen Joeres 1986, Susanne Kord 1992, Renate Mohrmann 1989, and Karin A. Wurst 1991). This passage might well have been of use to them. It provides at least on one level evidence for the claim that the stage at the time really did have a pedagogical function in society, and that women actors played an important positive role therein, apparently exerting an influence on theatre-goers which ranged from their moral standards to their dress and language. Perhaps the level of this effect is not that envisioned by those concerned with aesthetics in the late eighteenth century, but it does accord with the some of the social realities of the time. The passage also attests to the celebrity status of many of these actors, a concept that will become increasingly important for our analysis. The reviews often reveal as much about the audience and critics as the performance itself, as in Breslau where Klarchens affection for Brackenburg evoked this aside: "Eine meiner Nachbarinnen im Theater aufierte wenigstens ganz naiv - und sie war recht jugendlich und liebenswiirdig - sie wiirde sich nie i einen solchen — Liebhaber verliebt haben."13 The young woman's personal aura and perhaps his own future prospects with her were as much in the mind of this critic as the tragedy on stage. Some of the reactions to productions in Goethe's home town suggest a similar distraction from the play itself. There, " [begannen] bei dem ersten Zeichen mit der Klingel immer fiinf Minuten vor jeder Verwandlung die Hauser und Palaste schon zu wanken, die Thiiren lofiten sich aus ihren Fugen, wodurch fast der jedesmalige Schluf? und Abgang sehr beeintrachtiget wurde; sogar durch die Wande spazierten die Schauspieler in den Saal herein." The last suggests that both cast and audience were as much interested in socializing during the "Frefipause" as performing or watching any aesthetic niceties.14 So much for generalizations. In order to obtain a geographically balanced understanding of the entire Fambach corpus, I shall focus now on seven major cities, for each of which there are multiple critiques of the same production, even the same performance; and I shall blend ancillary information about less prominent stages into the account from time to time. The seven cities are Mainz, where the play premiered, Berlin, Mannheim, Vienna, Stuttgart, Hamburg, and Frankfurt/Main. EGMONT IN MAINZ

The first review of the premiere of Egmont in Mainz, despite the generally accepted assumption that its text base was Goethe's original, speaks of "Gothens Egmont mit Abanderungen." "Die Erscheinungs-Scene der Clarchen muste natiirlich wegbleiben. Das Snick ist bei uns wohlfeil nachgedruckt, und war daher in den Handen aller Zuschauer; man las nach, und war unzufrieden, daf? vieles geandert, besonders, dafi die obige Scene ausgelassen war."15 Even for its

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premiere Egmont was substantially adapted. The reviewer suggests further that the audience had all read the text beforehand (we just saw that this was also the case in Hamburg in 1827), and were even following along in their seats - obviously the body of the theatre itself was lit, as was the custom then, with direct effect on the social interaction of those therein. The audience's dissatisfaction seemed to result in large part from the fact that the production before them strayed from the text, was in fact an adaptation. Several important points for our discussion emerge: the tension beteen text and performance; the audience's prior knowledge of the text; and the nature and extent of adaptation. A second review of the same performance complains: bei der heutigen Vorstellung gieng noch unendlich mehr durch die ausserordentliche Verstummelung des Stiiks verloren ... ich begreife also nicht, wie man hier so unbarmherzig mit dem guten Egmont umspringen konnte, da£ man die meisten Stellen, worin vom Gewissenszwang und von der neuen Lehre die Rede ist ... ausmerzte, dafi man die herlichen Monologen so unverwantwortlich verstummelte ... Aber warum liefi man Klarchen nicht so einfach schon, wie der Dichter, hinter dem Vorhang sterben? Warum mufi sie noch ins Gefangnis stiirzen, da Egmont zum Blutgeriiste abgefiihrt wird, das Interesse der lezten Szenen, den Eindruk, den Egmonts unglukliches Schiksal auf den Zuschauer macht, schwachen und zerstreuen?'6 This gives a much better idea of the alarming "Verstummelung" that occurred. It would seem that not only was the dream vision omitted, but many weighty passages and monologues were deleted (perhaps some because of the censor, as Pfeiffer Belli suggests, 81), and an entirely new scene invented which landed Klarchen in Egmonts cell. The exasperated reviewer finally gasps: "Glaubt man, das Ding hier besser zu verstehen, als Gothe?" Now that is a good question. The review also includes a lengthy section on the actors, among them, as Egmont, "Siegfr. Ghe. Eckart gen.[annt] Koch," that is, not the famous actor and troupe leader Heinrich Gottfried Koch (1703-75) who had died four years earlier, but rather the lesser known Siegfried Gotthelf Eckardt [sic] (1754-1831), who acted under the pseudonym Koch.The evaluation of individual actors' performances is a major part of most reviews in this corpus and deserves special attention. From the beginning, Egmont had its share of strong leads, with favourite actors praised repeatedly for dieir refinement of specific roles, particularly Egmont and Klarchen of course. The Mainz review closes with some reference to the costuming of the play: "Noch mufi ich anfiihren, dafi dies Stiik im Ganzen ziemlich getreu dem Kostiim seiner Zeit gegeben wurde." Along with scenery and sets, this is an aspect that occupied the minds of critics increasingly as time passed, but in the early years it was very much overshadowed by lengthy assessments of the actors' performances. The Mainz productions of Egmont in 1827/28 raise further questions about the extent to which the original was adapted there. These performances should

130 Images of Goethe through Schiller's Egmont be seen in conjunction with a concurrent production in nearby Wiesbaden where most of the same actors performed for the pleasure of spa guests. A playful reviewer - "Ah! Gothe kommt doch noch an die Reihe! Nun es war auch einmal Zeit!" — describes the formal structure of Egmont simply as a "Trauerspiel in so und so viel Akten. Im Buche sind fiinf Akte angegeben, auf dem Zettel vier, und wir mufiten uns daher bedeutende Abkiirzungen gefallen lassen ... Glaubt denn die Direction, das Entree sey so geringe, daf? sich der Zuschauer mit Bruchstiicken begniigen kb'nne? Nein, wir wollen Alles sehen, Alles!" We know indeed that Goethe's original had five acts, and that Schiller's adaptation three - but four - what version is this - perhaps the four-act version of the Mannheim manuscript? However, the indignant demand following, to see the entire play instead of a truncated version, seems to be linked more to the price of admission than aesthetic considerations. An accusing finger is pointed at all possible parties — "der Direktor, oder der Regisseur, oder der Souffleur, oder der Inspicient, oder der Theatermeister kann nur der Schuldige seyn" — without a thought that they perhaps saw this version as more effective for that theatre and that occasion. For this critic, Goethe's text must dominate. The review also refers to a somewhat novel handling of the dream vision: "Der Vorhang fiel gerade in dem Augenblicke, als uns Egmont einen bedeutenden Traum erzahlen sollte und hoffentlich wollte, und als Alba's Wache ihr Opfer zum Tode fuhren soil. Was sind denn das fur verbessernde Abkiirzungen?" This is indeed strange, for the debate over the dream vision focusses usually on whether it was indeed enacted, as in productions close to Goethe's original, or mimed, as in Schiller's adaptation. Here it seems to have been eliminated altogether either by intention or blunder.'7 Finally, the review tells us, the "Chor (d.h. die sprechenden Choristen) wirkten auch mit," leaving us only to guess at who these might be and what they did, for there is no such representation in either Goethe's or Schiller's versions. A review of Egmont in Mainz, covering a performance one year later, makes no mention of these idiosyncracies, concentrating entirely on the actors' performances instead.18 In sum, reviews of Egmont in Mainz and Wiesbaden leave us with an incomplete understanding of what the public there did in fact see, but it was certainly nothing that had appeared in print. EGMONT

IN BERLIN

Berlin was the first city to stage Egmont after Schiller's version appeared in Weimar in 1796 and the Fambach corpus includes broad coverage of productions at the Nationaltheater in 1801,1804,1811,1817, and 1819, when further performance was banned by King Frederick William in. The first of these is characterized by an interesting exchange of correspondence between the well known Berlin actress Friederike (Auguste Konradine) Unzelmann (1760-1815) and Goethe, initiated by her request for a manuscript of Schiller's adaptation and permission to perform it at a benefit. Frederick William in had grudgingly

131 Reflections of the Text in Performance granted permission, wary of Egmont's political themes, and Iffland, who had played the lead in Weimar five years earlier, was now in charge of the Nationaltheater. Friederike Unzelmann was a person of considerable charm and guile, for it is clear from her request that she did not want to play Goethe's original, yet could hardly afford to bruise the ego of the great one: "Hierzu mus ich nun an Er. Hochwohlgeborn Giithe appelliren, mir doch unter welchen Bedingungen es auch seyn mag gefalligst die Umarbeidung zukommen zu lassen nach welcher es in Weimar gegeben ist" (n Nov. 1800; Briefe an Goethe, 269, not in Goethes Briefe). Never averse to the charms of a lady, Goedie acquiesced, and the play premiered in Berlin on February 25 in three acts, with Reichardt's music, and with Iffland as Oranien, Beschort as Egmont, and Unzelmann herself as Klarchen. The first review called the performance "keine Sensation," adding that "dem Publiko der groEere Theil der Schuld zufallen mag, insofern man von der Schuld gewisser Theaterleute, die noch immer Schauspieler heifien, und indem sie die Nebenrollen entstellen, das Stuck zu Grunde richten, abstrahirt."19 While the tomfoolery of some secondary actors seems to have been as problematic in Berlin as in Mainz, new complaints about the audience's intellectual incapacity and aesthetic insensitivity are levelled here. This reminds us that such classical works as Egmont were embedded in a repertoire of much lighter fare and indeed flew in the face of many of the public's theatrical expectations. A second review of the same performance gives us essentially the first public critical reaction to Schiller's adaptation: "Aber es wirkte bei weitem nicht, was man sich davon vorgestellt hatte. Der Hauptgrund davon liegt in seiner Umanderung. Zu den Auffuhrungen in Weimar war nehmlich dies Stuck sehr umgeschmolzen worden, und Mad. Unzelmann bat sichs daher in dieser neuen Gestalt von Gothe aus. Er schickte es ihr, und bei der Gelegenheit erfuhr man, daf? die Umarbeitung von Schiller sei, dem Gothe, nach seiner sarkastischen Weise, die schone frische Jugendgeburt zu beliebiger Erziehung hingegeben hatte, ohne sich weiter darum zu bekummern. "20 Considering his proximity to Iffland in Berlin and his intimate knowledge of how the Weimar version and production of 1796 came to pass, this critic's ignorance of Schiller's true role in the adaptation is amazing and his barb against Goethe entirely unfair. The literary mogul is depicted as sarcastic, ingenuous, manipulative, almost irresponsible; Schiller, the people's choice, is the innocently wronged. Later, however, we will see that time and again the damage done to Goethe in comments such as this is more than redressed by the adoration which by the time of his death reached embarrassing proportions. Beyond this, the reviewer writes that despite explicit advertisement of Schiller's three-act adaptation, "die Direktion hielt es sogar fur nothwendig, dem Stucke noch mehr Leids anzuthun, um alles daraus zu entfernen, was vielleicht noch in Berlin Anstofi geben konnte," reminding us that in all of these productions the censor had the final word. Indeed, the Duke of Weimar attended the premiere as a guest, so that we can only guess at how truncated the text became as a result. Unzelmann's letter of April 1801 to Goethe

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Images of Goethe through Schiller's Egmont

tells of the Duke's attendance and evaluation of the performance. She lays much of the blame for the production's failure on (Friedrich Jonas) Beschort (17671846) who played the lead. I shall examine this in detail in chapter 6 (Briefe an Goethe, 337, #1221; letter not in Goethes Briefe). A further review of the same production takes a new stance, one that will become characteristic in coming years. Although it repeats some of the criticisms voiced above, it judges that Egmont is ineffective on stage because it "ist also nichts als eine Reihe schoner einzelner Scenen, die auf keinen Haupteindruck hinwirken!"21 The assumption here is that the main problem with Egmont lies not in adaptation, not in production, not in the actors who perform it or the public who receives it, but rather in the play itself. The reviewer continues with a lengthy aesthetic and literary discussion rather than a critique of what he has seen, clearly another illustration of the tension between text and performance. In the example of Mainz, this manifested itself through a public who had previously read the play and indeed was following it on stage with text in hand. Their judgement, and that of the critic, was based on how closely that text was followed. The Berlin critic goes one step further to question the dramatic viability of even that original text. Reviews of subsequent Berlin productions in 1804, 1811, 1817, and 1819 show that Egmont continued to be adapted there. Goethe's friend Karl Friedrich Zelter (1758-1832) saw the performance of 15 May 1811, in which the distinguished actress Amalie Wolff made a guest appearance as Klarchen, and was, according to Zelter, "trefflich, und sauberlich, ja appetitlich gekleidet: ein Vorteil den wir hier nur an der Madame Bethmann kennen."22 Zelter's assessment of appropriate theatrical costume seemed to overlap with his taste for the opposite sex. With a very different eye he describes Alba, who was, "um seine Lammergestalt zu erheben, ausgeputzt wie ein Schlachtermeisterstiick."23 On 17 May 1817 Mme. Schirmer's performance as Klarchen included an appearance "nach dem Tode (als Traumgesicht)," showing that Goethe's vision was by then reinserted.24 The new production of 1819 in the Opernhaus reverted to Goethe's original entirely and included Beethoven's musical score. Reviews of it pay more attention than we have seen before to the visual aspects, particularly the costumes and sets. Naturally the dream vision of Klarchen is included, and we begin to gain insight into how such a difficult scene was managed: "An der Scenerei, dem Costum u.s.w. war mit Ausnahme der Erscheinung Clarchens, nichts auszusetzen. Letztere war aber verfehlt, und zwar pantomimisch, weil die Freiheit zuviel Apparat brauchte; ferner scenisch, weil eine lichte einfache Wolke besser gewirkt haben wiirde als der wie ein Niirnberger Ei eingeschachtelte Coconartige Regenbogen."2' Things seem to have improved already five days later, if we are to believe a reviewer who saw die show then: "Insbesondere hatte man die Erscheinung zweckmafiig verandert. Die Musik war nemlich fast um die Halfte gekurzt; die Gottin hatte nichts mehr aufzulangen oder wegzuwerfen: in der Rechten einen leichten Palmzweig, in der Linken die Lorbeerkrone

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haltend, ruhte sie auf dem Kopfe eines Lowen, hinter dem eine weiSe Lanze mit dem kleinen Freiheitshut und den 7 Pfeilen aufgesteckt war; Alles licht und in Uebereinstimmung mit den Wolken gemalt. Sie bewegte sich wenig, aber sinnig und leicht, und die Wirkung war lebhaft und allgemein."26 Visual dimensions of production were gaining increasing attention, and it should be noted that these included not just the sets, but the pantomimic activity of the actors. Discussion of these in fact takes up most of this lengthy review, and its primary focus was the famous Pius Alexander Wolff in the tide role, another in the line of accomplished Egmonts. "Hr. Wolff hat den Egmont ubernommen," writes another critic, "dai? er ihn vorziiglich durchfiihrt, dafiir biirgt sein Name."17 Such evaluation betrays a respect for reputation, not just critical judgement of acting technique. Wolff was indeed one of the most famous actors on the stage by this time, having also been one of Goethe's chosen favourites in Weimar before following Iffland to Berlin. But the reviewer adds: "indessen ware zu wiinschen, dafi seine Personlichkeit eine bessere Representation zuliefie." The two-sided assessment, the one an uncritical recognition of reputation, the other presumably based on some analysis of technique and effectiveness, points to a typical dichotomy in the appraisal of acting at the time. Interestingly, Wolff saw fit to defend himself soon after in a published letter, in which he also took the liberty of critizing the entire production himself. He admits some weaknesses in his performance, but adds that the second one was much improved, as were many other aspects of the production.28 This reminds us that the question of adaptation is continually complicated by the fact that the play was in flux even during its run. Wolff says, for example, that Madame Stich who played Klarchen, "auch in der Giftscene etwas gekiirzt hat, ... es ging alles sicherer, freier und bestimmter als in der ersten Vorstellung." EGMONT IN MANNHEIM

Our third stage for examination is the Mannheim Nationaltheater, the source of our manuscript in chapter 2. Fambach's extensive published work on this theatre's repertoire lists the first performance on ^6 December 1806 and the first to use Beethoven's music on 21 March i8i4.i9 It is reasonable to assume that the six performances in Mannheim before 1824 (in 1806,1810,1812,1813,1814, and 1818) were based on Schiller's adaptation in the manuscript form, but when we look at performances thereafter, we must understand the apparent mixture of Goethe's original with Schiller's adaptation and Beethoven's music. The 1824 production calls Egmont a "Trauerspiel in 5, gegeben in 4 Abtheilungen, von Gothe; mit Musik von Beethoven," which suggests an adaptation of Goethe's text and recalls the markings throughout the manuscript which divided it into Acts i-iv.3° Several later productions carry the same divisional designation in the reviews. At least some text and elements that were missing from Schiller's adaptation were now part of the performance, for example, the dream vision,

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Images of Goethe through Schiller's Egmont

which this first reviewer refers to specifically as "Egmonts verkorperter Traum vor der Schlufiszene" as opposed to his mimed enactment of the same. Other reviews also give attention to the handling of this scene, for example: "Die Erscheinung beginnt, und Egmonts immer kiirzer werdender Athem verrath uns seinen Antheil daran. Ergriffen und aufmerksam malt sich die Seele im Gesicht, ohne Verzerrungen, ohne zu grofie Spannung. Es 1st ein freundliches Bild, das vor seinem innern Auge schwebt, es ist eins mit seinem schon jenseits verklarten Geiste."31 From this description it would seem that Goethe's actual vision and Schiller's mimed version became wedded. In Mannheim considerable attention was given to the visual aspects of production, both with respect to acting and the physical properties of the stage. The same review claims, for example: "eine gute Darstellung Egmonts ist eine vortreffliche Schule fur Schauspieler, denn sie finden darin fast bei jedem Worte Stoff zum Nachdenken und Studium. Wir reden hier nicht von Schauspielern, die nicht studieren wollen, und die glauben, in dem Hersagen ihrer Rollen mit steigender und fallender Stimme, im Schmachten bei Liebhaberrollen, und im krampfhaften Verzerren der Gesichtsmuskeln, der Arme und Beine, im Toben und Briillen, dafi man oft das dritte Wort nicht versteht, bei Heldenrollen, liege das Geheimnifi der Kunst." This review suggests that acting is a precise, professional undertaking, but little is said about the specific technical details of effective and praiseworthy movement and gesture. Regarding the visual aspects of the stage, we read: "Von ganz vorziiglicher Schonheit und Vortrefflichkeit sind wohl die einzelnen Szenen, welche uns oft mit wenigen "Worten das Treiben des niederlandischen Volks und seine Sitten so wahr und bildlich darstellen. Nichts ist verfehlt, Leben und Natur sprechen aus jedem Pinselstrich." Such praise of scenes and sets will also come to our attention in reviews from Frankfurt and Leipzig. They record an increasing sophistication of set design, and such turns of phrase as "bildlich darstellen" and "sprechen aus jedem Pinselstrich" indicate a strong sense of linkage between dramatic presentation and the plastic arts, terms similar to those used in Goethe's writings on the aesthetics of the stage. The costuming is also frequently mentioned in the Mannheim reviews, either negatively, for example: "die untere Bekleidung Egmonts war nach diesiger Sitte allzu knapp und expressiv" and "ob die zur Verherrlichung des Traumgesichts aufgesteckte franzosische Jacobinermutze hier pafite, wird man leicht beurtheilen konnen";32 or with admiration and praise, for example: "Die neuen, schon gewahlten Anziige, mit denen sich Hr. Lowe heute ausgeschrniickt hatte, mochten wohl auch ihren Antheil an dem beabsichtigten Eindrucke haben, zumal in der, fur jeden Kunstler aufierst dankbaren Scene mit Klarchen, wo er den Mantel aufschlagt, und diese, von dem physischen Glanze ihres Idols berauscht, die einzelnen Schonheiten seiner Hiille mit kindischer Freude bewundert. Hr. L. hat iibrigens das Verdienst, diesen Augensieg ohne Zuthun der Theatercasse davon getragen zu haben"33 and "Das Kostiime, welches Herr

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Lowe gewahlt hatte, war wohl etwas zu geziert, aber doch durch den verwendeten Reichthum und die, bis ins Kleinliche beobachtete Genauigkeit ein Beweis, wie sehr er seine Kunst liebt und sein Publikum hochschatzt."34 Ferdinand Lowe (1787—1832) was a great favourite in Mannheim and one of die foremost Egmonts of his age, perhaps not just because of acting, or even his wonderful costumes, for when he made a guest appearance in Leipzig, a reviewer wrote: "Er hat eine schone Figur (von den hiesigen Damen besonders anerkannt, denn sie allein fullten das Haus) ... die Damen nahmen mindestens sieben Achtel der Platze ein."35 It seems that Lowe himself was responsible for creating this costume and his others as well. This is surprising in the case of Mannheim and shows a loosening of productions there by this time. Before Dalberg's departure in 1803 there was much tighter control over costume and coordination, as documented by Iffland's "Kleidungsreglement" of 1792 for the Mannheim theatre (Pichler 331—38). I am reminded by this and the examples of less fortunate costume selection above that the entire range of costumes in a production was often uncoordinated, dependent instead on the means, taste, even the whim of the individual actor. In this vein a Breslau critic laments that "Clarchen ... ganz einer Gesellschafts-Mamsell unserer Tage glich. 1st denn bei der hiesigen Biihne den Schauspielern ganz und gar die Wahl des Anzugs iiberlassen?"36 And a Leipzig reviewer writes: "Dem Oranien, (Herr Genast) fehlte es an einer entsprechenden Maske. Selbst die Farben des Costiims waren nicht angemessen gewahlt. Es giebt eine Bedeutsamkeit der Farben, die selbst noch mehr als das Historische des Costiims auf der Biihne beriicksicht werden mufi."37 This entire field of visual presentation and coordination will receive closer attention when we look at Goethe's work as director of the Weimar theatre. In fact the notion of coordinating the entire production is one which is glaringly lacking in these reviews, with a very few exceptions. Mannheim is one of the few stages where reviewers comment on the actual direction of the play, as in this compliment: "Das Arrangement des Stiickes verrieth durchgangig Fleif? und Genauigkeit. Das Lob dafiir gebiihrt dem Regisseur, Herrn Brandt. Es ist gar keine leichte Aufgabe, eine Scene ... so zusammen zu arbeiten."38 When the direction of actors is combined with all of the other dimensions of the theatre, the task is indeed formidable. EGMONT IN VIENNA

The Hof- und Nationaltheater (Burgtheater) in Vienna was the first to present Goethe's Egmont in five acts with Beethoven's musical score in 1810, repeating it two years later.39 Most of the commentary in the reviews concerns the actors, and approval is lessened by occasional expressions of disdain, one reviewer lamenting, for example: "das Stuck schien ... ohne Probe in die Scene gebracht zu seyn. Jenes Ineinandergreifen, die wechselseitige Unterstiitzung, die nur dann statt hat, wenn alle Mitglieder ihrer Rolle machtig sind, fehlte dieser

136 Images of Goethe through Schiller's Egmont Vorstellung."40 It should be kept in mind just how flexible the casting was at the time, with actors often reassigned during a production run, and guest performers from other theatres commonly inserted, as we saw in Berlin, when both Herr and Madame Wolff made guest appearances. Rehearsals were not only often impossible under such circumstances, but on many stages they had not yet become required preparation for performance. The most celebrated aspect of the Viennese productions, however, was not the play but Beethoven's music, which remains intimately identified with Egmont to our own day. The polite, but lively correspondence between the two masters of their respective crafts records their admiration for each other, the genesis of their partnership, and its fruition in 1810. As we saw in chapter 3 (note 12), Beethoven's correspondence with his publisher Breitkopf und Hartel in Leipzig and contributions by music critics provide a detailed account of how the score was to blend with and complement Goethe's text. Because of this cooperation, after 1810 the notion of adapting Egmont gained sharper focus: producers had to settle either for Goethe's original in five acts with Beethoven's score - for which it had been explicitly written - or for Schiller's adaptation in three acts without it. But we have already seen that the ingenuity of some directors even included a mixing of the two. Vienna's interest in Egmont from the perspective of Beethoven's music has an amusing modern parallel in the recent Bonn production (chapter 9). EGMONT IN

STUTTGART

As the capital of Schiller's homeland, and in close proximity to his birthplace of Marbach, Stuttgart took particular pride in producing the work of its departed son (conveniently ignoring the unpleasant circumstances under which the flight had occurred). One reviewer speaks of a version based on "die neue Bearbeitung Gothe's,"41 yet details from it show that the Duchess of Parma and Machiavell were absent, and another reviewer a year later decries the fact that what they saw was "durch Zuschneiden arg zugerichtet ... und eine solche Zurichtung schreibt man auf dem Theaterzettel unserm Schiller zu!!!"41 These and other reviews concentrate for the most part on a discussion of the actors' effectiveness, except for one which delivers lengthy insights into sets and staging: Gleich am Anfang, als Soldaten und Burger quer iiber die Biihne hiniiberschossen, so daf5 das Ziel hinter den Coulissen der andern Seite gedacht werden mufite, war meiner Phantasie der Raum zu eng, und sie hatte sich beim Lesen dieses alles viel welter, die Scene iiberhaupt viel lebendiger gedacht. Das Aehnliche kehrte am Anfang des funften Aktes wieder, wo Klarchen in der Nacht auf der Strafie die Burger zur Befreiung Egmonts ermuthigen will. Ueberhaupt fallt es der Einbildungskraft viel leichter, sich ein offentliches Leben, das Treiben, die Anliegen, die Furcht einer grofien Stadt, wie Briissel, zu denken, als der Kunst — dieses darzustellen, und eine Theaterdirektion hat oft alle Weisheit auf-

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zubieten, um auf dem beschrankten Raume und mit sparsamen Mitteln wenigstens durch Andeutungen an ein reiches Leben und grofie Bewegungen zu erinnern.43 Two fundamental problems underly this description. How many would agree today that it is easier for a reader of a play to imagine such scenes than to see them presented in a sophisticated manner on stage, or, even better, on the screen? On the one hand there is no question that the technical potential of both stage and screen could today create for viewers highly believable scenes of this type. On the other hand, the power of a suggestive text to feed a fertile imagination will always be virtually unlimited. The first problem here is the clash between the different modes of communication, literature and theatre. The reviewer expects mimetic realism on stage and finds what he sees inferior to the account he can read on his own, but what he read was in fact much further from the attempted realism he saw in the theatre, for a literary text uses only one range of signs to communicate that realism, the written symbols of language; all die rest is imagined by the reader. The same person, when confronted with a wide range of signs on stage, from language to gesture, costumes, sets, and lighting, surprisingly judges the realism inferior. As the range of signs increases, the incentive to imagine things declines, as does the sense of responsibility to do so. Whose fault is it that the scene is unrealistic? In this reviewers eyes it is certainly not the fault of the audience, but of those who construct the sign system on stage. How would he react to a minimalist stage rendition with no sets, scenes, or costumes, one in which the actors simply deliver the dramatic text? It is obvious from this review and others that staging, sets, costuming, and acting often did as much to jar audience members out of the mimetic illusion as they did to lull them into it, particularly in the larger public scenes that are the focus of this critique. They posed problems of spacing, blocking, perspective, and set design that more intimate scenes did not. This entire aspect was of course of great concern to Goethe in the development of his theatre aesthetics and practice, as I shall show in chapter 7 as well as in the final chapter on recent productions whete we will see how some directors addressed these problems in ways very similar to Goethe himself (e.g., the Weimar Egmont of 1979). EGMONT IN HAMBURG

The opening performance in the Stadttheater in Hamburg on I April 1815 was a doubly jubilant occasion. A proudly independent city had just been liberated from a decade of French occupation and the accomplished and beloved actor Friedrich Ludwig Schmidt (1772-1841) had just been appointed as codirector of that stage. That Egmont was chosen for this opening speaks for its status in Hamburg by this time.44 What was advertised as a "Trauerspiel in fiinf Akten von Goethe" was, according to one of its first reviewers, "nach des Verfassers Bearbeitung fur die Berliner Biihne und von der kiinstlichen Musik Beethovens

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Images of Goethe through Schiller's Egmont

begleitet."45 But as we saw in the Berlin materials, that "Bearbeitung" was in many ways far removed from Goethe's original. Still, Beethoven's music obviously accompanied the drama. The same reviewer gives a wealth of interesting information about the visual elements involved. Mile. Wrede's Klarchen received due praise, "nur war der Schnitt und die falschrothe Farbe (Amarant) ihres Kostums nicht gliicklich gewahlt, und wiirde schwarz, mit Weifi dekorirt, uberall und [wiirde] besonders in der herrlichen Scene mit dem in seiner reichen spanischen Grandezza sie besuchenden Geliebten von grofierer mahlerischer Wirkung gewesen seyn, als wie an seinen Knieen hingelagert nun die Farbe ihres Kleides mit der Scharlachfarbe seines prachtig gestickten Mantels widerlich abstach." This is a wonderfully vivid evocation of three important facets, Klarchen's persona, Egmont's grand entry as a Knight of the Golden Fleece, and her classic pose at his knee. This reviewer emphasized the importance of visual images to enhance the roles of Egmont and Klarchen. Just as arrestingly, Herr Kiihne as Alba portrayed a darkly convincing tyranny not just through the dialogue, but because he was "vom kahlen Scheitel bis zum klirrenden Sporn herab ganz der grafiliche Alba, dessen nur allzu ahnliches Abbild Deutschland seit vielen Jahren zu seiner Qua! kennen lernte, Hamburg in dem letzten zu seinem Verderben kannte, und das Publikum gleich bey Kiihne's erstem noch stummem Auftreten schaudernd wieder erkannte." This is a superb description. Albas very appearance transforms him not just into the image of the Spanish oppressor in Egmont, but into a visual symbol of the occupying forces whose departure now releases a jubilance in this city and a celebration on its stage. As far as the critical reaction to Egmont is concerned, direct connections between this so thoroughly political play and what was in fact going on right outside the stage doors are pitifully meagre in the reviews, partly because of the threat of the censor. The above account provides a truly grand exception and one that points to the political relevance of many modern productions. We are also treated to some insight into the technical handling of the dreamvision scene in Hamburg productions: Was die uberall mit vielen Schwierigkeiten verkniipfte Traum-Erscheinung Klarchens betrifrt, so gliickte sie auch hier nicht sonderlich, wenn gleich das Bild trefflich erleuchtet und hinter einem doppelten dann einfach verschwindenden Florvorhang, wie in einer lichten Nebelhiille, an sich selbst in der Oeffhung des dunkeln Hintergrundes von guter Wirkung war. Aber es war zu hoch tiber dem Ruhebette Egmonts und noch dazu aufrecht scehend. In halbliegender Stellung sichtbar und sich hinter dem Bette des Schlafenden auf einer Wolke erhebend, wiirde die Handlung und Bewegung der Figur so wie das Bild viel gewonnen haben: ungefahr so, wie Oeser die Titelvignette zum 5ten Bande der Goeche'schen Schriften in der Goschen'schen Ausgabe vom J. 1787 entworfen hat.4* Yet the production was without question a grand success in the eyes of this reviewer, who sums up die triumph with a human touch that can still evoke a

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smile: "Das Parterre ward davon so hingerissen, dafi es in seinem Entziicken am Schlufi Egmont - vom Henkerblock, und sein Klarchen aus ihrem Grabe hervorrief, um seine beyden Lieblinge zu beklatschen. Der brave Kiinstler verier dann auch iiber dem tumultuarischen Larm etwas die Tramontana, als er beym Hervortreten Mile. Wrede nicht allein damit entschuldigte, sie sey bereits zu Hause gegangen, sondern auch naiv hinzusetzte: 'Sie werde sich die Ehre auf ein andermal vorbehalten.'" Some reviews of later Hamburg productions cooled off considerably from this while others showed a similar enthusiasm. Later productions show some similarities with this first one, as well as some interesting variants. Of the version which premiered on 5 August 1818 we read: "die Bearbeitung in vier Acten, nach welcher es hier aufgefiihrt wird, scheint in der Hauptsache dieselbe zu seyn, welche Schiller noch fur die Weimarische Biihne, in Auftrag Gothe's, besorgt hat."47 It seems that a change of preference had occurred since 1815; moreover, there is no mention of Beethoven or of music of any kind. This lengthy review concentrates foremost on analysing the rhetorical technique of the actors, an ongoing concern of informed critics. A further performance on 28 August 1819 to honour Goethe's seventieth birthday resulted in several reviews, which for the most part lauded his literary genius instead of analysing the performance and described at length the prologue to honour "Deutschlands grofiten Dichter." This reviewer even goes so far as to add: "Es sollte wohl eigentlich keine Biihne in Deutschland gefunden worden seyn, auf welcher nicht dieser Geburtstag durch eine dramatische Vorstellung einer grofien oder kleinern Schopfung des grofien Dichters und durch einen angemessenen Prolog gefeiert worden ware, und jede Direktion, die es vergafi, oder aus engherzigen Beweggriinden unterliefi, 1st ihrem Publikum Rechenschaft schuldig wegen einer solchen Unterlassungssiinde."48 As Goethe's death approached, the production of his works was becoming almost an issue of national pride instead of a purely artistic one. Many theatres offered a Goethe play on August 28, many of diem Egmont, again a testimony to its stature in what could already be called a Goethean canon. From this time until our own, the question of separating artistic products and their merits from die iconized national idol who produced them becomes relevant. Hamburg's Egmont of 1824 was also produced "in der Gestalt, wie er von Schiller spater fur das Theater bearbeitet worden," and from further details of his description it seems indeed to be the 1796 Weimar version.49 This reviewer also belongs very much to the text-based school, lamenting the adaptations, especially the change of the vision to Egmont's mimed dream, and recommending to those who attend "noch besser eine gute Vorlesung dieses herrlichen Trauerspiels." A great deal of time is spent as well on a close analysis of the actors' performances in light of Goethe's text. The 1827 production seems to have found a middle ground between Goethe and Schiller, having once more four acts and Beethoven's music. This again was a gala performance, with Egmont chosen to

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Images of Goethe through Schiller's Egmont

open Carl Friedrich Schinkel's (1781-1841) newly designed theatre on the Dammtorstrafie. Because of this, the reviews contain information about the theatre's interior and audience, which tells much about the contemporary theatre scene: Die Hohe des Saales, seine Pracht, und die glanzende Beleuchtung gewahren beim Eintritt einen imposanten Anblick. Vier Gallerien erheben sich in unbeengten Zwischenraumen iibereinander und tragen sich selbst, man sieht keine Saule im ganzen Hause, auch vom Parkett aus nicht die Scheidewande der Logen. Diese sind nicht ausgeschweift wie im alten Hause, sondern ohne Unterbrechung laufen die reichverzierten Range in einem schonen Bogen herum und verhindern dadurch bei der hochsten Eleganz die Ueberladung. Ein einziger Kronleuchter erhellt alles, so dai? man in den entlegensten Winkeln ohne Miihe den Comodienzettel lesen kann. Die Vbrderplatze in den ersten beiden Rangen waren bei der heutigen Vorstellung nur von Damen besetzt, in den hoheren Rangen waren die Reihen schon bunter und es war ein besonders schoner Anblick, das ganze Haus so gefullt zu sehen.50

This is a theatre of elegance, in social terms not much removed from the hierarchichal interior arrangement of edifices in baroque times, with distinct portions dominated by distinct classes of people and levels of wealth. The beauty of the construction itself was appreciated as an important part of the aesthetic experience, and at least on this night probably more important than the play. Special attention is given to the massive candelabra illuminating the gathering. It had the immensely practical function of allowing audience members to read their programs — for the die-hards also their originals of Goethe's text — but more importantly it allowed everyone to see everyone else, and what a splendid position has been arranged for the ladies in the front rows! Propped up in their finery, they are evidently willing showpieces of the men who escorted them, now seated further back. We cannot overestimate the power of social interactions beyond the proscenium. EGMONT IN FRANKFURT

The largest group of reviews in the Fambach corpus deals with productions in Goethe's home town. Reviewers had forgotten Eckardt/Koch's Frankfurt Egmont of 15 May 1789 when they called the production of 23 April 1821 a premiere for that city. But they did have a point - it is surprising that Egmont took so long to regain a footing. The 1789 version was, with only minor changes, the same production as that which premiered in Mainz, along with its "Verstummelungen" and the other peculiarities already discussed (Pfeiffer-Belli, 82—3). Reviews of the play's first Frankfurt revival in 1821 indicate at the start that it was performed basically in Goethe's version, as before, but now with Beethoven's music. Still, as we have learned about similar claims regarding Goethe's version in other cities, the constellation Goethe/Beethoven spawned

141 Reflections of the Text in Performance many mutants. In at least some of the productions, for instance, in 1825, "Margaretha von Parma, Machiavell blieben unsichtbar,"51 and in others, "war ohnediei? darin schon vieles gestrichen."'1 Pfeiffer-Belli reacts with outraged indignation at the "rucksichtslose Textverstiimmelung, die man damals klassischen Werken zuteil werden liefi. Die Schillersche Vergewaltigung geniigte dem Frankfurter Regisseur scheinbar noch nicht" (87).a Modern directors facing similar charges (as we shall see in chapter 9) are thus in good historical company. One major advantage to performing Schiller's adaptation, at least in the eyes of the general public, was that it did not last as long, but their expressed satisfaction - "Wir fanden es angenehm, dafi wir um 9 das Schauspielhaus verlassen konnten" - is summarily condemned by Pfeiffer-Belli as "eine Verbeugung vor dem spiefibiirgerlichen genius loci, der die Kunst zwingt, sich lokalen Sitten anzubequemen" (92). He was of the same generation and frame of mind as Eugen Kilian, and, as we shall see in chapter 9, even as some haughty thespians today. The performance of 7 April 1827 is reviewed as "Egmont. Trauerspiel in fiinf Aufziigen, von Gothe, mit Musik von Beethoven," yet it is then described as "Gothe's Egmont, in der Gestalt, wie er von Schiller spater fur das Theater bearbeitet worden," the adaptation roundly criticized by one reviewer, who nevertheless adds: "Dieser Mangel ungeachtet, deren theatralische Nothwendigkeit ich nie [habe] einsehen konnen, ja die mir immer als eine unbegreifliche Versiindigung gegen den Geist der Poesie erschienen sind, habe ich dennoch die Auffiihrung Egmont's nicht versaumen mogen."54 A reviewer of Egmont there three years later laments the cuts, yet at the same time sees their wisdom: "Die einsichtsvolle Weise, mit welcher die Abkiirzungen in diesem Stiicke vorgenommen wurden, hat, wenn wir auch gestehen, da£ jedes hinweggelassene Wort eine Siinde ist, dennoch die Handlung keinen wesendichen Nachtheil gebracht. "5S Another reviewer of the same performance views the revisions in a broader light: "Wie sehr die Meisterwerke grofier Dichter durch die Scheere des Theaterschneiders meistens verlieren, ist bekannt. Indessen ist dieses Beschneiden nun einmal ein nothwendiges Uebel geworden, da Biihne und Publikum nicht sind, wie sie seyn sollten und wir wollen es uns gefallen lassen, lieber jene Meisterwerke arrangirt und zusammengedriickt, als gar nicht zu sehen."56 The practice of adaptation was obviously by diis time common for virtually all productions, but the notion that this might indeed enhance the work in performance instead of detract from it still remains beyond the scope of this, and most other reviewers. It is accepted as inevitable, but seen as a weakness shared by the public and all those associated with the theatre production. At this point the suggestion that the main problems lie in the text itself is rarely made, nor does the idea occur that original text and live performance are in some ways mutually incompatible. This large body of critical reaction to the Frankfurt productions comments on several issues beyond the question of adaptation, specifically, staging and

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Images of Goethe through Schiller's Egmont

costume, acting personnel and technique, the literary and historical qualities of Egmont, and its place in the canon of German dramatic literature. With regard to the first, a reviewer of the 182,1 premiere saw the visual elements as one of the highlights: "mehrere Decorationen waren neu gefertigt, die Costume mit historischer Treue angeordnet und die Scenen mit Sorgfalt, besonders die Traumerscheinung mit grofier Wirkung vollfiihrt."57 Such attention to the visual elements of production was increasing on most stages, as we have seen in some other centres. A review of the performance on 5 September 1828 praises the sets and crowd scenes extensively, specifically the depiction of daily life in the Netherlands,58 and this review of a production near the end of Goethe's life seems to have the visual elements high on its list of desiderata: Mehr Sorgfalt fur die Costumes, verschiedartigere Lichtfarben in den Anziigen der in der Wirthsschenke versammelten Burger (erste Scene) bei malerischer Gruppirung derselben, die ohne berechnet zu scheinen, sich in alien Stellungen und Bewegungen zeigen mufi, und, ohne pedantisch verfolgt zu werden, in alien folgenden Volksscenen zu beachten sind, liefert die herrliche Dichtung zugleich vorziiglichen Stoff zu den anziehendsten niederlandischen Bildern. Wenn noch aufierdem mehr flir die bessere Wahl der Decorationen, zeitgemafier und den Situationen angemessenere Ameublierung und sorgsamer Ausschmuckung iiberhaupt, geschieht, so gewinnt die Vorstellung in plastischer und scenarischer Hinsicht sehr bedeutend. Am nachtheiligsten wirkt hierauf beim Schlul? der fast undurchdringliche Dampf, welchen das griechische Feuer erzeugt, der Egmont, Klarchen und sammtliche Umgebungen in Finsternifi hiillt, und nicht so, als zeige sich ein guter Geist, der himmlische Blumendiifte, nein, als sey Mephistopheles erschienen, und habe den Vorschmack der Holle - Siindenpfuhl und Schwefeldampf, verbreitet.'9

Although this odorous staging of the dream vision was evidently more in tune with Faust than Egmont, one must appreciate both the obvious successes in costuming, colouring, meaningful blocking, and stage arrangement, and the general sense that the text delivers potential for the stage rather than a precise blueprint for purely verbal reenactment. This is a highly unusual passage among critiques at the time. The reviewer is constructive in suggesting that even more attention to sets and props will improve the production further, which is a very long way from the frequent complaints that the original text was cut or mangled, or that the actors failed to deliver their parts the way the master intended. The sense shown here of the importance of harmonious staging and visual effects points directly to Goethe's own theatre aesthetics in Weimar. Most of the Frankfurt reviews give considerable attention to individual actors' performances, as was the case in other venues. They run the gamut from full praise of favourite company stars, such as Johann Heinrich Christian Ludwig Becker (1764-1822), or guests such as Ferdinand Lowe (1787-1832) from Mannheim, both as Egmont, to a thorough panning of the entire cast in the words of Germany's first professional theatre critic: " 'Wir haben Schauspieler

143 Reflections of the Text in Performance aber keine Schauspielkunst.' Dies Lessingsche dictum mochten wir, von der heutigen Darstellung redend, umgekehrt anwenden. Wer unter den Leistungen unserer Schauspieler eine Kunstschopfung zu finden wahnte, irrte sich grausam; leset den Egmont lieber noch einmal in den alten Ausgaben durch, lasset euch von eurer Phantasie ein Ideal cures Helden malen - aber euer Geld sparet fur die Sieben Madchen in Uniform."60 Despite the sarcasm of the reviewer, it is an interesting thought from our perspective that the German stage now did have a "Schauspielkunst" — a formal, recognized methodology for actors, but nobody with enough talent to put it into force. Had some German dramatic writers, Goethe among them, by now outdistanced the actors who were trying to perform their plays? The comment is also interesting in its reference to "den alten Ausgaben," from which we see a definite historical distancing from the origins of Egmont. Why the "old" editions? After all, new editions of Goethe's works were appearing regularly, for example Cotta editions of Goethe's Werke in 1807 and 1816. This betrays the reviewer's categorizing of Egmont and its author as a play and a poet of a previous generation — Goethe for him was dead even before 1832. Frankfurt reviewers occasionally go into detail about acting technique. A lengthy critique in 1828 spends most of its several pages on this, yet laments the actors' inclination, "das fur declamatorische Effecte allzu empfangliche Publicum durch falsche Mittel zum Applaus zu reizen."6' "Hamming it up" was still very much a part of performance, but the freedom to interpret the role had its positive side as well: "Als Alba, nachdem er Oraniens Brief gelesen, zu Ende des folgenden Selbstgesprachs, an das Fenster tritt und Egmonts Ankunft verkiindet, fuhr Herr Rottmayer im Hintergrunde weilend, erschrocken zusammen und gab damit sehr richtig seine Theilnahme an dem Geschick des ftirstlichen Helden zu erkennen. Der Dichter hat diesen Zug nicht angedeutet, weshalb wir ihn als Eigenthum des darstellenden Kunstlers und als begriindet in dem sich spater ganz enthiillenden Charakter Ferdinands, anerkennen und riihmen."61 This is a rare glimpse of the idea that actors could indeed enhance and improve upon the text delivered to their hands, and it suggests at least in this case less tension between the text and the reality of performance. Almost always, criticism of actors was founded on observations such as this: "Herr Becker [in a guest performance] gab den Egmont. Nun hat er uns zwar einen vorziiglichen Egmont gegeben, allein den von Gothe ganz und gar nicht."63 Another rare exception to the prejudice that actors should render the roles only as Goethe intended, comes from a Dresden review, where the critic writes: "Ich habe die Behauptung gehort, der Charakter der Klarchen sei hier von dem groKen Dichter verzeichnet, mit nichten! die Kiinstlerinn halte nur den Charakter fest."64 As regards the performance of the lead role in Egmont, Iffland's original in Weimar remained for many an actor and experienced critic the model. More than twenty years after the event, in theatres far removed from either Weimar or Berlin, where he achieved the pinnacle of his fame, Iffland's Egmont v/ss a yardstick,

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Images of Goethe through Schiller's Egmont

and Bottigers account of it the evidence. Frankfurt was no exception to this practice. "Wir miifiten uns sehr irren," writes a critic in 1821, "wenn nicht Hr. Becker bei dem Studium seiner Rolle die Abhandlung, welche Bottiger iiber Iffland's Darstellung des Egmont in Weimar mit scharf psychologischer Auseinandersetzung uns gegeben, zur Hand gehabt hat."65 We will have an opportunity to look at that prototype more carefully when we consider the actors role in greater detail in chapter 6. Although the Frankfurt reviews pay a great deal of attention to costumes, staging, and acting, the most striking aspect about them, and one which seems to set them apart from those in other cities, is their exhaustive discussions of Egmont as a work of literature. At least six of the reviews include essays of up to twelve pages in length, extending over several consecutive issues of theatre journals, on the literary aesthetics of Egmont, on Goethe and Schiller, and on the play's historical sources and significance. Many other reviews have shorter sections on the same themes.66 Despite their length, there is relatively little in these essays to help us understand the nature of Egmont m relation to audiences of the day. They are essays for literary scholars alone, forerunners of generations of similarly minded critics, who are interested primarily in dramatic literature, not in drama as theatre. They are the predecessors of the Germanists of the nineteenth century and the parents of many in our own. Occasionally, there is a refreshing aside, as in this interruption of a meticulous and gruesome account of the historical facts of Egmont s capture and death: Was sagen die Leser dazu, dafi wir sie mit Gewalt zu einem Schauspiel herangezogen haben, das der Dichter weise in eine vorbereitende, riihrende Erzahlung verbarg. Verdienen wir nicht den Vorwurf, den wir jenen Criminalisten der Biihne oft machten, jetzt selbst? Haben wir nicht eine Neugierde gereizt, welche den nackten Genufi am Grafilichsten, eine Folterkammer des Gefuhls zum Gegenstande hat? - Wir hoffen, nein. Wir wollten den Dichter in dem Portrait seines Helden bis auf die Spuren der letzten Morgenahnungen verfolgen, um zu sehen, wo er verschonern und verschweigen durfte, wo nicht; und wir wollen dieses noch naher, indem wir - ohne bei einem so interessanten Gegenstande Ueberdrufi zu besorgen - das Portrait, das Schiller in dem Verlauf der niederlandischen Geschichte mit so viel Besdmmtheit und MenschenkenntniE entwirft, ganz dem Leser vor Augen stellen.67

This observer seems oblivious to the fact that "der nackte Genuf? am GraSlichsten" and "eine Folterkammer des Gefuhls" are exactly the type of things that many audiences like best. The Frankfurt material shows best of all that by the end of Goethe's life, Egmont and his works as a whole were suffering from a case of deja-vu, and at the same time from what in recent times has been called "deja-lu," since for so many critics Goethe's original text continued to be the main yardstick for evaluation and thus to dominate performances. Perhaps one should even add "deja-

145 Reflections of the Text in Performance entendu," for audiences also seemed to take litde notice any more of Beethoven's symphonic accompaniment: "Beethovens herrliche Musik hat hier viele Verehrer: nur scheinen sie nicht heute gegenwartig gewesen zu sein, denn in den Zwischenakten wurde dermaafien conversirt und gelarmt, als ob ein gewohnlicher Entreact heruntergearbeitet werde."68 The sense of "deja-vu/lu/ entendu" was so much the case that we begin to read at the beginning of reviews statements like: "Den fruheren mitgetheilten Ansichten iiber dies Gothe'sche Trauerspiel, so wie iiber dessen Auffiihrung auf hiesiger Biihne, haben wir fur heute nichts hinzufugen"; or: "Von dem Stiicke selbst hier wiederholt zu reden, wiirde ein wenig zu spat kommen. Wer las es nicht, wer sari es nicht!" or: "Es ist liber dieses herrliche Erzeugnifi der Muse unsers Go the schon so viel gesagt und geschrieben worden, da8 sich wohl nicht leicht etwas Neues hinzufugen liefie."69 Such opening statements, of course, did not prevent any of these critics from going on at considerable length about Egmont and Goethe in general. Finally, by 1831, we have an outright admission that everyone in Frankfurt is tired of the thing: "Egmont ... ist zwar ein herrliches Werk, aber wir haben es hier schon zu oft gesehen und der Mensch gewohnt sich auch an das Schonste bis zur Gleichgiiltigkeit."70 Already a year earlier another reviewer had pointed out that "das Haus sehr leer war."71 What reviewers almost never failed to call a classic by Germany's "greatest" poet had become tired and dull, a piece incapable of drawing a crowd. This theatrical dead end cannot be left without a brief aside in the form of what is in my view the most entertainingly enthusiastic review in the entire corpus, also written near the end of Goethe's life. A reviewer in Braunschweig writes: Goethe's Genie rief mit aller Liebe dies Klarchen in's Leben, des Dichters Jugendtraum erhielt Gestalt und die liebenswiirdigste, reinste Natur lachelt uns in ihr entgegen. Die junge Friihlingsknospe, von dem Kusse der Liebe getroffen, offnet ihren Kelch und, alle ihre Diifte umflattern, gleich kosenden Genien, den Geliebten. Und welch' ein Fonds liegt im Innern soldi' einer reinen Natur! ... Coquetten und Ihr, die Ihr durch das Alter, nicht durch die Weihe Jungfrauen genannt werdet und Ihr, die gegenseitiges Interesse zu Frauen gemacht, die Ihr den Goethe kritisirt, well es Mode est, die Ihr Euch bei dem Lesen des "Egmont" zu einer Begeisterung forcirt, die Eurem Innern fremd, konnt Ihr die unbegrenzte Welt der Liebe mit Eurem Gefiihle umfassen, die in Klarchens Worten liegt, mit denen sie dem Vorwurf der Mutter begegnet ... Lebte dieses Madchen in der Wirklichkeit, Ihr wiirdet sie eine Dime schelten, doch das ist ein Gliick des Kiinstlers, daE Ihr von den Bluthen seiner Weihestunden den Staub nicht wegblasen konnt, und dafi Ihr dem Schonen huldigen miifit, weil doch der Schein Euch Alles gilt.72 Another critic responded the following day with "Lacheln Sie ... lacheln Sie iiber den alten Knaben, der da zu schwarmen anfangt, wo er kritisiren soil."73 However we might laugh about the devotion of the first reviewer, he or she

146 Images of Goethe through Schiller's Egmont reminds us that Goethe still had his loyal fans, even if they were decreasingly among audience members and more often found in the ranks of aging critics. In conclusion, what attracts and concerns these reviewers and the audiences of which they were part, is evident from the things they chose to write about, the historical reality which the public in Goethe's time saw in Egmont. They include the effectiveness of the actors, the extratextual visual elements (costumes, scenic groupings and sets), the various social relationships involved in the theatrical experience (actor-audience, actor-critic, critic-critic, members of the audience among themselves), and Goethe's image as a creative artist, along with his literary legacy. The next chapters will explore these points of emphasis further. On the question of adaptation, it is clear that it is never simply a matter of Goethe's or Schiller's version, but rather some practical and accommodating hybrid. In a sense, one could say that Goethe's Egmont-was never performed in his lifetime, a statement I will be able to expand to has never been performed\yy the end of this book. This justifies our emphasis on the very flexible and ambiguous text reproduced in chapter 2. Text simply did not have primacy on the stage, the efficacy of performance did. The public may have read along in some theatres and clucked at the omissions and distortions, able of course to read them in the splendidly lit house, but it was the actors and directors, and the censors as well, who chose in the end what they would see and hear. These actors had egos which transcended the text, causing them to ham and preen, often forgetting their primary responsibility to represent the role to which they had been assigned. While most reviewers criticize the actors, few had the knowledge to go into technical detail, despite the suggestion in the Frankfurt reviews that a technical standard called "Schauspielkunst" actually existed. Reviewers still plagued actors with the demand that they act their roles as the master had intended, and the critical applause for innovation of which we saw flashes in Frankfurt and Dresden is sparse indeed. Many an audience was after all more interested in the charm and allure of the stars, in Lowe's apparently enticing physique, for example, than their artistic interpretation, much as Hollywood makes use of "sex symbols" today. It is interesting also to read the comments on the sets, costumes, and visual properties in many locations, especially Mannheim, Frankfurt/Main, and Leipzig. Was Goethe's influence already apparent, or were these and other like-minded theatres who strove for multidimensional, harmonious productions on a path parallel to his in Weimar? Do we perhaps give Goethe more credit than he deserves for the way he developed the harmony of theatrical production there? Finally, the problem of the "classic" work by the "greatest poet" forces us two centuries later to address the question of relevance for our time, in aesthetic, political, and practical terms. As Goethe had become an icon even before his death, and both he and his works had begun to suffer from a syndrome of "deja-vu/lu/entendu," it is curious to note that exactly the same problem has permeated criticism in the last two decades of our own century. When will we

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Reflections of the Text in Performance

decide if we have had enough of Goethe and that his relevance has ceased? Not yet, at least - which must say something for what his works still have to offer. Although (with the exception of one example cited from Hamburg) none of the Egmont reviews in the Fambach corpus has anything to say about the play's contemporary political relevance, this is exactly the point that is central for productions in Germany from 1970 to the present day, a matter I shall address in chapter 9.

5 Text and Image

Text comes alive through theatrical performance. It is transformed into sounds which must have meaning to an audience as it decodes them according to a familiar linguistic system and attaches referents or associations, some of which are common to most, others shared by fewer, still others meaningful only to individuals. The playwright's process of text creation is the manipulation of this referential process to invoke both common and individual associations. Such manipulation is most successful through direct, unpoetic language and well known images, but the result of such extreme coding precision is a drastic limitation of associations and facile theatre without lasting attraction. Indirect, poetically referential language on the other hand increases the range of associations and produces a complexity which ensures a lasting audience for dramatic works such as Egmont. The text of Egmont is dramatized history, with references to events and actions, causes and effects, the relevance of which would have been shared by contemporary audiences. They could have read about them in the sources Goethe himself used, Emmanuel van Meteren's (1535—1612) HISTORIA, Oder Eigentliche und wahrhaffie Beschreibung aller fiirnehmen Kriegshandel (German edition, Arnheim 1604) and Famianus Strada (1572-1649), DE BELLO BELGICO (1578); or in Schiller's own Geschichte des Abfalls der vereinigten Niederlande von der Spanischen Regierung, published in the same year as Egmont(1788). Modern audiences can turn to these or to a host of more recent historical treatments, such as John Motley's The Rise of the Dutch Republic. A History (1900) or the materials included in Max von Briick's edition of the play (1969). But despite many real connections to the historical facts, Goethe's play is in the end a dramatic fiction on an historical base. So, from the rational, causal, historical base there emerges a patchwork of images whose purpose is not to depict

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Text and Image

history, but to stimulate other, less precisely understandable, associations in the audience's mind. This chapter will explore some of the more important types of images in the text of Egmont and the role they play in defining and depicting the characters. There are first of all literary images, metaphors, which I shall examine as "Image in Text." Then, under "Character Framing," I shall explore how characters as multifacetted units become part of a different type of image that supersedes the purely literary and crystallizes in the "Image as Icon." This is further expanded in "Scene Framing" to consider how images connect in dramatic sequence yet retain a visual base as their unifying component. Finally, I shall look closely at what has always been the most controversial image of this play, the "Vision" of Klarchen at the end. I M A G E I N TEXT 1

The rich variety of images in Egmont's text has two points of focus, war and nature. Buyk's graphic description of the Lowlands' history sets off the first associations: Gravelingen! Freunde! da gieng's frisch! Den Sieg haben wir allein. Brannten und sengten die walschen Hunde nicht dutch ganz Flandern? Aber ich meyne, wir trafen sie! Ihre alten handfesten Kerle hielten lange wieder, und wir drangten und schossen und hieben, da sie die Mauler verzerrten und ihre [17] Linien zuckten. ... Da ging's! Rick! Rack! heriiber, hiniiber! Alles todtgeschlagen, alles ins Wasser gesprengt. Und die Kerle ersoffen wie sie das Wasser schmeckten; ... Was nun noch durchbrach, schlugen Euch auf der Flucht die Bauerweiber mit Hacken und Mistgabeln codt.

Despite Buyk's patriotism and jubilation in victory, what remains foremost in our minds are the hacked bodies, the drowning masses, the vicious pitchfork pursuit, and the overall glorification of slaughter. The image of man is a savage, and Jetter speaks for many who are shocked into doubting the value of such triumph: Krieg! Krieg! Wi(?t ihr auch, was Ihr ruft? Dal? es euch leicht vom Munde geht, ist wohl natiirlich; wie lumpig aber unser einem dabey zu Muthe ist, kann ich nicht sagen. Das ganze Jahr das Getrommel zu horen; und nidus zu horen, als wie da ein Haufen gezogen kommt, und da ein anderer, wie sie tiber einen Hugel kamen, und [28] bey einer Miihle hielten, wie viel da geblieben sind, wie viel dort, und wie sie sich drangen, und einer gewinnt, der andere verliert, ohne daf? man sein' Tage begreift, wer was gewinnt oder verliert. Wie eine Stadt eingenommen wird, die Burger ermordet werden, und wie's den armen Weibern, und unschuldigen Kindern ergeht. Das ist eine Noth und Angst, man denkt jeden Augenblick: "Da kommen sie! es geht uns auch so."2

This is the horrible reality behind Buyk's cry of victory, a repetitive senselessness that only serves to create an atmosphere of apprehension and fear, an atmosphere

150

Images of Goethe through Schiller's Egmont

that afflicts all the characters in the play and sets the tone to the end. Most importantly it underlies Egmont's character, as we see early on in his conversation with Oranien: Denk' an die Stadte, die Edeln, das Volck, an die Handlung, [103] den Feldbau, die Gewerbe! und denke die Verwustung, den Mord! - Ruhig sieht der Soldat wohl im Felde seinen Kameraden neben sich niederfallen; aber den Flufi herunter werden dir die Leichen der Biirger, der Kinder, der Jungfrauen entgegen schwimmen, daf? du mit Entsetzen da stehst, und nicht mehr weifit, wessen Sache du vertheidigst; da die zu Grunde gehen, fur deren Freyheit du die Waffen ergreifst.

Egmont uses the same images as Buyk, but combines them with the insight of Jetter. Central to both are the river's waters, which carry a timeless symbolic connotation as life's regenerating force, but also the classical association with the Styx's division between life and death. This central natural image is grotesquely combined with that of man as his victims' corpses choke the river's flow. I am reminded of Gryphius's powerful scene of cataclysm a century earlier: Hier durch die schantz und Stadt/rint alzeit frisches blutt. Dreymall sindt schon sechs jahr als unser strome flutt Von so viel leichen schwer/sich langsam fortgedrungen. ("Threnen des Vatterlandes/Anno 1636," i, 48)

These speeches were also a challenge for actors to deliver, as this Hamburg reviewer's complaint shows: "Zum Schlufi erinnern wir nur, dafi die treffliche Schilderung, welche Egmont zu Oranien von den Mordscenen des Kriegs entwirft, wo eine verstandige, durch weise Mittel Wirkung erzeugende Declamation so schon sich bewahren kann, nur alltaglich, ohne Steigerung der Stimme und der Gemiithsbewegung vorgetragen wurde und darum fast alien ihren Werth verier."3 In contrast, a Frankfurt critic quotes almost the entire speech in his glowing review of the performance by "Becker" (presumably Johann Heinrich Christian Ludwig Becker, 1764—1822): "Bedeutungsvoll, ernst und nicht mit jener alltaglichen Steigerung auf der bekannten Tonleiter theatralischer Declamation, sprach unser werther Gast die Worte."4 The text of Egmont at the start is so indelibly imprinted with this image of war that it underlies every action and reaction of the occupying forces and the citizens later on. Deserted streets are populated silently by eerie ghosts from the river and the entire city becomes a deserted battlefield: "Die Stadt sieht einem Felde ahnlich, wenn das Gewitter von weitem leuchtet; man erblickt keinen Vogel, kein Thier, als das eilend nach einem Schutzorte schlupft" [Ferdinand, 194]. Humans are linked to the natural world by taking on the character of animals, both in dieir savagery and in their fundamental need for protection. The image of war becomes a metaphor for human existence and human nature, a dark,

151 Text and Image threatening force which undermines its own needs and violates its very self. Many times the link between human events and the rhythm of the universe is underscored, as in Jetter's "Ich wittre den Geruch von einem Exekutionsmorgen; die Sonne will nicht hervor, die Nebel stinken" [118], signaling a pathetic fallacy to accompany the action from this early point to the end. Egmont's demise becomes an eclipse of nature — "Ihr Schicksal wird sie [das Volk] wie eine wohl berechnete Sonnenfinsternif? piinktlich und schrecklich treffen," says Silva [190] — an eclipse without end in which the night and the power of darkness hold sway over the forces of light and life. The metaphorical transfer from images of war to images of nature expands the realm of associations in the play from the purely historical to the timeless, so that the struggle of Egmont and his people against Alba, Philipp n, and Spain becomes a metaphor for human struggle and human predicament in may lands, in many ages. At this level, the characters could be replaced by others, but the interrelated network of natural images would have to remain. Beyond the symbol of the river and the essential interplay between darkness and light, two further natural images stand out, the tree and the horse, both of which transcend the realm of metaphor to become symbols, that is, physically precise images representing abstractions meaningful for the play as well as for human experience beyond it. When in the face of death Egmont fully comprehends his situation, it is the tree that gives his reflections meaning: "Ich fuhl's, es ist der Klang der Mordaxt, die sich der Wurzel meines Leibes naht. Ja sie iiberwindet, die verratherische Gewalt. Sie untergrabt den festen hohen Stamm, und eh' die Rinde dorrt, stiirzt krachend und zerschmettert deine Krone" [260]. The tree symbolizes Egmont's life, and its fall, his death. It is also the death of their state as the citizens have known it. The image has four parts, roots, stem, bark, and crown. As the death blow is struck, the organism collapses, "eh! die Rinde dorrt," not with drying age, but in full bloom. The image is not of uprooting, but of violent decapitation, of blood-letting, of flowing sap — it is the spilling of blood that "untergrabt den festen hohen Stamm," causing "die Krone," not the tree itself, to come crashing down.5 This savage hacking of a living body parallels the images of war with which the play began, and now blood has become central, blood flowing as life's spring, blood spurting wasted on the ground. As the tree's sap oozes into the earth, so does Egmont's life-blood, and with it the blood of his people, an atrophy of nature which Klarchen unwittingly foresees: "Heut steht die Welt auf einmal still; es stockt ihr Kreislauf" [252]. Long before Egmont's realization of his fate, Alba sees the likely outcome of their confrontation. Hearing his visitor arrive, he wonders aloud: "Trug dich dein Pferdt so leicht herein, und scheute vor dem Blutgeruche nicht, und vor dem Geiste mit dem blanken Schwert, der an der Pforte dich empfangt? - Steig ab! - So bist du mit dem einen Fufi im Grabe und so mit beyden! - J streichl' es nur, und klopfe fur seinen muthigen Dienst zum letzten mal den Nacken ihm" [203]. Alba associates the motif of blood with Egmont through

152 Images of Goethe through Schiller's Egmont his horse, half expecting the animal's instinct to protect its rider from the spectre of the executioner and the impending release of blood through his sword. Sardonically, he savours the animal's failure, nature's failure, to rescue Egmont, wondering at Egmont's gratitude to the creature who has unwittingly betrayed him. The horse conveys Egmont to his death, and thus symbolizes a catastrophic failure of nature to protect him. We recall Egmont's early conversation with Richard in which he makes this curious mythological reference: " Wie von unsichtbaren Geistern zerpeitscht, gehen die Sonnenpferdte der Zeit mit unsers Schicksals leichten Wagen durch; und uns bleibt nichts, als muthig gefafit, die Ziigel fest zu halten, und bald rechts bald links, vom Steine hier, [81] vom Sturze da, die Rader wegzulenken." The image evoked is the myth of Phaeton, son of the sun god Helios, who foolishly insisted on driving the sun chariot and thereby nearly brought catastrophe on the earth. Such in the end is Egmont's own steed as he carries his rider to death at the hands of forces beyond his control.6 Horses are prominent diroughout the play, and Egmont repeatedly associated with them. In battle, "Da ward Egmont das Pferdt unter dem Leibe niedergeschossen," says Buyk, "und wir stritten lange hiniiber, heriiber, Mann fur Mann, Pferdt gegen Pferdt" [17]. Egmont, in times of peace spends, "Den ganzen Tag von einem Pferdt aufs andere [Silva, 191]," and Ferdinand's admiring impressions began when Egmont came "mit einigen auf den Markt [196] geritten; wir griifiten uns; er hatte ein rohes Pferdt, daS ich ihm loben mufite. 'Lafit uns eilen, Pferdte zuzureiten; wir werden sie bald brauchen!' rief er mir entgegen" — a call that results in Egmont's offer of the horse to Ferdinand soon after [220]. In the final act, Klarchen describes Egmont's grand entries on horseback before the people of the town, scenes which never failed to bring daily activities to a standstill as the townfolk rushed to greet their hero: "wenn der Ruf ihn ankiindigte, wenn es hiefi: 'Egmont kommt! Er kommt von Gent!' Da hielten die Bewohner der StraKen sich gliicklich, durch die er reiten mufite. Und wenn ihr seine Pferde schallen hortet, warf jeder seine Arbeit hin, und iiber die bekummerten Gesichter, die Ihr [233] durchs Fenster stecktet, fuhr wie ein Sonnenstrahl von seinem Angesichte ein Blick der Freude und Hoffnung." Clearly, the image of the horse is multidimensional. It is associated with knighthood and valour. It is also a connection between the man and the people, between the man and his surrogate son, and between the man and the natural forces of nature. As a result of Egmont's love of this animal and the peoples identification of him with it, the horse also becomes the play's most bitter image. Those who rushed to cheer his grand entrances, who dropped their work and hoisted their children aloft, desert him in the end. The son who was ready to turn his back on a brutal father betrays Egmont and rejoins the dark circle. In the fateful visit to Alba, the horse's natural instincts fail to warn Egmont of the blood-letting to come, delivering its rider to the executioner. Egmont's early allusion to Phaeton is completed by Alba's clear perception of the forces in control: "Ich sehe Geister vor mir, die still und sinnend auf schwarzen Schalen

153 Text and Image das Geschick der Fiirsten und vieler Tausenden wagen. Langsam wankt das Ziinglein auf, und, tief scheinen die Richter zu sinnen; zuletzt sinkt diese Schale, steigt jene, angehaucht vom Eigensinn des Schicksals, und entschieden ist's" [194]. From diis point on, Egmont cannot be saved. Phaetons chariot has been turned by the spirits surrounding it, and the horse follows their call, not the way of its master.7 CHARACTER FRAMING

Awaiting Egmont's arrival, Alba reflects: Ist's rathlich, die andern zu fangen, wenn Er mir entgeht? - Schieb' ich es auf, und laE Egmont mit den Seinigen, mit so [203] vielen entschlupfen, die nun, vielleicht nur heute noch in meinen Handen sind. So zwirtgt dich das Geschick derm auch, du Unbezwinglicher. Wie lange gedacht! wie wohl bereitet! wie grofi, wie schon der Plan! Wie nah die HofFnung ihrem Ziele! Und nun im Augenblick des Entscheidens bist du zwischen zwey Ubel gestellt, wie in einen Loostopf greifst du in die dunkle Zukunft; was du fafiest ist noch zugerollt, dir unbewufit, seys TrefFer oder Fehler! Er wird aufmerksam, wie einer, der etwas ban, und tritt aw Fenster. Er ist es! - Egmont! Albas soliloquy shows a man in dialogue. He is first interrogator and respondent with the question and supposition - "Ist's rathlich ... Schieb' ich es auf," - then abandons die rhetorical framework of the first person to analyse himself from an external perspective: "So zwingt dich das Geschick denn auch, du Unbezwinglicher," the "ich" becoming "du," the "du" becoming the concretized "Unbezwinglicher." With the next sentence, this external perspective is broadened through a suddenly sovereign overview: "Wie lange gedacht! ... wie schon der Plan!" - after which the speaker returns to focus on himself, but now with an increased objectivity and understanding. The "Loostopf" metaphor, the unwitting grasping of what is simply "zugerollt," remains as the determinant of his action. Like Egmont, Alba sees himself as a child of uncertainty who cannot fully control the outcome of his plan. His soliloquy here is an example of creating more than one framework of speech, of playing multiple roles, as Erving Goffman has described it. There are four of them here: Alba the interrogator, the respondent, the external commentator, and the sovereign observer, a series of frameworks in which he sees himself, in other words a process of frame analysis (Goffman s term). Albas self-analysis is symptomatic for the way in which characters see themselves in the play. Consider for example Brackenburg's desperate soliloquy: Sie erkennt mich nicht mehr - ich erkenne mich selbst nicht mehr - aber von Ihr sollte ich diesen Vorwurf nicht horen! - [146] Ungliicklicher! So wenig riihrt dich der Jammer - die immer wachsende Noth deines Vaterlandes, und gleich ist dir Landsmann oder Spanier, und wer regiert und wer recht hat? — War ich doch ein anderer Junge als Schulknabe! - Wenn da ein Exerzitium aufgegeben war: "Brutus' Rede fur das Vater-

154 Images of Goethe through Schiller's Egmont land! zur Obung der Redekunst"; dann war doch immer Fritz der Erste, und der Rektor sagte: wenn's nur ordentlicher ware, mir nicht alles so iibereinander gestolpert. - damals kocht es und [147] trieb. The soliloquy follows a pattern like Albas, beginning with self-references in the first person, changing to an objectivization of that person as "Unglucklicher," then moving to a process of recognition from without. Brackenburg is a man who has lost his self-image: "ich erkenne mich selbst nicht mehr." He tries to reconstruct this image by means of a tortured exercise in self-exploration. Unlike Alba, who engaged an external metaphor, Brackenburg probes internally, like an early Freudian analyst, exposing memories of childhood, recalling and focussing on a scene of failure deep within, a scene diat boiled up in his subconscious - "damals kocht es und trieb" - and has been seedling below die surface ever since. The most important character framing is associated widi Egmont. Alba's soliloquy ends with the stage direction "Er wird aujmerksam, wie einer, der etwas hort, und tritt ans Fenster. Er ist es! - Egmont!" Was Alba not "aufmerksam" before, we might ask? His attention before was turned inward; now it is caught by an external image, and truly an image, for this his first view of Egmont is presented as physically framed by the window. The character of Egmont is framed by more complicated mechanisms than those of others; it is framed both from the perspective of others, as by Alba here, and by Egmont himself. Like Alba, Klarchen frames him from without, but goes further: "Es ist keine falsche Ader an ihm," she says, "er ist doch der grofie Egmont. Und wenn er zu mir kommt, wie er so lieb ist, so gut! wie er mir seinen Stand, seine Tapferkeit gerne verbarge! wie er um mich besorgt ist! so nur Mensch, nur Freund und [158] Liebster." She sees two Egmonts, "der grofie Egmont," the public hero, and the private Egmont, her friend and lover. Most important is the conscious distinction between the two, not just in Klarchen's mind but in Egmonts as well, and the conscious splitting of images and playing of separate roles. This has its climax in die famous scene with Klarchen at his knee: Jener Egmont ist ein verdriefilicher kalter Egmont, der an sich halten, bald dieses bald jenes Gesicht machen mufi; geplagt, verkannt, verwickelt ist, wenn ihn die Leute fur froh und frohlich halten; geliebt von einem Volcke, dafi nicht weifi was es will; geehrt und in die Hohe getragen, von einer Menge, mit der nichts anzufangen ist; umgeben von Freunden, denen er sich nicht uberlassen darf; beobachtet [173] von Menschen, die ihm auf alle Weise beykommen mogten; arbeitend und sich bemiihend, oft ohne Zweck, meist ohne Lohn — o lafi mich schweigen, wie es dem ergeht, wie dem zu Muthe ist. Aber dieser, Klarchen, der ist ruhig, offen, gliicklich, geliebt und gekannt, von dem besten Herzen, das auch er ganz kennt und mit voller Liebe und Zutrauen an das seine driickt. Er umarmt sie. Das ist dein Egmont! Except for one brief parenthetical lapse ("o lafi mich schweigen"), Egmont describes not himself but a character called Egmont, a third person analysis, as

155 Text and Image removed from himself as if it came from another. Even more strikingly than Alba and Brackenburg, he leaves his persona in order to conduct the process. This is not self-reflection, but character analysis, and the relationship of that character to the populace, personal friends, even to Klarchen. We see a spectrum of Egmont's acting of roles, a series of frame analyses of an Egmont who consciously "bald dieses bald jenes Gesicht machen mu8," and while he now wants to suppress the images of that public Egmont to let the private, single-facetted Egmont emerge, this image remains fleeting and ephemeral indeed. The private Egmont appears only once, briefly, only here, and thereafter disappears. Despite what he claims of himself to Klarchen here, it is that Egmont - the public Egmont of many faces - who dominates their relationship. At one point during their meeting, Alba's surprised "Das muf? ich von dir horen?" is met with Egmont's "Nicht meine Gesinnungen! Nur was [215] bald hier, bald da, von Grofien und von Kleinen, Klugen und Thoren gesprochen, laut verbreitet wird." In other words, in debate with Alba Egmont speaks not just for himself, but for the entire populace. He has not one voice, he is multivoiced, and has indeed been so empowered. In Silva's report to Alba on the citizens' mood, he claims to have observed "Alle; den Egmont vor andern. Er ist der Einzige, der, seit du hier bist, sein Betragen nicht geandert hat... Die andern haben dagegen eine merckliche Pause in ihrer Lebensart gemacht; sie bleiben bey sich; vor ihren Thiiren sieht's aus als wenn ein Kranker im Hause ware" [igof.]. Unlike all the others, Egmont's habits have remained unchanged since the occupation - they have not been formed by that event - they have remained consistent despite it. Whatever he may claim in one quiet moment with Klarchen, the characteristic Egmont is primarily public. He alone is not hidden away, he remains connected with the people and voices the concerns of a broad social spectrum. And indeed, Alba has not the slightest interest in the private Egmont; neither is that Egmont important for the dramatic action and its outcome. Neither, in the end, would a purely private Egmont be of interest to Klarchen. Klarchen's description of Egmont's grand entrance into the city characterizes her lasting image of him.8 She, too, is one of the adoring throng, as she recalls their first meeting: "Wenn ich so nachdenke, wie es gegangen ist, weifi ichs wohl, und weifi es [152] nicht. Und dann darf ich Egmont nur wieder ansehen, wird mir alles sehr begreiflich. Ach, was ist's fiir ein Mann! alle Provinzen bethen ihn an, und ich in seinem Arm sollte nicht das glucklichste Geschopf von der Welt seyn?" Uncertain at first how they met - "dann darf ich Egmont nur wieder ansehen, wird mir alles sehr begreiflich." Her attraction is based on his physical image and his political one; the two are, in fact, inseparable, for the very nature of Egmont's physical image is at the same time political, a coidentification encapsulated by Egmont's appearance before Klarchen as a Knight of the Golden Fleece:9 Er wirft den Mantel ab und steht in einem prachtigen Kleide da. [166] KLARCHEN. O je!

156 Images of Goethe through Schiller's Egmont EGMONT. Nun hab' ich die Arme frey. Er herzt sie. KLARCHEN. Lafit! Ihr verderbt Euch. Sie tritt zuriick. Wie prachtig! da darf ich Euch nicht anriihren. The scene carries an enormous visual impact. Egmont casts off his field cloak to reveal a splendour of colour and decoration at which Klarchen can only gasp. Her reaction is not to embrace him - quite the contrary - she wants to stand back and luxuriate in this image, to protect it, not to spoil it, not even to touch it. Egmont had long delayed fulfilling his promise to appear before her in this costume — "Bist du zufrieden?" he asks, "Ich versprach dir, einmal spanisch zu kommen" — for in doing so he is acknowledging that it is this Egmont that forms the basis of her attraction. The costume, as he says, is "spanisch," and around his neck hangs the chain of the Golden Fleece. "Ach und das goldne Vliefi!" exclaims Klarchen, "Das hat dir der Kayser umgehangt?" EGMONT. Ja, Kind! und Kette und Zeichen geben dem, der sie tragt, die edelsten Freyheiten. Ich erkenne auf Erden keinen Richter tiber meine Handlungen als den Grofimeister des Ordens mit dem versammelten Kapitel der Ritter. [168] KLARCHEN. O du diirftest die ganze Welt fiber dich richten lassen. - das Zeug 1st gar zu herrlich, und die Passement=Arbeit! und das Reiche — Man weifi nicht, wo man anfangen soil. EGMONT. Sieh dich nur satt. Egmont attempts to turn attention from himself as spectacle to the meaning behind and beyond his attire, and in doing so draws a straight line to some essential elements of modern performance theory. Klarchen is engrossed in performance, the pure enjoyment of the splendid vision before her. Egmont, on the other hand, tries to steer her to the referential significance of the vision, but his allusion to the abstract notions of freedom and justice are met with her intensified scrutiny of his glorious appearance. Lofty ideals are swept aside as she remains on the level of a fashion show in which details of the splendid garment, the "Passement=Arbeit ... das Reiche," are savoured. Klarchen shows no sense of the dark irony that this costume is "spanisch," nor that the ideals it represents have been trodden down. When she finally speaks of the Golden Fleece, she shows no sign of understanding its significance, trivializing it instead through a banal comparison with their attachment: KLARCHEN. Und das goldne Vliefi! Ihr erzahltet mir die Geschichte und sagtet: es sey ein Zeichen alles Grofien und Kostbaren, was man mit Miih und Fleif? verdient und erwirbt. Es ist sehr [169] kostbar - Ich kanns deiner Liebe vergleichen - Ich trage sie eben so am Herzen — We should remember that this scene is in fact at the structural centre of the play.10

157 Text and Image IMAGE AS ICON In Act I of Goethe's version, Klarchen has this exchange with her mother, which Schiller excised: MUTTER. Nimm dich in Acht! Dein heftiges Wesen verdirbt noch alles; du verrathst dich offenbar vor den Leucen. Wie neulich bei dem Vetter, wie du den Holzschnitt und die Beschreibung fandst und mit einem Schrei riefst: Graf Egmont! - Ich ward feuerroth. CLARE. Halt' ich nicht schreien sollen? Es war die Schlacht bei Gravelingen, und ich finde oben im Bilde den Buchstaben C. und suche unten in der Beschreibung C. Steht da: "Graf Egmont, dem das Pferd unter dem Leibe todt geschossen wird." Mich iiberliePs — und hernach mufit' ich lachen iiber den holzgeschnitzten Egmont, der so grofi war als der Thurm von Gravelingen gleich dabei, und die englischen Schiffe an der Seite. - Wenn ich mich manchmal erinnere, wie ich mir sonst eine Schlacht vorgestellt, und was ich mir als Madchen fur ein Bild vom Grafen Egmont machte, wenn sie von ihm erzahlten, und von alien Grafen und Fiirsten - und wie mir's jetzt ist! (WAi, 8,198-9.)

The revealing speech has to my knowledge never been thoroughly discussed in Egmont criticism, though many studies refer briefly to it, as do most critical editions in a note pointing out the obvious, that Klarchen is likely referring to a sixteenth-century woodcut of the Battle of Gravelines and Egmont's role in it, locating his figure by the letter C according to the woodcut's key. Heinrich Diintzer was probably the first to give attention to the scene: "Am Schlusse [des Gesprachs zwischen Klarchen und ihrer Mutter iiber Brackenburg] deutet Goethe auf einen Holzschnitt der Schlacht von Gravelingen ... Holzschnitte dieser Art waren sehr verbreitet. Wir haben uns diesen Holzschnitt wohl auf einer 'Historic,' einer Geschichtserzahlung, wie sie Brackenburg auch Klarchen mitbringt, zu denken" (61—2.). No later scholar to my knowledge has gone further to determine if in fact such a woodcut existed then, or still does now. This is the first public reference made by Klarchen to her lover. It is rooted in a physical representation of him within an historical context. The Batde of Gravelingen on 13 July 1558 remains a pivotal event in the course of Netherlandic history, a victory with English allies over the French, an irrefutable validation of Egmont's status as national hero. The battle is described in all serious histories of the Netherlands, for example, in Motley (i, 242-46), and in Henning KoS, who wrote from the perspective of a military historian and includes a thorough critical survey of the contemporary sources (32—41), details of battle tactics and strategy (122-49), Egmont's role (123-4, I4—8), and actual maps. Egmont will forever remain in the minds of his countrymen the hero of this battle and die saviour of his people, reckless in his courage, unflinching in his purpose. In the woodcut Klarchen describes, his stature has even made him as large as the tower of Gravelingen itself and the English fleet beside it, a pictorial exaggeration signifying his superhuman nature. At first simply in awe of this

158

Images of Goethe through Schiller's Egmont

historical representation, upon reflection Klarchen is amused at the disparity between its exaggeration — "was ich mir als Madchen fur ein Bild vom Grafen Egmont machte" — and how she sees him now — "wie mir's jetzt ist!" The difference is between Egmont the icon and Egmont the lover, the same dichotomy that Egmont described above after appearing in his Spanish costume. In terms of semiotic performance analysis, a sign which closely approximates the physical features of its referent is called an icon. Beyond the theatre, iconic representation is best known as the religious representation of exemplary individuals through concrete visual depiction for purposes of adoration. For the populace and Klarchen both, Egmont has these iconic qualities, and while they are aware of the abstract principles for which the icon stands, they have lost contact with them. The populace's adoration of their saviour never ceases, but they now ignore dieir responsibility to devote themselves to his ideals. One might go so far as to link the thought to the citizens' "Bildersturm" rampage, when they, as Richard reported, "das Marienbild umgerissen haben" [68]. Their replacement for the destroyed Catholic icon becomes Egmont himself, but there remains only the adulation, without commitment to the ideals for which the icon stands.11 Why did Schiller exclude this scene of the woodcut while keeping the one with the Spanish costume? The answer may lie in the fact that the second is a scene of action and performance, while the first is essentially a static reaction to an image which the audience likely never sees. For Goethe the woodcut was important. He lodges his character depiction and the action in the visual world. Schiller, on the other hand, casts much of that aside in favour of pure drama. The inclusion or exclusion of the woodcut scene demonstrates an essential difference between the two. Now to the intriguing question of the authenticity of the woodcut Klarchen sees - did it exist and does it still exist today? In brief, I have found no trace of it in modern major museums and collections. However, Modey refers to "the fitful pencil of the national painter Wouvermans" (Philipp Wouvermans 1619—68) when describing the Battle of Gravelinges, without reference to a specific work (i, 2423). Although he lived a century later, the Dutch artist Wouvermans could have made a drawing of the action, but my search of his works has not led to such a discovery. Goethe's own huge collection of art works offered clues, and as Jorn Gores notes (67), his interest in Dutch painting preceded his much discussed attraction to the Italians. Schuchardt's extensive catalogue of Goethe's collections includes under "Radierungen, Kupferstiche, Holzschnitte etc." 489 entries for the Netherlands school alone (i, 146-94), including four by Wouvermans. Several of these depict battles, fleets, heroic stances, and the like, some related to the Egmont period, as Jakob Luykeris "Ermordung des Prinzen Oranien zu Delft im Jahr 1584" and "Der Bildersturm in den Niederlanden im Jahr 1568" (#232,169). Schuchardt lists Goethe's collection of "Handzeichnungen" separately, again a huge list (n, #778-954), among which there are sixteen by Netherlanders, one by

159 Text and Image Wouvermans, but none of Egmont; and further, many published collections of drawings and paintings ("Galleriewerke und Sammlungen," I, 216-30), whose individual pieces are not all listed or described. Despite the frustration of not finding the actual Gravelingen scene, it is reasonable to conclude that the picture to which Klarchen refers might have been an imagined compilation of several pictures, allied thematically with this historical event. Other catalogues of major collections confirm the suspicion that, if die picture Goethe had in mind was one by Wouvermans, it could well have been a fictitious combination of several originals. On Wouvermans' works in the Queen's collection, Christopher White remarks: "There is no reason to doubt that the artist's battle-scenes are between imaginary opponents; they do not, as has sometimes been suggested, represent specific engagements" (152).u SCENE FRAMING

Given the techniques of character framing used to define Alba, Brackenburg, and Egmont, it should not surprise us that one of the most frequently mentioned objects in the text is the window. Ten times we are drawn to the window through the dialogue, seven times by Klarchen. It is in fact through the window that their relationship began, as she recalls to her mother: "Wenn Egmont vorbeyritt und ich ans Fenster lief ... Tratet Ihr nicht selbst ans Fenster? ... [i53f.] ... Habt Ihr mich nicht oft ans Fenster gehen sehen?" [159]- Her adoration of the icon began through this frame and her relationship with him become paradigmatic for that of the people. Like Klarchen, the citizens rushed to their windows when Egmont arrived: "iiber die bekiirnmerten Gesichter, die Ihr durchs Fenster stecktet, fuhr wie ein Sonnenstrahl von seinem Angesichte ein Blick der Freude und Hoffnung ... [23z£] ... Aus diesen Fenstern haben sie heraus gesehen, vier fiinf Kopfe iibereinander" [22jf.]. The rows of heads cannot help but suggest spectators at a theatrical event. Alba, too, knows Egmont through such a framework. Anxiously awaiting Egmont's arrival - "Er wird aufmerksam, wie einer, der etwas hort, und tritt ans Fenster" — Alba reacts strongly to what he sees: "Er ist es! - Egmont! ... In der Verblendung, wie hier Egmont naht, kann er mir nicht zum zweyten mal sich liefern!" [204]. "In der Verblendung" is a brilliant turn of phrase, setting Egmont's blindness to the events before him in cruel contrast to the clarity of his framing for public view. The window catches other external images and objectifies them as well. In contrast to the framing of Egmonts arrival and the citizens' joy, Klarchen sees "indem sie ans Fenster tritt Was fur finstre, feierliche Gesichter! Mich iiberlaufts kalt, wenn ich sie ansehe, und es regt sich auch nichts in den Strafien. Kein lustiges Lied hort man mehr. Es ist alles wie ausgestorben" [140]. It is as if a canvas had been transformed in its frame. Klarchen sees the same city, the same street, but Egmont and the citizens are replaced by Alba's soldiers, the mood is altered, the effect reversed, a reflection of real events and their consequences, and also of

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Klarchen's mind. Immediately after learning that Egmont is captured, Klarchen returns to the window: "Klarchen allein. Kommt mit einem Licht und einem Glas Wasser aus der Rammer: sie setzt das Glas auf den Tisch und tritt ans Fenster. Brackenburg, seyd Ihrs? Was hort ich denn? noch niemand? Es war niemand! Ich will das Licht ins Fenster setzen, daf? er sieht, ich wache noch, ich warte noch auf ihn" [241]. She waits in pathetic futility for Egmont to appear in the frame once again, but for her the images of life outside are at an end. It is night. There is no light beyond the window, no scene of life remaining, no one to see her flame outside. Instead, it shines inward, as her own mind gives way to desperation. A visual climax comes moments after, as Brackenburg describes what he has seen: Ich schlich durch Seitenwege, durch bekannte Gange nach meines Vettern Hause, und sah aus einem Hinterfenster nach dem Markte — Es wehten Fackeln in einem weiten Kreise spanischer Soldaten, hin und wieder. Ich scharfte mein ungewohntes Auge, und aus der Nacht stieg mir ein schwarzes Geriist entgegen, geraumig, hoch; mir graufite vor dem Anblick. Geschaftig waren viele rings umher bemiiht, was noch von Holzwerk weifi und sichtbar war, mit schwarzem Tuch einhiillend zu verkleiden. Die Treppen deckten sie zuletzt auch schwarz, ich sah es wohl. Sie schienen die Weyhe eines grafilichen Opfers zu begehen. Ein weifies Kruzifix, das durch die Nacht wie Silber blickte, ward an der einen Seite hoch aufgesteckt. Ich sah, und sah die schreckliche Gewifiheit immer gewisser. Noch wanckten Fackeln hie und da herum; allmahlich wichen sie und erloschen. Auf einmal war die scheufiliche Geburt der Nacht in ihrer Mutter SchooB zuriickgekehrt. [147-9, italics mine]

His description is deliberately linked to the window motif, even though it could obviously have been introduced from many vantage points, and it is not only a different window from Klarchen's, it is specifically a "Hinterfenster," connoting not openness and light but darkness, secrecy, and stealth. It frames a competely different type of image, a moving image, it is more than a "fiirchterliches Schauspiel" [246], as Brackenburg puts it, it is a series of moving images more akin to the screen than a canvas or the stage, an image with the quality of a flickering film. Brackenburg sees first the soldiers' torches illuminating the set, and a striking metaphor prepares us for what follows. "Ich scharfte mein ungewohntes Auge," - like a camera adjusting to the gloom - and then, remarkably, the image comes to life and "stieg mir entgegen aus der Nacht." He recoils at the scaffold's monstrous approach - "mir graufite vor dem Anblick" - widens his lens to take in die entire scene of the unnamed, menacing "viele" shrouding the scaffold in darkness. "Ich sah es wohl," he says, as if the scene had a supernatural quality which he does not expect us to believe, and it assumes the grotesque connotation of a black altar for the "Weyhe eines grafilichen Opfers." Again the personification comes toward him, the white cross "blickte," flickered

161 Text and Image "wie Silber" through the blackness of night. Repeatedly he reinforces the scene's incredible reality - "Ich sah, und sah," the clarity of the image becoming "immer gewisser." Finally, the view fades out again - "Noch wanckten Fackeln hie und da herum; allmahlich wichen sie und erloschen" - and the lens closes: "Auf einmal war die scheufiliche Geburt der Nacht in ihrer Mutter Schoofi zuriickgekehrt." Darkness returns as the nightmare crawls back like a gruesome fetus into the womb of night. Imagine what a filmmaker like Steven Spielberg would do with this! Lest one be accused of mawkishness, I underscore the fact that this grotesque scene is entirely Goethe's (WA i, 8, 286-7) and was taken over directly by Schiller for the adaptation - an interesting point, considering his omission of the Klarchen woodcut a scene earlier, but then this one has much more emotional power. With passages such as this in mind, Goethe's professed distaste for Schiller's sensationalism sounds ingenuous. Perhaps he was a Spielberg before his time. Brackenburg's description is undoubtedly a visual pivot of the play. Immediately afterward, Klarchen produces her vial of poison and cannot be deterred from suicide by his "Du bist betaubt; gehullt in Nacht ... Noch ist nicht jedes Licht erloschen, noch mancher Tag!" [254]. There is no more light for Klarchen; instead, her reaction is this final return to the window: Grausam zerreifit du den Vorhang vor meinem Auge; Ja, er wird grauen, der Tag! vergebens alle Nebel um sich ziehen und wider Willen grauen! Furchtsam schaut der Burger aus seinem Fenster, die Nacht lafit einen schwarzen Flecken zuriick; er schaut, und fiirchterlich wachst im Licht das Mordgeriiste. Die Sonne macht sich nicht hervor; sie will die Stunde nicht bezeichnen, in der er sterben soil. Trage gehn die Zeiger ihren Weg, und eine Stunde nach der andern schlagt. Halt! halt! nun ist es Zeit! mich scheucht des Morgens Ahndung in das Grab. Sie tritt ans Fenster, als sahe sie sich um, und trinckt heimlich. [254—5] If Brackenburg s nightmarish scenario can be compared with film, Klarchen's is surely theatre, complete with an opening "Vorhang." The curtain torn open before her eyes reveals a stage with a horrible reality she had not before perceived. Light is absent - "Die Sonne macht sich nicht hervor" - replaced by gray as the night holds sway. The citizen who had rejoiced at Egmont's splendour now "schaut furchtsam aus seinem Fenster ... er schaut, und fiirchterlich wachst im Licht das Mordgeriiste." The scene is reversed, from the joy and optimism of greeting their hero, to dread, as the monster that moved toward Brackenburg now comes to life before their eyes and "wachst im Licht" as well. It is in the end the overwhelming horror of this image for Klarchen that "scheucht mich in das Grab," and it is significant that just as she immediately turned to the window on hearing of Egmont's capture, for the act that ends her life she returns to the window again, the last reference to it in die play. She has been identified

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Images of Goethe through Schiller's Egmont

with the window and the reality seen through it from the start. That reality had been a fiction, an idealized image of Egmont, which has now been overwhelmed by that of the scaffold. Her first reaction to the certainty of his capture was confusion, a gradual loss of her grip on reality and a lapse into desperation. Her ultimate decision in the face of the scaffold's inevitable horror is to escape that reality by suicide. As she approaches the window for the last time, she looks around, "als sahe sie sich urn," before taking the poison. "Als sahe sie sich um" - ? Where does she look? What is she looking for? What does she see? (The words are Goethe's, WA i, 8, 190.) What mime would an actress play at this point? These are questions that have no certain answers. Perhaps the uncertainty of "als sahe" provides the key - Klarchen is somehow precariously balanced between looking and not looking, seeing and not seeing, hovering between what is outside and what is within, between the reality of two different worlds. The positioning of Klarchen's final act, which forever erases both the glory and the horror of worldly images, is an unmistakeable sign of the windows importance for understanding the play.1' VISION

All that has been said so far in this chapter has to do with vision in the sense of physical sight. Images of war, catastrophe, blood, trees, horses, glorious costumes, moving images seen through windows, they are all caught first by the eye before expanding into metaphors. Schiller's adaptation of Egmont produced two main objections from Goethe: the hooded Alba, as discussed in chapter 3, and his omission of the vision of Klarchen, which he soon reintroduced. But to say that Schiller simply omitted the vision scene, which he called a "Salto mortale in eine Opernwelt" (Werke, Nationalausgabe, xxn, 208), is misleading and points to a fundamental difference between the theatrical and aesthetic positions of the two playwrights. Schiller did not simply eliminate the scene of Klarchen as a vision, he transformed it into a mimed dream. He took it out of the hands of the scenic designer and placed it into the language of the actor. Unlike Goethe's concept, the effectiveness of the scene for Schiller depended entirely on that actor's talent. The scene in his adaptation is as follows: Er entschlaft: die Musik vom Orchester begleitet seinen Schlummer, und wird zuletzt vom kriegerischen Spiel hinter der Szene unterbrochen. Von dent Getofie der Trommeln erwacht Egmont, greift nach dem Haupte, richtetsich in die H'ohe, undscheint, sich mitMiihezu besinnen. Endlich steht er auf; die Musik schweigt; er kommt vorwdrts. Verschwunden 1st der Kranz - ein Traum hat mich getauscht! Bin paradiesisch schoner Traum! — Ich sahe [195] sie — zu mir herunter stieg ein gottliches Bild — es kam von oben — doch hatt' es alle Ziige meiner Klara. — Sie schwang die Siegespalme14 mir entgegen — zeigte mir von fern ein frohlich Volck zum lauten Ufer wimmelnd und Segel zahlenlos

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im Winde flatternd; und driickte leise mir den Lorbeer auf das Haupt. - Es war mein Klarchen, war mein Vaterland. Zusammen in ein Bildnifi flofien sie, die beyden schonsten Freuden meines Herzens. In einem ernsten Augenblick erschienen sie vereinigt, ernster noch als lieblich. Mit Blut befleckten [296] Sohlen trat sie vor mir auf, des Kleides Saum mit Blut befleckt. Es war mein Blut und vieler Edeln Blut. Nein, es war nicht umsonst vergossen - Schreitet durch! - braves Volck! Die Sieges Gflttin fuhrt dich an; Und wie das Meer durch cure Damme bricht, so bricht, so reifit den Wall der Tyranney zusammen, und schwemmt sie ersaufend von dem Grunde, den sie sich anmaafk weg.

We must pause to look at the stage direction above and ask ourselves what the actor had to do, so that the subsequent speech could make sense to an audience. It cannot make sense on its own to a reader, for no wreath has disappeared, no dream, no vision - nothing has been seen at all. It only makes sense if the actor has created a mime sequence during the stage direction to show that he has indeed witnessed a powerful vision, and as we will see in chapter 6 this is exactly how Schiller wanted it done. Although Schiller shifted Goethe's physical vision to the realm of the imagination, he nevertheless retained the same concept for his conclusion through Egmont's account. After inserting die essentials of Goethe's stage directions in the vision scene,15 he then included Egmont's reaction exactly as Goethe had written it (WA I, 8, 304). This point must be stressed, for the emphasis in critical literature on Schiller's omission of the vision often overlooks his replacement of it with a complicated mime sequence, and can also leave the impression diat the text accompanying the mime was something entirely new from Schiller's hand - which is not the case. What is very different is the necessity for the actor to do something in conjunction widi that portion of the text, so that the absent vision comes alive in the minds of die audience. Schiller calls upon the actor's talent where Goedie relied on the set designer. The passage itself describes a transformation from the physical world to the allegorical. The figure is no longer Klarchen, but first and foremost "ein paradiesisch schoner Traum! ... ein Traum ... ein gottliches Bild ... mein Vaterland ... Die Sieges Gottin," a conglomeration of abstractions and ideals rather than reality. His description of the goddess, although she has "alle Ziige meiner Klara," focusses not on personal attributes but on symbolic elements, on the "Siegespalme," die "Lorbeer," and the "Blut" of Egmont and his people. The "Bildnifi" has the quality of a painting, with the depdi and perspective of a landscape - "von fern ein frohlich Volck zum lauten Ufer wimmelnd und Segel zahlenlos im Winde flatternd" — the landscape itself becoming part of the allegory it contains: "Und wie das Meer durch cure Damme bricht, so bricht, so reiSt der Wall der Tyranney zusammen, und schwemmt sie ersaufend von dem Grunde, den sie sich anmafit weg." We are well removed from the misery of Egmont's cell, the horror of the scaffold outside, Klarchen's madness, the citizens' fear and every other bit of realism contained in the play. This vision has

164 Images of Goethe through Schiller's Egmont nothing at all to do with the inevitable outcome and consequences of the drama as written by Goethe or adapted by Schiller. It is idealistic fantasy, a vision of reality that the play simply does not lead us to conclude. When it comes to understanding the play's images, we are now on an entirely different level than before, the level of ideals, and while Schiller felt quite at home here as well, the depiction of ideals in concrete terms did not accord with his sense of theatre. For Goethe, an understanding of the two dimensions of Klarchen, the real and the allegorical, was essential. Soon after finishing the play he expressed his frustration at a friends inability to make the connection between "Dime" and "Gottin" and described his concept of her in terms of a "Begriff der Vollkommenheit" and a "Genufi des Unbegreiflichen" (3 Nov. 1787; WA i, 32, 136, presumably to Herder). His sense of theatre, in contrast to Schiller's, becomes even more evident when we compare his stage direction describing die vision in concrete terms: Hinter seinem Lager scheint sich die Mauer zu eroffhen, eine glanzende Encheinung zeigt sich. Die Freiheit in himmlischem Gewande, von einer Klarheit umflossen, ruht auf einer Wolke. Sie hat die Ztige von Clarchen, und neigt sich gegen den schlafenden Helden. Sie driickt eine bedauernde Empfindung aus, sie scheint ihn zu beklagen. Baldfafit sie sich, und mit aufmunternder Geberde zeigt sie ihm das Biindel Pfeile, dann den Stab mit dem Hute. Sie heift ihnfroh sein, und indem sie ihm andeutet, daj? sein Tod den Provinzen die Freiheit verschaffen werde, erkennt sie ihn als Sieger und reicht ihm einen Lorbeerkranz. Wie sie sich mit dem Kranze dem Haupte nahet, macht Egmont eine Bewegung, wie einer der sich im Schlafe regt, dergestalt, dafi er mit dem Gesicht aufiviirts gegen sie liegt. Sie halt den Kranz uber seinem Haupte schwebend; man hort ganz von weitem eine kriegerische Musik von Trommeln und Pfeifen: bei dem leisesten Laut derselben verschivindet die Erscheinung. (WH i, 8,303-4.)

It is then that Egmont speaks the words "Verschwunden 1st der Kranz." In Goethe's vision die separation between the reality of the preceding drama and die supernatural allegory is much more pronounced than in Schiller. Physical laws are suspended as the prison wall opens and die cloud appears. The vocabulary, "glanzende Erscheinung ... himmlisches Gewande, von einer Klarheit umflossen," points to an other-worldliness of abstraction, but as the allegory of freedom approaches it gains definition: "Freiheit." As in Schiller, the vision's allegorical qualities supersede its likeness to Klarchen, acting out a symbolic mime to show the liberation of the Netherlands through Egmont's martyrdom and his moral victory. Again objects stand out, as in Schiller, the laurel wreath of the victor, but here also "das Bundel Pfeile, dann den Stab mit dem Hute," which Schiller left out. On die whole, Goethe's allegory of freedom has a concreteness lacking in Schiller, so much so that one cannot help but think of its emblematic qualities. Only a clear motto and explicatio are lacking. Yet as Miller/Reinhardt point out, Egmont's verbal account of die vision in Goethe's

165 Text and Image work does not accord entirely with what the audience has just seen. He speaks of her "blutbefleckten Sohlen" of which there is no suggestion in the vision and changes "gottliche Freiheit" to "Sieges Gottin." Such contradictions were not part of Schiller's version since no vision was actually seen. Goethe's image of "das Biindel Pfeile, dann den Stab mit dem Hute" is a symbol of the Netherlands freedom fighters and recalls Egmont's early conversation with Richard and the days of his youth: was wir an einem Abend im leichten [77] Ubermuth der Gefalligkeit und des Weins getrieben und gesprochen; und was man daraus fur Folgen und Beweise durchs ganze Konigreich gezogen und geschleppt habe - Nun gut! wir haben Schellenkappen, Narrenkutten auf unsrer Diener Ermel stecken16 lassen, und haben diese tolle Zierde nachher in ein Biindel Pfeile verwandelt; ein noch gefahrlicher Symbol fur alle, die deuten wollen, wo nichts zu deuten ist. Wir haben diese und jene Thorheit in einem lustigen Augenblick angefangen [78] und gebohren, sind schuld, dafi eine ganze edle Schaar mit Bettelsacken und einem selbst gewahlten Unnahmen, dem Konige seine Pflicht mit spottender Demuth ins Gedachtnis rief, sind schuld — While annotated editions of Egmont usually give the historical background to the symbol of the arrows as a provocation, neither they nor critical commentaries are in the habit of linking their presence in the Klarchen vision to their first mention in Act i (see for example the very good account of the historical background of the symbol and later unconnected mention of it in the vision in the MA, in, i, 867/883). But that first mention was the real beginning of the action. In youthful exuberance, an image was created to represent something smouldering beneath - "Ein noch gefahrlicher Symbol fur alle, die deuten wollen, wo nichts zu deuten ist" - an image which indeed had great significance despite Egmont's claim to the contrary. It gave birth to that political dissent which brought the Spanish to their doors and for which by the end Egmont pays dearly. By pointing to this symbol, the allegory of freedom unifies the vision with the dramatic action in a way that Schiller's adapation fails to do. Still, as the drums of war are heard, the vision can no longer survive and "verschwindet bei dem leisesten Laut derselben." It remains an ideal, far from the political reality of the play, and only in an aesthetic sense logical as a conclusion to the dramatic action. For Schiller, such an aesthetic imbalance was unacceptable, so he diluted the vision as much as he could. For Goethe, it was not only acceptable, it was absolutely necessary for what he wanted to convey in the play - not just drama but the visual representation of his ideals. He thus insisted that his version be reinserted in later performances. Despite its obvious dramatic incongruence, the power of the vision itself was essential for Goethe's notion of aesthetics on stage. Critics ever since have debated the importance of the Klarchen vision scene, beginning with Schiller's 1788 review and Ludwig Ferdinand Huber's comment

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Images of Goethe through Schiller's Egmont

on Goethe's Schriften in the Jena Allgemeine Litemtur-Zeitung, where he called it "eine Kiihnheit, iiber welche wir von dem Dichter selbst Rechenschaft zu erhalten wiinschten, weil weder die Einbildungskraft, noch der Verstand, noch die Illusion des Lesers oder des Zuschauers, ohne eine unmogliche Verwirrung der Gefiihle und Begriffe, hinreichen, sie zu erklaren oder zu gestatten" (Nr. 294, 9 Nov. 1792; MA in, i, 851). Huber's equation of readers and audiences underestimated both; he was more concerned with theoretical aesthetics than unreflective human reaction. People are capable of such flights of idealistic imagination. The tough-minded Madame de Stael rejected it as a "marchenhafte Losung" and "in einem historischen Drama nicht am Platz" (De I'Allemagne, 1813; MA in, i, 857). Borcherdt provides a useful commentary on the differences between Schiller's and Goethe's theatre aesthetics, as exemplified in the scene (354-5), including Schiller's comments in his review of 1788 and Bottiger's defence of it in his book on Iffland. Heinrich Diintzer (1874), had serious doubts about the nature and necessity of the vision (112), and the professional debate has continued ever since. Emil Staiger (1952) used the terms "Kulissenzauber" and "seltsame Ausflucht" (i, 291). East German, politically oriented scholars, such as Edith Braemer (1960), saw the vision as necessary to signify the historical victory of the people over their oppressors (1027). Jeffrey Sammons (1963) saw it as entirely incongruous in terms of the preceding structure and thematic development, observing that Schiller deleted it "in favour of declamation" (247). That is simply not the case - Schiller deleted it, but in favour of mime, which is something very different. Martin Swales (1971) insisted with some energy that Schiller's mime of the vision is simply false for Goethe's meaning: "It is necessary to the play that the vision operates on two distinct, but interconnected levels. The vision must both be a dream that fills the mind of the sleeping Egmont, and it must also confront us, the readers and audience, as a denotative, and indeed prophetic, image whose truth we recognize" (839). This makes sense, but only in Goethe's terms. In Schiller's it does not, and we must remember that the two had different theatrical purposes. Helmut Schanze provided a stimulating discussion of the vision scene, also seeing the vision in terms of an allegory (8790). Benjamin Bennett (1979) saw it as "the transformation of the stage itself into the interior of Egmont's mind ... an entirely natural and aesthetically necessary ending" (121), but is it "entirely natural?" Hardly. Aesthetically necessary yes, but this aesthetic ending could be achieved either through a physical transformation of the stage or through an imagined transformation in Egmont's mind, as long as the audience can make the same imaginary journey, a far more natural event than any sudden physical transformation. One might reiterate that Schiller's extended pantomime of the dream is at the crux of understanding the difference between him and Goethe, the playwright who placed the power in the actor's hands as opposed to the one who gave sway to the visual imagery of the stage production. John Ellis (1978) went so far as to suggest the vision's affinity with the Christian resurrection (127-9). Volkmar Braunbehrens (1980)

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understood it as a "Kunstprodukt" reflecting later political reality (21) and the "Wunschphantasie" of the protagonist as emasculated daydreamer (28). FJ. Lamport (1987—88) accepted the presence and logic of the vision but objected to Egmont's actions thereafter, when "Authentic charisma ... gives way to role playing: Egmont's vision of himself as charismatic hero ... effectively subverts Goethe's charismatic ideal" (69). The question obviously remained valid even among pedagogical texts of the eighties, as in Wilhelm GroKe's school edition and suggestions for examination questions (1987): "Wiirden Sie als Regisseur bei einer Inszenierung des 'Egmont' auf die Traumszene am Ende des Dramas verzichten?" (51) We will see in chapter 9 how modern directors have answered. Dieter Borchmeyer (1994) related the dream vision to the ongoing theme of the "Heilschlaf" in Goethe's dramas (504, 554), while Benedikt Holtbernd insisted that it is the music, not the vision, that renders the scene allegorical: "Die Allegoric ist durch die Musik vermittelt, wodurch sie ihrem formalen Ursprung nach zwar Allegoric bleibt, durch die Musik aber zur gelebten Wirklichkeit wird" (149). The last word goes to the practical theatre man, Eugen Kilian, who called the scene a "Rattenkonig von Schwierigkeiten" (204), presenting technical and aesthetic problems. His professional desperation can only make one smile: "Es gibt kein mifilicheres Stuck in dem gesamten Dekorationsfundus eines Theaters als die 'Wolke.' Das Aetherische dieses Himmelsgebildes steht in einem schreienden Gegensatze zu der massiven realen Theaterpappe, durch die zarte Wolkengebilde in der Welt der Kulisse verkorpert werden. Und nun gar eine weibliche Gestalt Von einer Klarheit umflossen' auf der Wolke ruhend: ein Bild fur die Phantasie und allenfalls den Pinsel des bildenden Ktinstlers - aber bare Unmoglichkeit fur die Welt des Theaters!" (205). Goethe's climax does indeed make us think more of painting than of theatre. His insistence on its presence indicates strikingly his affinity to that medium even in his dramatic works. Kilian and others have related this to the genesis of the play and the fact that Goethe completed it during his Italian journey of 1786—88, when he was intensively exposed to Renaissance painting with its pervasive allegorical conventions and constellations involving idealized figures descending from clouds with symbols of human ideals (205).'7 Indeed, it is not difficult to imagine possible models for Goethe's final vision in the play and we will have an opportunity to explore them in chapters 7 and 8. The wealth of literary metaphors in the text of Egmont has always been one reason for its continuing fascination among literary scholars, but these are just the starting point for further levels of metaphorical signification in the play. This textual flavouring expands to become part of a larger concept that connects the notion of image to character depiction and structure. Finally, image becomes vision and transcends the reality of both literary text and the stage in a surrealistic finale, so that in the end the image itself triumphs over the text.

Figure 4 Egmont's Dream. Adam Friedrich Oeser (1717-99) and Christian Gottlieb Geyser (1740-1803). Title Page. Goethe's, Schrifien. Band v. Leipzig: Goschen 1788. See. p. 178.

Figure 5 Angelika Kauffmann (1741-1807), Skizze zu Goethe's Egmont (Traumszene; undated). See p. 179.

Figure 6 Beschort. Egmonts Traum von Gothe. Iffland, Almanack furs Theater, 1808. See p. 180.

Figure 7 Egmont im Gefangnis. Urania 1815. Gustav Heinrich Naeke (1786-1835) and Johann Friedrich Wilhelm Jury (1763-1829). See p. 181.

Figure 8 Egmont V. Aufeug, letzte Szene. Minerva 1825. Johann Heinrich Ramberg (1763-1840) and Carl August Schwerdgeburth (1785-1878). See p. 181.

Figure 9 Egmonts Traum. (?) Rentzlich and Julius Casar Thater (1804-70). Angekauft vom Sachs. Kunstvereine und bey der Verloosung 1830 gewonnen von Herrn Maler Opitz in Leipzig (undated). See p. 181.

Figure 10 Die Freiheit in der Gesralt Klarchens erscheint Egmont imTraum (undated). Friedrich Wilhelm von Schadow (1788-1862). See p. 181.

Figure n Egmontv, I. Klarchen. Minerva 1825. Ramberg, Jury. See p. 182.

Figure 12 Egmontiv, 3. Alba. Minerva 1825. Ramberg, Schwerdgeburth. See p. 182.

Figure 13 Egmontm. Egmont und Klarchen. Urania 1815. Naeke, Jury. See p. 182.

Figure 14 Egmont and Klarchen. Angelika Kauffmann and Johann Heinrich Lips (1758-1817). Goethe's, Schriften. Bd. v. Leipzig: Goschen 1788. See p. 183.

Figure 15 Egmont in, letzte Szene. Egmont und Klarchen. Urania 1815. Naeke, Schwerdgeburth. See p. 183.

Figure 16 Egmont ui, 2. Egmont und Klarchen. Minerva 1825. Ramberg, Schwerdgeburth. See p. 183.

Figure 17 Three characters from Egmont: (1. to r.) Count Egmont, Klarchen, and William of Orange (undated). See p. 184.

Figure 18 Das Ehepaar Amalie und Pius Alexander Wolff, in Hermann und Dorothea. Idyllisches Familiengemalde von C. Toepfer nach Goethe (undated). See p. 184.

Figure 19 Oels als Egmont. Goethe-Museum Dusseldorf. Schwerdgeburth (undated). See p. 184.

6 Acting i: Image on Stage

A single event precipitated the cooperation between Goethe and Schiller in adapting Egmont for the stage. Even more important than the fact that Schiller had already established himself as a successful dramaturge in Mannheim was the news that Germany's most celebrated actor was coming to perform in Weimar. By 1794 the French siege had rendered uncertain the fate of the Mannheim Nationaltheater where Iffland was employed, and its closure on December 6 forced him to look for work elsewhere. Goethe seized the opportunity to invite him and took personal steps to make the offer attractive, even including an invitation to reside in his own home along with the Schillers.1 During the run of fourteen performances Iffland played thirteen roles (one twice); the last, on 25 April 1796, was Egmont.1 The other plays, chosen jointly by Iffland and Goethe, were for the most part already well known and successful, and Goethe's addition of Egmont to them enhanced the opportunity to rescue his play from its earlier fate. Goethe saw that the talent and charisma of a great actor could make Egmont succeed. To this he added the hand of an accomplished dramatist, but it was the anticipation of the actor, not the dramatist, that precipitated the event. Goethe had looked forward to their tripartite collaboration (letter to Iffland of 30 March 1796, WA iv, 30, 59), and three weeks into the run (March 28 to April 25) already knew that he had made a good decision, expressing his admiration for Iffland in a long letter to Johann Heinrich Meyer (1759-1832), and confident that the power of Iffland's acting would rescue his play (18 April 1796, WA iv, n, 52-4). This is a testament to the power of acting in Egmont and on the contemporary stage.

1/7 Image on Stage IFFLAND AS EGMONT We know exactly how Iffland played Egmont on 25 April 1796, for journalist and editor Karl August Bottiger (1760-1835), eyewitness and intimate of the Weimar stage, left us a detailed account (3 52-76) ? He makes no bones about his unhappiness with many of the adjustments Schiller introduced to the text (364, note i), and with regard to the performance begins with the familiar complaint: "den Egmont, der dem genialischen Dichter bey der Verfertigung der schonsten Scenen dieses Schauspiels jenseits der Alpen [in Italien] vor Augen schwebte, ... konnte und wollte Iffland nicht geben" (352—3). Iffland was not suited to the role, and all concerned knew it - he never played the leading cavalier or lover (352) - yet his superb talent and wide renown overrode such concerns.4 In the central scene with Klarchen at his knee Iffland failed to convey the intimate tenderness we might expect, yet: "die Worte in dieser Scene, wo sich Egmont gleichsam als ein doppeltes Wesen, erst als den steifen, kalten Staatsmann, dann als den feurigsten Liebhaber in Clarchens Armen darstellt, erfiillten, wie sie hier vorgetragen wurden, alle Forderungen der Kunst" (355). His appearance before Klarchen in the glorious regalia of the Golden Fleece was played with subde nuance (357-8; [165-6]), and in the pivotal scene with Alba, Iffland even outdid the playwright in the range of reactions he evoked: "Gothe dachte sich wahrscheinlich diese Unterredung mehr als eine politische Conversation, bey welcher Egmont eigentlich nur ein einziges Mai in Hitze gerath und auffahrt. Iffland legte tiefere Empfindung und alle die Bitterkeit hinein, die wir selbst gegen Alba ... empfinden mufiten" (358-9). Further, the ravages of war came vividly to life through Egmont's description: "Wir erblickten ... selbst die Leichen der Burger, der Kinder, der Jungfrauen. Und nun das vollendende nach einem vollen Ausathmen tief hervor gehobene, langsam feierlich gesprochene: 'Und wie wird dirs seyn, wenn du still sagen mufit, fur meine Sicherheit ergriff ich die Waffen?' Die ganze Versammlung fiihlte sich von der Innigkeit ergriffen, womit diefi gesprochen wurde. Mochte nur jeder Herrscher im Moment, wo er den Befehl zum Friedensbruch unterschreibt, eine solche Stimme horen konnen!" (361; [103]). Descriptions like this attest to the actors power. Bottiger describes Egmont's monologues as having similar effect (362-3), but his most detailed observations are reserved for the dream vision in the final act — he dwells on it for eight pages, about a third of the entire essay (366-73). Since Schiller altered Goethe's original vision, die am SchluE eingefuhrte Vision konnte natiirlich, als ein unsichtbares Traumbild, den Zuschauern nur dadurch versinnlicht werden, dafi der schlafende Egmont durch gewisse sprechende Bewegungen des Kopfes und der Hande das andeudete [sic], was ihm jetzt in einer Art von Verziickung in den hohern Regionen sichtbar wurde. Hier gait es also eine Pantomime im Schlafe, wo doch die Sinne gebunden, und die Hande in ihrem

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Images of Goethe through Schiller's Egmont

Gebrauch bis auf wenige halb starre Bewegungen gelahmt seyn mufiten ... Allein auch so blieb die Pantomime eines Traumenden eine schwere, nur von einem grofien Kiinstler zu losende Aufgabe. (366)

An understatement indeed. Bottiger proceeds to describe precisely how Iffland accomplished the feat using three striking movements to coincide with the vision's critical points, "und doch bezeichneten diese drey Momente die Erscheinung so deutlich, dal? keinem Aufmerksamen der Sinn verborgen bleiben konnte" (371). Should we be sceptical of Bottiger's account? Was Iffland indeed so skilled? Kilian, for one, had doubts that an actor could communicate in just three movements the essence of the allegorical narrative in either Goethe's original or Schiller's adaptation (41).' But as reviews of contemporary Egmont performances showed in chapter 4, the audience consisted to a great extent of people who had read the play, who knew it well, and who may even have been following along with a copy of Goethe's text on their lap. After all, the interior of the house in Weimar was illuminated just as it was in other cities (Maurer-Schmook 68—9), so reading was neither difficult nor frowned upon. Iffland had the advantage of knowing that the audience was seeing his pantomime with the crucial elements of the dream already imprinted on their minds, so his suggestive movements simply set in motion a series of pictures in their imaginations. Bottiger begins to recount how he did it: "Der Ifflandsche Egmont liegt auf der rechten Seite, mit dem Kopfe auf dem untergelegten Arm ruhend, den Zuschauern vollig zugekehrt" (370). This allowed the audience a full view of the actor's face. Bottiger sharply criticizes Adam Friedrich Oeser's (1717-99) title vignette of Egmont in the first edition (1788) which showed the protagonist in a prone position which defeated the dramatic purpose of keeping Egmont's face, arms, hands, and upper body exposed to the audience (369; see Figure 4, p. 168): Bottiger's outright rejection of Oeser's vignette came from the perspective of a man of the theatre, an actor interested in the scene's dramatic qualities, and specifically in Schiller's version, which required that the entire dream sequence be mimed. Egmont's closed eyes point to a very different concept of what occurs in the scene. Goethe's original text carried some indication that Egmont reacts to the vision while it occurs (see p. 163), so it is surprising that Oeser showed him sunk entirely into an inner world. The vision here is its own piece of theatre within the play, even framed by curtains, complete with details of arrows, hat, and laurel wreath. Egmont's position and the disorder of the bed do not run contrary to the tone of a scene depicting him at his desperate end, but the allegorical female's appearance and her reaching down from the cloud to place the wreath on his head is wholly an imaginary event which never penetrates Egmont's physical world. Bottiger thus protests the way Oeser chose to represent the scene despite the way Goethe wrote it. But it was very different when Iffland acted Schiller. As he played the scene, Iffland kept his lower body almost motionless, for according to Bottiger hu-

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mans reflect externally the content of their dreams only through upper body reactions, so that is where the action occurs: Bin leises Zucken im Nacken verkiindigte das Beginnen des Phantasiespiels. Die himmlische Gestalt erscheint. Der schlummernd eingesunkene Kopf hebt sich zur Halfte, und sagt uns: ein interessantes Bild schwebe vor ihm. Erster Moment. - Nach einer kurzen Pause, wahrend welcher der Kopf in dieser halb gehobenen, betrachtenden Stellung geblieben 1st, hebt er sich ganz zur ekstatischen Anschauung. Es ist ein Riickbiegen, wie man iiber sich gen Himmel blickt. Die hehre Himmelsgestalt zeigt ihm den Bund Pfeile und den Freyheitshut. Zweiter Moment. - Die Gestalt schwebt naher zu ihm herab, und scheint ihm den Kranz aufsetzen zu wollen. Es ist Clarchen selbst in der holden Gestalt der Freyheitsgottin. Sichtbar hebt sich die Brust des Schlafers. Er stohnt und schlagt in eben dem Augenblicke beide Arme zusammen, als wolle er den iiber ihm schwebenden Engel erfassen. Das Haupt war auf einen Augenblick schlaff zuriick gesunken, weil eine fortdauernde Steifung unnatiirlich gewesen ware: aber beym Ausstrecken der Arme erhalt es noch einmal seine ekstatische, zuriick gebogene Richtung. Drifter Moment. - Die Kriegsmusik nahert sich. Er erwacht. Aber selbst hier kein rasches Aufspringen, wahrend er nach dem Kranze des Traumbildes auf seinem Haupte greift, und der feinste Anstand im allmahlichen Herabsenken der FiiEe. (372-3) What a performance! Note Bottiger's phrasing at the start, "Der schlummernd eingesunkene Kopf hebt sich zur Halite, und sagt uns." The mime begins not just to show, but to speak - the visual image replaces the spoken word. What follows is like a moving picture, an early nineteenth century precursor of the silent film. Iffland's interpretation of Egmont in this scene was perhaps not his doing alone. We saw that Goethe's version suggested mime. It is also well known that while Goethe was completing Egmont during the Italian Journey he was accompanied for a time in Rome by the artist (Maria Anna) Angelika (Catharina) Kauffmann (1741-1807), whose friendship he enjoyed for many years. It is she who drew the famous scene of Klarchen at Egmont's knee, but not widely known is her sketch of the vision scene (see Figure 5, p. i68).6 In her conversations with Goethe, Kauffmann remarked of her drawing: da die Erscheinung nur vorstelle, was in dem Gemiite des schlafenden Helden vorgehe, so konne er mit keinen Worten starker ausdrucken, wie sehr er sie Hebe und schatze, als es dieser Traum tue, der das liebenswiirdige Geschopf nicht zu ihm herauf, sondern fiber ihn hinauf hebe. Ja, es wolle ihr wohl gefallen, dafi der, welcher durch sein ganzes Leben gleichsam wachend getraumt, Leben und Liebe mehr als geschatzt, oder vielmehr nur durch den Genufi geschatzt, dafi dieser zuletzt noch gleichsam traumend wache und uns still gesagt werde, wie tief die Geliebte in seinem Herzen wohne und welche vornehme und hohe Stelle sie darin einnehme. (AK, 79)

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Images of Goethe through Schiller's Egmont

Egmont's position here is just as Iffland played him, with head propped up by the right hand, looking up at Klarchen as freedom goddess, and the arching stroke above her right arm indicates the moment at which she places the laurel wreath on his head. BESCHORT AS EGMONT

I asked just how far we can trust Bottiger's account of this scene and its effect. If the point that audience members likely knew the scene well from the text is insufficiendy convincing, then we can turn to what is an actual pictorial record of the way it was acted. Figure 6 shows the well known actor Friedrich Jonas Beschort (1767-1846) playing the scene in Berlin between 1801 and 1804, before the picture was published in Iffland's Almanack furs Theater (1808). We recall the reviews of Berlin performances in 1801 and 1804 (chapter 4) and that Iffland had by then assumed the role of Oranien, replaced by Beschort as Egmont, so that this picture shows Beschort in one of those early Berlin productions with coactor Iffland, who no doubt had much to say about how the scene should be played. The picture (Figure 6, p. 169) demonstrates that Beschort used Iffland's Weimar performance of 1796 as a model for his own performance in Berlin. Beschort as Egmont, like Iffland, reclines on his right side, so that the audience can see every gesture and expression. In the Enter Moment his head, too, is "halb gehoben" with the aid of the pillow, and his eyes, although closed, are eerily "betrachtend." A lamp has been placed deliberately behind the arch above his head to draw the audience's attention and to highlight the mimic display, creating in effect a closeup of the actor's face. There is a tension in the neck which keeps the head from sinking into the pillow, so that as with Iffland's Egmont, the figure "sich ganz zur ekstatischen Anschauung hebt." Beyond the eerie gaze of the eyes, the position of the hands in this picture is most revealing. As a single image, the static frame can represent only one moment in the sequence, and that moment, in my opinion, is Bottiger's Zweyter. While Bottiger stressed that Ifflands Egmont rested his head at the outset on his right arm, this must have been only to begin the scene, for his reaching for the vision in the Zweyter Moment must have required that the right arm be moved to a position beside him, as in our picture. Indeed, the creasing of the pillow, lower left, suggests that the right arm had previously rested just there. The spread fingers of the hands are now unmistakably poised to grasp and touch, the arms have begun their upward movement toward the vision aloft. This is surely the point from which "Sichtbar die Brust des Schlafers sich hebt. Er stohnt und schlagt in eben dem Augenblicke beide Arme zusammen, als wolle er den iiber ihm schwebenden Engel erfassen. "7 Beschort was not the only one to model his performance on Iffland's, as the play was produced more and more. In Frankfurt, twenty years later, Johann Heinrich Christian Ludwig Becker (1764-1822) was still doing the same: "Wir

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miifiten uns sehr irren," wrote a reviewer, "wenn nicht Hr. Becker bei dem Studium seiner Rolle die Abhandlung, welche Bottiger iiber Iffland's Darstellung des Egmont in Weimar mit scharf psychologischer Auseinandersetzung uns gegeben, zur Hand gehabt hat."8 EGMONT COPIES

Several further depictions of the scene show that it became a key image for the play in contemporary viewers' minds, with Kauffmann's and Iffland's portrayals showing continuing influence. The continuing interplay between dramatic and visual arts becomes obvious from the following sequence. First, a series of Egmont pictures was published in die 1815 edition of Urania, including Figure 7 (p. 169): Here again Egmont lies with his head supported by his right arm, but now with his arms entwined, and his right leg now reaches to the floor. His face is turned attentively to the vision, though there is less of die detail of his mimed or gestural reaction. The Johann Heinrich Ramberg (1763-1840)/Carl August Schwerdgeburth (1785-1878) depiction, which appeared with several other Egmont pictures in Minerva (1825), seems to recall more closely the Iffland/Beschort conception (see Figure 8, p. 170). Here the bed has been shortened so that Egmont's feet are on die ground, the face is turned up to the vision, and the arms, hands, and raised leg show a state of ecstatic response. A further depiction is similar in its animation (see Figure 9, p. 170): Here, though Egmont's couch has been improbably improved, his closed eyes and gesture suggest an ecstatic response similar to that shown in the previous picture. Finally, Friedrich Wilhelm von Schadow's (1788-1862) water colour of the vision scene (Figure 10) betrays some influence of Iffland's prototype, with Egmont resting on his right side and the right arm supporting the head, but there is none of the animation and drama contained in the picture of Beschort above (see Figure 10, p. 171). Schadow portrays, as Oeser before him on the title page of the first edition, what might well be called the Egmont of the visual arts, which is at the same time the scene criticized by Schiller as a "Salto mortale in eine Opernwelt." Despite his pose, Egmont looks asleep and Klarchen emerges through the wall on a cloud like a goddesss. Compare this with the solid wall of stone blocks behind Beschort. She is indeed "in himmlischem Gewande," but widiout the trappings of a "Biindel Pfeile," "Stab mit dem Hute," or "Lorbeerkranz"; she is by no means the allegorical figure from either Goethe's or Schiller's versions. The illumination now falls upon her, and the light on the Egmont figure has changed from a spodight on his face to a curiously mystical halo, the only odier point of light being the illuminated cross lower right. All three points of emphasis suggest a religious image, an altar piece, rather than a dramatic vignette, and show that die literary sense of Egmont was holding its ground. The legacy of Iffland's contribution to the history and practice of German acting is contained in a pictorial collection known as Ifflands mimische Darstellungen

i8i Images of Goethe through Schiller's Egmont (1811-18), approximately 500 drawings completed by the brothers Henschel of performances in Berlin from 1808 to 1811, Iffland's crowning years. They are for the most part accessible today through Heinrich Harle's reproductions.9 The Henschel drawings show many actors in various roles and works, an elaborate pictorial record of the stars. It is important to realize that these Henschel brothers' pictures were drawn during performances, and hence are the contemporary equivalent to today's photographs of actors in their roles on stage. They are also of action scenes, the equivalent to today's film clips, serving to illustrate the artistry of actors, to entice filmgoers through advertising, or simply to feed the appetites of stargazers. While the Henschel brothers' collection is likely the most important of its age in German-speaking territory, there were many others, and anyone occupied intensively with European theatre history has come across some of them. Virtually any modern illustrated history of German theatre includes some such action poses, and catalogues documenting exhibitions of the period are likely to contain a selection.10 Beyond collections such as that of the Henschels, published dramas commonly included frontispieces made up of drawings of such scenes reproduced as etchings, and there were often several others throughout the volume, to illustrate key moments and important passages of dialogue, phrases from which could be included as a caption, so that the precise moment of die scene could be identified. Figure n is an example of that type of picture, showing Klarchen at the beginning of Goethe's Act v, as she runs through the streets in a vain attempt to arouse citizen support for their hero (see Figure n, p. 171): Through its caption, the picture has a precise textual referent: "Kommt! In eurer Mitte will ich gehen" (compare [234]), so that her appearance and actions can be linked to the meaning of what she says. Her face as well as those of her fellow citizens is full of expression and emotion, her arms and hands thrown out to show her reckless openness and vulnerability, while the citizens shrink and cower in fear and apprehension. It is a dramatic scene which in detail represents what well could take place on a stage. Similarly, the following depiction of Alba as he awaits Egmont in Act n is full of dramatic energy (see Figure 12, p. 172). Again it is keyed precisely to the text: "Wie in einem Loostopf greifst du in die dunkle Zukunft" (compare [203]). The open window tells of Egmont's arrival - one can hear with Alba the sound of his horse approaching. Albas eyes show an intensity of thought, his right hand and finger raised to the chin, showing the uncertainty and apprehension of the moment before what will be a critical scene in the play. A further example can be seen in the famous scene in which Egmont appears to Klarchen "spanisch," one which contains enormous potential for visual and dramatic effect, and one on which I shall focus when considering modern productions in chapter 9 (see Figure 13, p. 172): One hardly needs the textual link to Act in in the subtitle to realize the precise point to which the picture refers (compare [166]). Any director or actor should look at this when preparing to

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play the scene, for it is alive with light, costume, mime, and gesture. Klarchen has a particularly animated role, reacting with astonishment and joy to the glorious vision of her Spanish knight. Her raised hands and stance suggest that she is physically arrested, virtually knocked back by this splendid image, a power generated by the optical impact alone. Undoubtedly the most famous picture associated with Egmont is that drawn for the first edition of 1788 by Angelika Kauffmann and etched by Johann Heinrich Lips (1758-1817), facing the title page which carried Oeser's vignette (see Figure 14, p. 173)." The scene is in "Klarchens Wohnung" at the end of Goethe's Act in or "Biirgerliches Zimmer," Schiller's n, 9. Egmont has arrived, and after the excitement of his self-revelation in Spanish attire, they settle down together. His famous Doppelganger speech follows: Egmont. Siehst du, Klarchen! - Laf? mich sitzen! - [iyz] Er setzt sich, sie kniet vor ihm aufeinem Schemel, legt ihre Anne aufseinen Schoos und sieht ihn an Jener Egmont ist ein verdriefilicher kalter Egmont, der an sich halten, bald dieses bald jenes Gesicht machen mufi; geplagt, verkannt, verwickelt ist, wenn ihn die Leute fur froh und frohlich halten; geliebt von einem Volcke, dafi nicht weifi was es will; geehrt und in die Hone getragen, von einer Menge, mit der nichts anzufangen ist; umgeben von Freunden, denen er sich nicht iiberlassen darf; beobachtet [173] von Menschen, die ihm auf alle Weise beykommen mogten; arbeitend und sich bemiihend, oft ohne Zweck, meist ohne Lohn - o lafi mich schweigen, wie es dem ergeht, wie dem zu Muthe ist. Aber dieser, Klarchen, der ist ruhig, ofFen, gliicklich, geliebt und gekannt, von dem besten Herzen, das auch er ganz kennt und mit voller Liebe und Zutrauen an das seine driickt. Er umarmt sie. Das ist dein Egmont!

Here we can clearly distinguish Egmont's costume and regalia, so that the picture incorporates that dimension of his public image and, combined with his relaxed, affectionate pose, shows that other fundamental quality of his character, his gentle sensitivity as Klarchen's partner. But the speech obviously requires a variety of gestural and mimic accompaniment. Perhaps it can be understood to occur at the moment of the stage direction, or perhaps at the last sentence, but actors wanting to succeed in depicting the range of meanings and emotions expressed by the dialogue would not find much instruction from either Goethe's or Schiller's version of the scene. The positioning of the two figures is on the other hand a contemporary reflection of social rank and role, the knight above the burgher, the woman at the feet of the man, a visual constellation leaving a lasting impression as meaningful as anything delivered by the text." As was the case with the celebrated scene of Egmont in his cell, this one was redrawn and published by other artists, with different effect (see Figures 15 and 16, pp. 173—4). The version of 1815 is much the same as Kauffmann's in costume, composition, lighting, and tone, an idyllic static impression of a couple in love. But a version of 1825 has reversed both the configuration and changed the tone

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Images of Goethe through Schiller's Egmont

completely. What are they doing with their hands, we might ask? And what of their faces? There is an unmistakable interplay here, movement, action, and the body, head, and hand positions strongly suggest fondling. There is a realism that goes far beyond Kauffmann's idyllic image and brings the scene to life, even if in a way some might find unacceptable in tone. When we consider the scene as played on numerous modern stages, we will see that the decision to depict the couple here as emotionless representatives of their sex, as doting doves, or even as ardent lovers was important in the minds of many directors. EGMONT AND OTHERS

A distinction must be made between pictures linked to specific actors in specific roles and scenes, and those which could be called generic. Beschort above is an example of a specific depiction, the group scenes generic, without direct connection to a specific actor or performance. A third type of picture mixes the two in a meaningful way, as in one portrayal of Egmont, Oranien, and Klarchen (see Figure 17, p. 174): It is impossible to guess from the pictures themselves which actors are depicted or which scenes, despite the fact that the characters are striking deliberate theatrical poses and in Egmont's case making an apparently meaningful gesture. Only through the costumes could a possible link with a specific actor or production be made, but diat is unlikely. Like these three pictures, most depictions of roles at the time are in fact generic, even if they bear some trappings of specificity. Another example shows the famous couple Amalie and Pius Alexander Wolff as Hermann and Dorothea (Figure 18), and while they did in fact play these roles on stage, the cataloguer identifies the picture as an "idyllisches Familiengemalde nach Goethe (see Figure 18, p. 175)."I3 The details of position, pose, gesture, and expression shown here may be far removed from those that actually occurred during the performance, and pictures such as this illustrate the transfer of the dramatic image to the general social sphere. Role playing on stage becomes a model for role playing in society. Egmont, Klarchen, and Oranien above, as the Wolffs in Hermann und Dorothea, are no longer stage characters, they are social role models in their appearance, comportment, and perhaps even through the stage characters they portray. The same applies to this example (see Figure 19, p. 175): Here we see the Weimar actor Carl Ludwig Oels (1771—1833) as Egmont, though that could scarcely be guessed from the picture alone. The cross on the chain of his regalia, which we would expect to indicate a Knight of the Golden Fleece, is inaccurate and misleading, for it is a lamb that is the sign of that order and of the historical Egmont's pendant, not a cross (see detail of Egmont's chain, Figures 13-15). This portrayal shows a stylized cavalier who has little to do with his original, especially odd since Oels acted the role in Weimar in Goethe's time and was even praised by Genast as Goethe's ideal Egmont (see fn. 4). Like the previous depiction of the Wolffs, this one shows a continued blurring of lines between acting

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Image on Stage

and social role playing; in fact, if one looks randomly at similar drawings and paintings of the period, without knowing if they are of theatrical or social scenes, it would often be impossible to tell the difference. Acting on stage, when transferred to the visual arts, sometimes seemed identical to acting in society. This chapter has demonstrated that Iffland's Egmont became the touchstone for many later performances of the title role, because of his renowned ability as an actor. We have also seen the close connection between acting and the visual arts, whose portrayals are the only way we can still envision with some degree of accuracy how Iffland and his successors acted portions of their roles. We have seen further a transition in our understanding of the concept of acting, which became part of a social concept beyond the limits of the stage and the theatre. Acting blended with social behaviour when the visual arts mixed specific roles with social types. In the following two chapters, these social dimensions of acting become our focus. Goethe, even more than Iffland, was a celebrity, as an actor, as a director, and as a highly placed civil servant in Weimar. It is now time to give attention to the way in which he performed each of these functions.

Figure 20Figure 20 Adolar undHilaria. oder die Zigeuner. Georg Melchior Kraus. Auffiihrung des Schauspiels von Friedrich Hildebrand von Einsiedel (1750-1828) in Ettersberg. Olgemalde von Georg Melchior Kraus, 1780. See p. 189.

Figure 21 Iphigenie und Orest (Corona Schroter und Goethe). Georg Melchior Kraus (undated). See p. 189.

Figure 22 Biihnenbildentwurf zu der Oper Die Saal-Nixe. Goethe (undated). See p. 197.

7 Acting 2: The Director's Image

GOETHE THE ACTOR

An emphasis on the visual dimension of acting is consistent with Goethe's approach to the stage in Weimar. After moving there in 1775, his first intensive theatrical experience was with an active and successful Liebhabertheater, which he soon directed. Like the other members of the group, Goethe participated in performances, either informally or in one of their many ambitious and sophisticated productions (Sichardt). Some of Goethe's acting is documented in pictures, for example, as Adolar in Friedrich Hildebrand von Einsiedel's (1750— 1828) Adolar und Hilaria oder Die Zigeuner, performed in the open air at Ettersburg (see Figure 20, p. 186). Doubtless the most famous such depiction of Goethe as actor is Kraus's oil of him as Orest with Corona Schroter as Iphigenie in a 1779 Liebhabertheater production in the Redoutensaal of the Weimar court (see Figure 21, p. 187): This beautiful oil is filled with dramatic action at the precise moment of Iphigenie's self-revelation to her brother: "Es zeigt sich dir im tiefsten Herzen an: / Orest, ich bin's! Sieh Iphigenien!" (in, i; WA i, 10, 50). Goethe's pose, his startled expression, his raised arm and gesture with the hand are all elements through which he attempted to convey Orest's reaction to this climactic moment. Was the effectiveness of Goethe's performance mainly dependent on his knowledge and reproduction of the technical elements of declamatory style or were there other factors? And how can we know that this is the way he really looked? The very fact that the medium is oil suggests a time delay between the event and Kraus's portrayal, and even if the painter was attempting a precise duplication, the blurring of memory must be taken into account.

190

Images of Goethe through Schiller's Egmont

Goethe's Orest was indeed memorable, receiving praise from many witnesses, but not because of the detail of his declamatory technique or the historical precision of his costume. Rather, praise focussed on the totality of his performance and on factors that had nothing to do with the play at all. In the picture, Iphigenie/Schroter is largely hidden by her costume while Orest/Goethe stands in full masculine splendour. This is how Hoffraulein Luise Ernestine Christiane Juliane von Gochhausen (1752—1807) described him in a letter to Goethe's mother soon after (6 April 1779): "Der Herr Doktor hat seinen Orest meisterhaft gespielt. Sein Kleid sowie des Pylades seins war griechisch, und ich hab ihn in meinem Leben noch nicht so schon gesehen!" (Ziegler 13). An even more enthusiastic comment on Goethe's physical beauty as Orest came from his physician and friend Christoph Wilhelm Hufeland (1762-1836) in his memoirs: "Als Knabe und Jiingling schon sah ich ihn im Jahre 1776 [sic] in Weimar erscheinen in voller Kraft und Bliite der Jugend und des anfangenden Mannesalters. Nie werde ich den Eindruck vergessen, den er als Orestes im griechischen Kostiim in der Darstellung seiner 'Iphigenia' machte; man glaubte einen Apollo zu sehen. Noch nie erblickte man eine solche Vereinigung physischer und geistiger Vollkommenheit und Schonheit in einem Manne als damals an Goethe" (Wahl, 60). Such extravagance is reminiscent of the obscure, primitive acting guide Von der Schauspielkunst of 1780 which is signed at the end by "Gott Apoll" himself (91). What was surely an exaggeration of the effectiveness of Goethe's Orest by both female and male observers demonstrates that in their critical assessments, contemporaries were just as much interested in Goethe's private persona as the stage character he portrayed, and were incapable of separating the two. Since the Prague school of theatre semiotics, students of the stage have become aware that analysis of acting should take notice of three dimensions: actor, stage figure, and character. The actor is the person playing the role, a human with a private identity and daily tribulations just like any other, all of which affect his artistic portrayal to some extent. The stage figure is the person represented on stage, a fictitious identity assumed for the duration of the play, created by the actor in conjunction with the author. The character is that figure as interpreted by the audience, each member of which understands it differently, though these may be degrees of overlap and similarity.1 More recently, a fourth dimension has received attention: the actor as celebrity. Iffland, for example, was indeed that. In our day he would be comparable to a celebrated movie star, but not one of that raft of pseudocelebrities in the entertainment and sports world today. He was comparable to such modern stage luminaries as Sir John Gielgud, Meryl Streep, and Oskar Werner whose fame on the boards expanded enormously through their profile on the screen and whose reputation is deservedly durable. Leading actors from the eighteenth century to the present have often become icons in the cult of stardom. Audiences flock to see them, often motivated only secondarily by their interest in the stage character or the work presented. Truly talented celebrities do not disappoint in performance either,

191 The Director's Image

for their ability carries them past ephemeral adulation to enduring critical success, so that audiences are doubly satisfied, enjoying the thrill of a fine performance and the aura of the personality. As Carlson points out, there is an inevitable mixture of the celebrity persona with the stage figure, and hence with the character in the audience's mind. This mixture includes elements of the celebrity's private life (the more known, the more titillating), outstanding roles played previously (often signature roles which forever remain a point of reference), and stock types with which the actor has become identified. Carlson writes, "Many a stage character, as Quinn suggests, has been confused or destroyed by distractions arising from the celebrity of a well-known star, but it is also true that many characters, inadequately drawn in the script, have been made rich and interesting on stage by the infusion of some particular actor's celebrity" (1994: 113). Iffland's portrayal of Egmont in Weimar is a case in point for the latter, and he was certainly not alone among Goethe's actors in enjoying celebrity status over the years of Goethe's directorship. Pius Alexander Wolff enjoyed similar acclaim a few years later. Corona Schroter, whom Goethe had courted since he first heard her sing in 1776, was his female star in the nineties, and Caroline Jagemann became Weimar's unchallenged prima donna in the first two decades of the new century. Jagemann was immensely talented, a true star, and a celebrity with all of the personal trappings a stargazing public could desire. This exciting blend of talent and notoriety, including a good dose of amorous intrigue, is just the stuff of Hollywood tabloids today. But the greatest actor-celebrity in Weimar, who filled all requirements of the role even better than Iffland and Jagemann, was Goethe himself.2 Deirdre Vincent has offered insights into the type of intrigue constantly surrounding Goethe's acting: "In her play Rino (1776) Charlotte von Stein herself had gently mocked the general acclaim in Weimar for Goethe's fine dark eyes; in Dido (1794) she spitefully attacked his 'Schauspielergeberden' as being calculated for maximum effect on women" (167, fn. 56). Vincent describes Rino as "a discussion among four society ladies on the subject of this young man, Rino, who has much of the air of a Werther about him and is the darling of them all. Rino himself appears only briefly in the first scene, but Frau von Stein's casting of the roles is important for the hidden message she wishes to convey: Rino is to be played by Goethe, the four ladies by Countess Anna Amalia, Fraulein von Gochhausen, Frau von Werthern, and Charlotte von Stein herself. ... Clearly, the play has two levels of meaning, the one eso-, the other exoteric. Outwardly to its actors and audience it represents nothing more than a playful tribute to the new darling of the Weimar court, but behind that lies a secret message from Charlotte von Stein to Goethe which only he could understand, given that his already ardent courtship was a deep secret between the two of them" (73).3 Iffland's appearance as Egmont in 1796 involved a combination of technical competence and celebrity status. Such was the case for Goethe the actor as well. His Orest became legendary, apparently not just because he played the role with

191 Images of Goethe through Schiller's Egmont some technical talent, but because he seems to have instilled in his audience a sense of awe that transcended the play. This was to be the pattern for Goethe's theatre career, and just as his own status as actor was linked to his growing fame, so was his overall development of the Weimar stage, but with one difference. Historically, the actors had been the greatest celebrities, but in Weimar this was to change: Goethe robbed them of their stardom and transferred it to himself. GOETHE THE DIRECTOR

Goethe assumed the directorship of the Weimar court theatre in 1791 and continued in that position until 1817, during which time he directed or supervised 600 plays in over four thousand performances, 4,136 to be precise (Burkhardt, xxxv). He was responsible for all aspects of the theatre as well as visits by the ducal company to neighbouring towns and cities. This breadth of control was unusual for the time, the title "Oberdirektor" itself being too narrow. There were others who directed plays in Weimar, for example, Anton Genast, but always under Goethe's supervision. In his extensive early catalogue of German theatres, Iffland listed the Weimar personnel this way: "Oberdirection, Sr. Excellenz der Hr. Geheimderath von Gothe und Hr. Hofkammerrath Kirms - Die Regie besorgen die Herrn Becker und Genafi [Genast]" (Almanack, 370). The responsibility of the traditional eighteenth-century theatre director was mainly limited to interaction with the performers, rather than extending to the sets, lighting, and other aspects of the production, as Wilfried Passow (133-4) and Rudolf Miinz (161) have recently pointed out, with support from the earlier work of Winfried Klara (58-9). Goethe's responsibilities and the details of his directing style are outlined in a huge number of sources.4 To differentiate between the role of director and Goethe's purview, it is better to attach to him a different title, such as the German "Intendant," a combination of general manager and director, a term also used in English. Goethe's experience on stage with the Liebhabertheater doubtlessly paid dividends later when he became director and intendant, for actors were understandably resentful of directors who were so presumptuous as to instruct them from a theoretical and aesthetic base alone. Wilfried Passow relates some lively incidents of actors who ignored, even flaunted and mocked instructions from directors who had not previously earned their reputations on the boards (143). At the Liebhabertheater, Goethe had encouraged extemporization, particularly in comedy, and the repertoire included entire evenings of extemporized performance (Sichardt, 102, 146), but as time wore on he became increasingly wary of such freedom and by the end of the century, among thoughts produced in discussions with Schiller and subsequently entitled "Uber den Dilettantismus" (1799), he writes: "Der Dilettant verhalt sich zur Kunst, wie der Pfuscher zum Handwerk. Man darf bey der Kunst voraussetzen, da6 sie gleichfalls nach Regeln erlernt und gesetzlich ausgeiibt werden miisse" (WAi, 47, 322). Goethe always retained respect for extern-

193 The Director's Image porized play in acting, but such licence was gradually reduced to insignificance as his career wore on. An entertaining illustration of Goethe's control and its consequences for both the professional and personal lives of Goethe's players can be read in the dismissal of the actor Carl Wilhelm Reinhold [Zacharias Lehmann] (1777-1841) in 1807, an incident recounted and assessed by Dieter Borchmeyer in his sprightly essay "Saat von Gothe gesaet ... Die 'Regeln fur Schauspieler' - Bin theatergeschichtliches Geriicht" (esp. 265-7). Even threats of arrest and incarceration were used to still Goethe's unruly actors and make them toe the line he drew. Of course Goethe's firsthand experience of Ifrland's professionalism during the 1796 run had left a lasting impression of the great actor's blend of control and innovation. Iffland visited Weimar again in 1798,1810, and 1812, by which time Goethe's concept of production was well developed. Goethe's own set of rules for acting, in so far as he collected them in one place, are his "Regeln fur Schauspieler" (1803; first published 1824) which he called a "Grammatik" for actors, the same term Conrad Ekhof had used decades before and which had been Lessing's motivation for attempting to write his own Sckauspielkunst? We should be reminded that Goethe's "Regeln" are fragments only, dictated as a series of ad hoc lessons to his actors Karl Franz Griiner and Pius Alexander WolfF, who then applied and modified them to their own circumstances. Dieter Borchmeyer's cautious assessment of their authority and merit is thus entirely appropriate (Bender, 273). The "Regeln" also followed on the heels of a prescriptive volume for actors by Goethe's colleague Friedrich Einsiedel (author of Adolar ...), Grundlinien zu einer Theorie der Schauspielkunst (1797), to whose genesis Goethe had contributed considerably. Einsiedel characterized his guide as "bios Skizzen zu dem Plane eines ... vollstandigeren Gebaudes," but he never produced a further version (n). His treatise draws fundamental parallels between acting and the visual arts. He writes of "die theatralische Venvandlung der Bilder des Dichters in Statuen" (20), and in order to explain how an actor can transform a text on stage turns to "Analogien aus der bildenden Kunst" (26-7). Fundamental to the Grundlinien is Einsiedel's distinction between "Stil" and "Manier," the former having precedence and encompassing the overall aesthetic sense and tone of the work, the latter related to subordinate signs which in conjunction with others contribute to the "Stil" (27-30), and also an actor's individualistic ways of expression on stage. Actors must in fact suppress their individuality in favour of the author's sense of "Stil" (36-7), and the primacy of "Stil" leads to a " Veredelung der Natur," which is for Einsiedel the goal of art (40). Art then has as its goal the idealization of nature. This idealization contains for Einsiedel many properties of the visual arts, even if he is writing foremost about drama. He describes the author's intention to produce "mimisch-bildliche Schilderungen" (60) and calls the actor "einen bildenden Kiinstler" (62). Finally, Einsiedel recommends that every actor rely heavily on Engel's Ideen zu einer Mimik to practice his craft (68).6

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Images of Goethe through Schiller's Egmont

Goethe's "Regeln" can be seen as the next step, but the ninety-one brief subsections and many detailed instructions on aspects of gesture, movement, voice, and delivery which comprise the work are neither the "vollstandiges Gebaude" Einsiedel had envisioned, nor an extensive grammar for actors to compare with Engel's.7 With a number of good guides already in existence, one might wonder why Goethe found it necessary to begin his own version at all. First, despite increased professionalism in acting over the previous several decades, crude misbehaviour on stage was still common (we witnessed a sampling in chapter 4), so that continuous emphasis on rules was indeed necessary. Then, the popularity of the relatively new, so-called natural style led many an unprofessional player to crudities such as blowing one's nose on stage in the middle of a scene or even spitting (Borchmeyer in Bender, 270).8 Secondly, Goethe's own style was moving beyond even the fine naturalism of professionals such as Iffland toward an idealized harmony of acting and production. With Goethe's own "Regeln" no more than a fragment, his actors, like most of their contemporaries, continued to rely on the guides in existence by 1790, but they were heavily modified by Goethe's direction, as reflected in a comment on his star pupil Pius Alexander Wolff: "Aber wie spielte er! wie war er sicher! wie war er fest! - Es war mir unmoglich, ihm nur den Schein eines VerstoEes gegen die Regeln abzulisten, die ich ihm eingepflanzt hatte" (MA, xix, 268). Goethe's strong-handed direction became legendary. Long rehearsals, both reading the text and preparing the play, became the order of the day. This account of an Egmont rehearsal in 1806 is a good illustration of how his control superseded that of his other directors and actors alike, and how he himself insisted that they play according to the rules of which he approved: Ein ander Mai sollte 'Egmont', nach Schillers Einrichtung fur die Biihne, gegeben werden. Der Meister war behindert, den ersten Proben davon beizuwohnen. Dem Regisseur Genast bleib die Leitung derselben iiberlassen. Die Schauspieler beklagten sich im Stillen, dass sie noch nicht wiissten, wie sie die Volksszene, wodurch die Tragodie eingeleitet wird, im Sinne des Dichters darstellen sollten. Endlich erscheint Goethe in der Probe. Als er das Gewirre sah, worin die Schauspieler sich nothdurftig bewegten, rief er: "Halt!" ging auf die Biihne und ordnete die Stellung der zunachst Beschaftigten ... Da merkte man es deutlich, wie durch diese kunstgemasse Gruppirung den Schauspielern das Verstandniss aufging und nun Sicherheit in ihre Leistungen kam. In der Scene zwischen Herzog Alba (Graff) und Egmont (Oels) bemerkte Goethe: "Lieber Graff, Ihre Gesticulationen waren ganz gut, wenn sie dabei nicht das Gesicht verdeckten, das man nur in besonderen Fallen dem Zuschauer verbergen soil. Spielen Sie start mil dem rechten Arme mit dem linken, so bleibt Ihr Gesicht frei und Ihre Mimik geht dem Publicum nicht verloren. Auch ist es angemessener, die Worte, welche Alba an Egmont, der zu seiner Linken steht, richtet, mit der linken Hand vorzugsweise zu unterstiitzen." Graff verneigte sich und sagte: "Sehr wohl, Excellenz!" (Graf, II. i, 232-3)

195 The Director's Image Notice in the first paragraph how Goethe achieved the desired effect through "die Stellung der ... Beschaftigten ... durch diese kunstgemasse Gruppirung." Beyond the details of individual acting technique, Goethe's predominant emphasis was on harmonious beauty, which was to be projected by the entire cast. His first action in the anecdote above relates precisely to this. The emphasis is also clear in the "Regeln," and much has been written about it as characteristic of the Weimar style.9 We have seen Einsiedel's respect for Engel's guide and his insistence on the connection between acting and the visual arts. Goethe was also well aware of Engel's Ideen and emphasis on "die deudich gedachte Regel" (Engel, Ideen, vm, 24). Engel's guide had at the same time voiced one overriding principle: Aber Nachahmung, Darstellung der Natur 1st ... ein Grundsatz der nirgend hinreicht. Der Natur gelingt Manches in einer Vollkommenheit, dafi die Kunst nicht welter thun kann, als es sorgfaltig aufzufassen und getreu wieder darzustellen; aber Manches erreicht bei jener, auch wo sie am besten wirkt, den Grad der Vollkommenheit nicht, den es sollte ... und da erfbrdert denn die Pflicht der Kunst, aus einer gesammelten Menge von Beobachtungen, oder nach Grundsatzen die aus diesen Beobachtungen gezogen sind, die Fehler der Natur zu verbessern, das Falsche zu berichtigen. (Ideen, vm, 19) Engel's goal for actors was to depict not just nature but idealized nature and harmony. Several sections of Goethe's "Regeln" illustrate die same philosophy. In the section "Stellung und Bewegung des Korpers auf der Buhne" we see that the sense of harmony begins with the individual player: "Zunachst bedenke der Schauspieler, da6 er nicht allein die Natur nachahmen, sondern sie auch idealised vorstellen solle, und er also in seiner Darstellung das Wahre mit dem Schonen zu vereinigen habe. ... Jeder Theil des Korpers stehe daher ganz in seiner Gewalt, so dafi er jedes Glied gemafi dem zu erzielenden Ausdruck frei, harmonisch und mit Grazie gebrauchen konne" (WAi, 40, itff.). Despite the fact that Goethe insisted repeatedly that nature was die primary guide, to desire the effect of harmonious, idealized truth was in a sense the same as advocating artificiality. As he goes on, Goethe's idea of theatre seems equivalent to the living depiction of a beautiful painting: "Das Theater ist als ein figurloses Tableau anzusehen, worin der Schauspieler die Staffage macht. ... Man spiele daher niemals zu nahe an den Coulissen. ... Eben so wenig trete man ins Proscenium. Diefi ist der grofite Mifistand; denn die Figur tritt aus dem Raume heraus, innerhalb dessen sie mit dem Scenengemahlde und den Mitspielenden ein Ganzes macht" (W54 i, 40, 166—7). The word "Staffage" can mean "accessories" or "decoration," but in the late eighteenth and early nineteendi centuries, it was used usually in connection with painting to mean a group of humans or animals whose presence effectively brought the scene to life in a plastic work (Grimm x, 5I4-I5).10 Rudolf Miinz draws attention to Christian Heinrich Schmid's emphasis on the artistic grouping

AEgmont and Klarchen. Angelika KauffmannEgmont and Klarchen. Angelika Kauffmann

of actors in 1771 and Wilfried Passow cites Johann Gottfried Dyk's direct comparison between scenic depiction in the theatre and in painting in 1788, so that Goethe's putting the harmonious whole above the actors' individual impact and his expressed connection between the visual arts and acting had more than one forerunner (Miinz, 160; Passow, 143). Still, his pursuit of the alliance between theatre performance and the visual arts was stronger and more systematic than had ever been seen in the German-speaking world before. In his Proserpina essay, he went so far as to say that the movements of the body should remind us of "die Wiirde der Plasrik" (WA i, 40,117). We are reminded further of ideas that Goethe had shared with Wilhelm von Humboldt just a few years earlier, ideas the latter expressed in his letter "Uber die gegenwartige Franzosische Biihne" (n, 377-400), which Goethe published as an essay in his Propylaen of 1800. Humboldt singled out for admiration the "malerische Gestalt" of the Parisian actor Francois-Joseph Talma (1763-1826), claiming: "Er mag sitzen, stehen, niederknien, so wird es der Maler immer werth finden diese Stellungen zu studieren" (n, 379). Even in movement, claims Humboldt, the French actors maintained this pictorial quality: "In dem Gebehrdenspiel ist der Franzosische Schauspieler ... mehr malend, als der Deutsche, der nur fast ausdriickende Gebehrden kennt" (n, 385). The term "ausdriickende Gebehrden" was part of the standard contemporary terminology to describe gestures, which could be "zeigend" (indicative), "nachahmend" (imitative) or "ausdriickend" (expressive). Humboldt, and by extension Goethe, criticized German actors for not going beyond the use of expressive gestures, but these were commonly understood until then to be the highest form of gestural expression.11 In the "Regeln," Goethe goes beyond that, repeatedly using the term "mahlende Gebahrde" (pictorial gesture), as in these examples: "Die mahlende Gebahrde mit den Handen darf selten gemacht werden, doch auch nicht ganz unterlassen bleiben ... Es mufi gemahlt werden, doch so, als wenn es nicht absichtlich geschahe"; and a specific example relating to Schiller's Braut von Messina: "Hier kann das erste Ich fiiglich mit der mahlenden Gebarde durch Bewegung der Hand gegen die Brust bezeichnet werden" (WA i, 40, 158-9). Goethe also advocates in the "Regeln" that entire series of gestures be arranged with specific regard to pictorial quality: "Wer auf der rechten Seite steht, agire mit der linken Hand, und umgekehrt, wer auf der linken Seite steht, mit der rechten, damit die Brust so wenig als moglich durch den Arm verdeckt werde" (WA i, 40,160). In insisting that actors stage right use their left hands to act, Goethe goes against the grain of eighteenth-century acting technique which insisted that first and foremost the right hand be used for gestures (see many examples in Barnett, 95—112 and passim). Clearly, he was more concerned with the harmonious visual balance, the pictorial equilibrium on stage, than with this tradition. Humboldt and Goethe are saying that there is an even higher level of gesture than the "expressive," that is, the "malerische Geste" which transcends the play itself to become a lingering static image.12

197 The Director's Image As part of the harmonious unity of the entire production, Goethe was naturally concerned about costuming, and as with his general inclination to equate much of what happened on stage with the plastic arts, he crystallized a trend of the age, rather than inventing it. For example, the Modejournal of 1803 contained an essay on the colour coordination of theatre costumes and their relationship to colour schemes in painting (Miinz, 176). It is well documented that in eighteenth-century German theatre costumes were seen as far more important than sets, with actors in many established theatres receiving a regular allowance for costume materials and permanent companies holding a large stock for general use (Miinz, 158; Klara, 1-3). In the nineteenth century, however, this balance was tipped in the opposite direction, with ever greater portions of the production budget being allotted to the overall concept including props, sets, and lighting, with proportionally less for costumes. The eighteenth-century emphasis on costumes did not automatically result in harmonious costuming from the perspective of the entire work, for in most cases actors still chose their own costumes from what was available in the general stock and in their own theatrical wardrobe. To make matters worse, rehearsals (rarely more than one or two) were held without costumes, and these were often chosen by die actors just shortly before the performance, so that little time remained for adjustments (Miinz, 159,162). Naturally, egocentricity and bad judgement came into play, but aside from a personal confrontation with the director just before the curtain rose (which sometimes occurred with positive results), not much could be done. We saw some curious examples of eclectic costuming in the reviews of chapter 4. Soon after Goethe assumed control, this situation no longer obtained in Weimar. Goethe was also heavily involved in set design, together with Georg Michael Kraus, painter of the Adolar and Iphigenie/Orest pictures and Goethe's personal drawing teacher in Weimar. Their alliance in the theatre was fixed through ongoing collaboration on scenic art, and we can still look at many of the backdrops they created for Weimar productions, for example, Goethe's watercolour for a backdrop to the opera "Die Saal-Nixe" (see Figure 22, p. 188). Kraus produced many paintings of Goethe sets and scenes on his own, and these give us an overall idea of the pictorial harmony which Goethe attempted to achieve.'3 In Realizations, Martin Meisel asserts that "die play in the nineteenth century is the evident meeting place of story and picture" (3). He sees in nineteenthcentury drama a revolution in presentation, dominated by a new type of dramaturgy which rests not on action, but in "a moment of stasis, a picture. The play creates a series of such pictures, some of them offering a culminating symbolic summary of represented events, while others substitute an arrested situation for action and reaction" (38). While acknowledging that European theatres before the nineteenth century had strong pictorial elements, for example, in the scenery and costumes, the difference in the nineteenth century is that the dramaturgy itself became pictorial, not just the static elements. Meisel selects examples largely from English theatre and painting, but much of what he says is applicable

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Images of Goethe through Schiller's Egmont

to other countries as well, including Germany, and especially to Goethe in view of his unusual dramaturgical emphasis on static elements, a subject I shall explore further in chapter 8. MANNHEIM

Most critics accord Goethe a unique position in the history of German dramatic production because of his development and direction of the Weimar style. As a result, other stages with similar goals and a high level of aesthetic achievement are sometimes overlooked or given short shrift. One could assess Goethe's accomplishments by comparing them with those of other great theatres of the age, for example, in Berlin or Vienna, but for our purposes the example of Mannheim, where our Goethe/Schiller manuscript originated, seems the best case in point.'4 Several times during the preceding chapters reference has been made to the accomplishments of the Mannheim stage, which is unusually extensively documented (Martersteig, Pichler, Walter, Sonnenfeld). The precision and sophistication surrounding Mannheim productions from 1778 to 1803 are remarkable. With Wolfgang Heribert von Dalberg in charge and Abel Seyler (1730-1801), Iffland, and then Dalberg himself directing performances, there developed an extraordinary sense of artistic mission and teamwork unmatched anywhere in German-speaking territory at the time. Some of Pichler's appendices speak volumes for the quality of the Mannheim enterprise, the control of the direction, the cooperation of the actors, and the constructive contribution of all concerned. The "Theatergesetze der Mannheimer Nationalbiihne" of 1780 are a noteworthy, succinct statement of this symbiosis (Pichler, 321-3). From these it is clear that all involved had a say in setting the repertoire well in advance; a responsibility to study and learn parts beforehand; a responsibility to attend and contribute constructively to rehearsals; to discuss and coordinate costumes with the director; to accept roles he deemed appropriate; to keep to the text; and to behave professionally on stage in support of the directors concept. Clearly the authority of this person was to be respected. Conversely, both he (Seyler) and his overseer Dalberg had a written responsibility to all members of the company to engage in full and open discussion about every aspect of these regulations. Martersteig's edition of the meetings at which these discussions occurred is evidence of this unusually liberal and productive interchange. There are numerous other documents on more specific aspects of the theatrical activity there, including an astonishingly detailed "Kleidungsreglement" prepared by Iffland just after he became director in 1792 (Pichler, 331-38). From this it is evident that the theatre held an extensive reserve of costumes; that each actor received certain standard costume accoutrements; that no changes were permitted without the written approval of the director several days before the performance; and that costuming for a large selection of character types and specific roles was set down by regulation with fine precision, for

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The Director's Image

example: "Die Aktrizen, welche in denen tiirkischen Rollen spielen, werden ebenfalls in den ersten Rollen und nach Maafigabe der vorstehenden Ranges [sic], besonders und unterscheidend prachtig gekleidet; die Vertrauten tragen nicht Attlafi, kein Gold und Silber, keine Stickerei, nur eine Feder; keinen Schmuck als Perlen; schmale Pelzbrame. Die Sclavinnen in Wolle, ohne Schmuck und Feder" (Pichler, 333); or in die case of lead players: In Altdeiitschen Stiicken, 1st fur erste Rollen, die erste Riicksicht zu nehmen, doch 1st es unschicklich, wenn Ritter, die nicht Konige oder Fursten sind, anderen Schmuck tragen, als die Huthschnur, und erwa eine Mantelagrafife. Steingiirtel gehoren nur in den regellosen Staat des Ballets, oder in orientalisches Kostiim. Die alten Deutschen trugen hochstens den Degengriffbrilliantirt; und das nur bei Prachtgelagen. Ritterketten konnen nur aufier den ersten Rollen - die sehr Alten, vom Stande tragen. Die Vertrauten konnen nur eine Feder tragen, wenn ihr Stand sie nicht besonders distinguirt, und zwar nur schwarze; die Diener weder Gold noch Silber, Wollenzeug und eine farbige Feder. (Pich-

ler, 334)

When Dalberg was in charge, such minutiae of costume and action were respected and adhered to. These examples could easily be supplemented by citing Walter at length on virtually every aspect of the theatre's artistic and business operations. Not to be forgotten on the artistic side is the appearance of the sets, the stage and the house, the props, the lighting, as well as the stage's mechanical and technical capabilites. These are intricately and superbly described by Sommerfeld, including (as appendices) many precise drawings of the stage and theatre themselves, as well as the sets, props, and blocking plans for numerous productions. After he had left Mannheim for Berlin, Iffland reflected on Mannheim's decline since Dalberg's resignation in 1803, noting a loss of control and focus, negligence toward properties and costumes, and concluding: "Es giebt eine Gattung Subordination, deren auch eine Kunsteinrichtung sich nicht entziehen kann" (Pichler, 341). Friedrich Walter calls it an "aristokratische Intendanz" (i, 3). Indeed the success of Mannheim under Dalberg's leadership occurred because everyone involved subordinated themselves to the regulations of the theatre and to the judgement of one powerful person with a sense of the overall goal. But it is just as important to add that these regulations and that judgement were based on consultation and cooperation with those who were to put the rules into practice on stage, not simply on one individual's aesthetic vision. When looking at the Mannheim example, it is difficult to argue that Goethe's achievement in Weimar was either unique or novel; unique and novel was the way it was achieved. Unlike Mannheim, Weimar productions were foremost an expression of Goethe's vision and aesthetic concept, not those of a theatre consortium. Others became merely agents of his image of what the theatre should be.

Figure 23 Flofibriicke (Naturbriicke) im Weimarer Park. Hintergrund - Goethes Gartenhaus. Staffagefiguren: Charlotte und Fritz von Stein. 1776—9. Goethe. Charcoal and chalk. Femmel i, #195. See p. 209.

Figure 24 Nachtliche Storung. Goethe. Pencil drawing. 1768/70. Copy of a work by Johann Ludwig Ernst Morgenstern (1738-1819). Femmel i, #75. See p. 219.

Figure 25 Illustration zu Moliere: Le Malade Imagmaire. Goethe. Pencil drawing. Possibly copy of Morgenstern work. 1768-70. Femmel i, #76. See p. 219.

Figure 26 Rekrutenaushebung. Goethe. Pen and pencil drawing. 1779. Femmel i, #307. See p. 219.

Figure 27 Krankenzimmer. Goethe. Pencil drawing. Perhaps copy of a Morgenstern work. 1768-80. Femmel i, #77. See p. 2,19.

Figures 28-30 Gruppenbildnisse einer Gesellschaft. Goethe. Pencil drawing. 1765-68. Femmel i, #31-33. See p. 220.

Figure 31 Figurenskizze zu einem Gruppenbildnis. Goethe. 1765-68. Femmel i, #34. See p. 220.

Figure 32 Szene aus dem Hofleben. Water-colour silhouette (undated). See p. 220.

Figure 33 Vielfigiirige Biihnenszene. Goethe. Pencil drawing. Ca. 1790, Femmel VIA, #125. See p. 221.

Figure 34 Design for Act v of Eginard. Goethe. Pen and sepia. 1808. Femmel VIA, #126. See p. 221.

Figure 35 Die Erkennung des Orestes durch Iphigenie. Johann Heinrich Wilhelm Tischbein (1751-1829). Naples 1788 (undated). See p. ^^^.

Figure 36

Lady Hamilton in a Classical Attitude (u

Figure 37 Lady Hamilton as Thalia. Copper etching. Raphael Morghen (1758-1833) based on a drawing by Gavinus Hamilton (1723—98). Rome (undated). See p. 223.

Figure 38 Miss Harte [Lady Hamilton] as Sibylle. Tischbein (undated). See p. 223.

Figure 39 Karikatur auf hofisches Theater. Watercolour drawing. S. Trifft (?). Ca. 1800. See p. 224.

Figure 40 Iphigenie auf Tauris, i. Akt, i. Szene. Schwerdgeburth after Ramberg. Minerva 1827. See p. 224.

8 Acting 3: Image in Society

Soon after arriving in Weimar in 1775, Goethe drew a picture showing Weimar's river Ilm, which today still flows modestly through the municipal park, a stone's throw from Goethe's impressive city house on the Frauenplan, from Frau von Stein's, and from Schiller's nearby (see Figure 23, p. 2.00).' One passes the Anna Amalia Library where Goethe served as director from 1797 to his last year, and in a few steps reaches the park, the path winding down through the narrow grotto of volcanic stone, over the small bridge still traversing the river, and across the meadow to the little garden house in the background of the drawing. Goethe's Gartenhaus remains, and around it are the gardens he planned, enjoyed, and used for botanical experiments, the plants, the stones, the benches, still waiting to serve their purpose. Standing at the spot today, the imagination can drift back easily to Goethe's age and grasp the significance the setting had for him. He made several more drawings like this one, and understandably, for this path - across the park, over the bridge, and up to his garden house became more and more the way to the happy refuge of a man increasingly set upon by the demands of civic and state affairs. Goethe loved the house and its garden from the day he acquired it (21 April 1776) to the day he died, living there happily with Christiane Vulpius and entertaining his closest friends.2 Femmel identifies the two characters on the right in the drawing as "Charlotte und Fritz von Stein," as if on their way to pay him a visit, but their presence in his picture points to a feature in the depiction that the modern visitor will not see - the gate on the bridge. Goethe had this gate installed, indeed with a lock, and much to the annoyance of others, such as Wieland, who was excluded, he distributed keys only to a select few (Ahrendt, 15). This gate, the bridge, the image in its entirety, tell the story of a man who became increasingly aloof as he

2io

Images of Goethe through Schiller's Egmont

grew older, increasingly separated from the public, partly by necessity, partly by inclination, a man with two lives, like his Egmont, a "Schauspieler" (Graham, 183). The picture is a symbolic depiction of Goethe's personal and psychological predicament and shows his use of the visual arts as a reflection of his inner state, a tendency we shall explore in this chapter. ART AND LIFE

The conclusive writing phase for Egmont occurred during Goethe's Italian journey. Goethe set out from Karlsbad on 3 September 1786 and returned to Weimar on 18 June ijSS.3 His correspondence between 1774 and September 1786 contains references which show that he was hard at work on Egmont for this entire period, having left for Italy with a partial manuscript. Communications with his principal collaborators, Philipp Christoph Kayser for the music (which he delivered personally to Goethe in Rome),4 Angelika KaufFmann for the title page etching (she was also with Goethe on part of the trip, WA i, 32,137/478.), Herder for prepublication criticism (WAi, 32,136-7), political approval from the Duke, all occurred in Italy. Goethe's correspondence from the time contains dozens of references to these individuals and to his work on the play.5 The purpose of the Italian journey was to escape Weimar and immerse himself in classical culture and art, in an entirely different landscape. The published "Paralipomena" to the Italian Journey, summarizing Goethe's itinerary during the trip, make this clear through a chart constructed of eleven parallel columns recording "Monat und Feste ... Localitaten und Merkwiirdigkeiten ... Kunstwerke ... Kunstarbeiten ... Kunstbetrachtungen ... Naturgegenstande ... Naturbetrachtungen ... Poetische Arbeiten ... Personlichkeiten ... Zufalligkeiten ... Allgemeine Betrachtungen." These show that, beside his own writing, art and nature were demonstrably the main focuses of his activity and thought. He continued to write Egmont as he travelled, and from June to September 1787 experienced four months of the most intense writing on the play, thus bringing it to completion. "Egmont ist fertig!" he wrote jubilantly to three different people at the end of this time.6 The "Paralipomena" contain the entries: "Reflexionen iiber Egmont... Einwirkungen der bildenden Kunst auf Poesie ... Reflexionen iiber sich selbst" (December 1787, WA I, 32, 487). Indeed, his writings and correspondence at the time show repeated connections not just between Egmont and the visual arts, but between these and his personal psychological state and place in society, in other words not just physical images drawn or painted by himself and others, but his self-image, his image in the eyes of others, and his image of mankind. This was part of a process that had begun with the inception of Egmont', Goethe's earliest mention of the play coming in I774-7 While from the correspondence of the Italian journey he seems to have finished Egmont in Rome in the early autumn of 1787, that was really just the end of the first of three phases. Scholars have traditionally emphasized only the initial period, when Egmont was

in

Image in Society

written, betraying their primary focus on the poetic text alone. The other two are just as important for understanding the work itself and its place within Goethe's development. The second phase began with the production failures in Mainz, Frankfurt, and Weimar (1789 and 1791), and then there were seven years of silence - virtually no correspondence or other reference to the play in Goethe's writings8 - until 1796, when Schiller and Iffland came to the rescue. Then references to Egmont returned, but as we know, the revision left Goethe and many others uncomfortable. The third phase includes the decade surrounding the pivotal year 1810 when Beethoven's score was added, during which time Goethe worked repeatedly at revising, directing, and producing the play, as both correspondence and performance records show.9 At the end of this third phase, forty years after he began Egmont, Goethe was able to look back in Dichtung und Wahrheitvtith the increased understanding of maturity to describe the genesis of the work and its connections to his own situation in life from its inception in 1774.10 Waiting in the carriage that would take him in to Weimar to begin his service to the Duke in 1775, he was filled understandably with a mixture of doubt, uncertainty, and hope for a new life, as marked decades later in Egmont s words at the conclusion of Dichtung und Wahrheit: " Wie von unsichtbaren Geistern gepeitscht, gehen die Sonnenpferde der Zeit mit unsers Schicksals leichtem Wagen durch, und uns bleibt nichts als, mutig gefafit, die Ziigel festzuhalten und bald rechts, bald links, vom Steine hier, vom Sturze da, die Rader wegzulenken. Wohin es geht, wer weifi es? Erinnert er sich doch kaum, woher er kam!" (WA I, 29, 192; compare [80-1]) This attests to the enduring importance of both the image of the "Sonnenpferd" and of Egmont in Goethe's mind. The figure of the Regentin was also akin to his own in some ways, as he put it in an early letter to Charlotte von Stein: "Geht mir auch wie Margreten von Palma: ich sehe viel voraus das ich nicht andern kann" (Jan. 1776; WA iv, 3, 22). Goethe's self-identification with the character of Egmont continued throughout these decades, and in a letter of 7 Nov. 1780 to Charlotte, the fifth anniversary of his arrival in Weimar, Goethe again quotes directly from the play: "Ich rekapituliere in der Stille mein Leben seit diesen 5 Jahren, und finde wunderbare Geschichten. Der Mensch ist doch wie ein Nachtganger. Er steigt die gefahrlichsten Kanten im Schlafe" (WA iv, 5, i; compare [76]). The writing of Egmont WAS for him at times even a substitute for Charlotte when propriety and opportunity kept them apart: "Mein Egmont ist die einzige frohe Aussicht ... das einzige was ich zwischen mein Verlangen zu dir einschieben kann dafi es mir nicht schmerzlich wird" (20 March 1782; WA iv, 5, 283). By the time he had finished the play, acquaintances and friends were quick to draw parallels between his stage characters and their author. Caroline Herder obviously savoured the delicious titbit, intimated in a note to her husband: "Ich habe nun das Geheimnis von der Stein selbst, warum sie mit Goethe nicht mehr recht gut sein will. Er hat die junge Vulpius zu seinem Clarchen, und lafit sie oft zu sich kommen etc. Sie verdenkt ihm dies sehr. Da er ein so vorziiglicher Mensch ist, auch

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Images of Goethe through Schiller's Egmont

schon vierzig Jahr alt 1st, so sollte er nichts tun, wodurch er sich zu den andern so herabwiirdigt" (8 March 1789; Goethes Gespriichei, 471). How the "etc." must have excited Frau Herder's imagination! These self-references, supplemented by many others, broaden our understanding of Goethe's psychological and biographical identification with the play and its protagonist. The link is personal and increasingly understandable within the context of Goethe's political and social world. In entries in his journal during the Italian journey he remarks on the connection between his play and the current instability in Brussels: "Ich bin fleifiig, mein Egmont riickt sehr vor. Sonderbar ist's, dafi sie eben jetzt in Briissel die Scene spielen, wie ich sie vor zwolf Jahren aufschrieb, man wird vieles jetzt fur Pasquill halten" (Rome, 9 July 1787; WA i, 32, 31), and "Scenen in Briissel. Wirkliche Gegenbilder zu denen in Egmont" (7 July 1787; i, 32, 477). Among many others, Conrady discusses the actuality of the uprisings at this time in Brussels and rebellion of die Netherlanders against Emperor Joseph n, arguing that Goethes apparent support for the Netherlands is not a contradiction of his rejection of the French revolution, since the latter was an attempt to overturn established rights and practices, while the Dutch wanted to retain them; in both cases Goethe's position is politically conservative (478-9). Even near the end of his life Goethe was still engaging his readers and spectators in private discussion of Egmont on this point, as with Herrn H, to whom he said: "Ich schrieb den Egmont im Jahre 1775, also vor funfig [sic] Jahren. Ich hielt mich sehr treu an die Geschichte und strebte nach moglichster Wahrheit. Als ich darauf zehn Jahre spater in Rom war, las ich in den Zeitungen, dafi die geschilderten revolutionaren Szenen in den Niederlanden sich buchstablich wiederholten. Ich sah daraus, da6 die Welt immer dieselbige bleibt und dafi meine Darstellung einiges Leben haben mufite" (MA xix, 122). Friedrich Sengle outlines the genesis of Egmont as an historical drama and confidently summarizes in the context of Goethe's biography: "Soweit die Entstehungsgeschichte des Werkes, zum Beweis, dass es kein blosses Charakterdrama ist, sondern eine sehr eigenartige und tiefe Verschmelzung bekenntnismassig-personlicher und historisch-nationaler Elemente" (36). However we may assess Goethe's politics in this light, Egmont was a turning point for him as he awaited the Duke's carriage to take him to Weimar in 1775, just as it reflected a pivotal point in European history, as he explained from the distance of Dichtung und Wahrheit: "Nachdem ich im Gotz von Berlichingen das Symbol einer bedeutenden Weltepoche nach meiner Art abgespiegelt hatte, sah ich mich nach einem ahnlichen Wendepunct der Staatengeschichte sorgfaltig urn. Der Aufstand der Niederlande gewann meine Aufmerksamkeit"; and "Unter die einzelnen Theile der Weltgeschichte, die ich sorgfaltiger studirte, gehorten auch die Ereignisse welche die nachher vereinigten Niederlande so beriihmt gemacht. Ich hatte die Quellen fleifiig erforscht und mich moglichst unmittelbar zu unterrichten und mir alles lebendig zu vergegenwartigen gesucht. Hochst dramatisch waren mir die Situationen erschienen und als Hauptfigur, um welche sich die

213

Image in Society

iibrigen am gliicklichsten versammeln liefien, war mir Graf Egmont aufgefallen, dessen menschlich ritterliche Grofie mir am meisten behagte" (WA i, 29, 162, 174-5). The first quotation reinforces the notion of the Brussels revolt as an historical watershed, the second provides a link between that and Goethe's personal identification. He moulded this fictional character: "ich gab ihm die ungemessene Lebenslust, das granzenlose Zutrauen zu sich selbst, die Gabe, alle Menschen an sich zu ziehen (attrattiva) und so die Gunst des Volks, die stille Neigung einer Fiirstin, die ausgesprochene eines Naturmadchens, die Theilnahme eines Staatsklugen zu gewinnen, ja selbst den Sohn seines grofiten Widersachers fur sich einzunehmen" (175). Much of this portrait was of Goethe himself by the time he wrote it, also a man of great self-confidence, long a folklegend as a writer from his Sturm und Drang days, a confidant of upper class ladies, a lover of simpler women, and with a strong hand in state affairs. From the earliest stages of Egmont, Goethe's personal relationships played a prominent role. His father viewed his joining Duke Carl August's service in Weimar with some scepticism, but at least as an escape from his somewhat unsatisfactory past and an opportunity for responsible advancement in the future. It is with mixed feelings that Goethe recalled in Dichtung und Wuhrheit his father's encouragement to write on the Egmont theme, but also the intense pressure to which he was subjected in doing so: Meinen Vater hatte ich davon auf das lebhafteste unterhalten, was zu thun sei, was ich thun wolle, da£ ihm diefi so uniiberwindliches Verlangen gab, dieses in meinem Kopf schon fertige Snick auf dem Papiere, es gedruckt, es bewundert zu sehen. ... Ich fing also wirklich Egmont zu schreiben an, und zwar nicht wie den ersten Gotz von Berlichingen in Reih' und Folge, sondern ich griff nach der ersten Einleitung gleich die Hauptscenen an, ohne mich um die allenfallsigen Verbindungen zu bekiimmern. Damit gelangte ich weit, indem ich bei meiner laBIichen Art zu arbeiten von meinem Vater, es ist nicht iibertrieben, Tag und Nacht angespornt wurde, da er das so leicht Entstehende auch leicht vollendet zu sehen glaubte. (i, 29,162-3)

As the play progressed, Goethe read excerpts to his father, revealing his assessment of a parent with far more practical concerns on his mind than literary merit: "so schrieb ich an meinem Egmont fort und brachte ihn beinahe zu Stande. Ich las ihn meinem Vater vor, der eine ganz eigne Neigung zu diesem Stuck gewann, und nichts mehr wiinschte, als es fertig und gedruckt zu sehen, weil er hoffte, dafi der gute Ruf seines Sohnes dadurch sollte vermehrt werden" (i, 29,182). When he left for Weimar in 1775, the tension between paternal censure and approval remained, but after the death of Goethe's father in 1780 the Duke in effect replaced him. In light of its revolutionary content, the completed work understandably required the approval of Goethe's master, to whom he sent the finished manuscript with a mixture of subservience and trepidation. A series of

214 Images of Goethe through Schiller's Egmont letters from Italy record the Duke's role. After sending him a copy of the completed work, Goethe wrote to him from Rome expressing the hope that the ruler would find time to read it (8 Dec 1787; WA IV, 8, 305), and soon after that His Highness would be pleased and find the time to respond (16 Feb. 1788; WA iv, 8, 349). Not long after, Goethe received a grudging approval, and replied in this way: Ihr Brief, mein bester Fiirst und Herr, in welchem Sie mir Ihre Gedancken iiber Egmont eroffnen, hat das Verlangen nur vermehrt mich mit Ihnen iiber solche und andre Gegenstande miindlich zu unterhalten. Bemerckungen wie die, welche Sie mir schreiben, sind zwar fur den Autor nicht sehr trostlich, bleiben aber doch dem Menschen ausserst wichtig und wer beyde in sich nie getrennt hat weifi solche Erinnerungen zu schatzen und zu nutzen. Einiges was Ihnen nicht behagte liegt in der Form und Constitution des Stiicks und war nicht zu andern ohne es aufzuheben. Andres z.B. die Bearbeitung des ersten Ackts, hatte mit Zeit und Mufie wohl nach Ihren Wiinschen geschehen konnen. Noch andres, wie z.B. die Aufierung Machiavellens, war mit einem Federstrich ausgeloscht." Es war ein schweres Unternehmen, ich hatte nie geglaubt es zu vollenden, nun steht das Stuck da, mehr wie es seyn konnte als wie es seyn sollte. Gewifi auch konnte kein gefahrlicherer Leser fur das Snick seyn als Sie. Wer selbst auf dem Punckte der Existenz steht um welchen der Dichter sich spielend dreht, dem konnen die Gauckeleyen der Poesie, welche aus dem Gebiet der Wahrheit ins Gebiet der Luge schwanckt weder genug thun, weil er es befier weifi, noch konnen sie ihn ergotzen, weil er zu nah steht und es vor seinem Auge kein Ganzes wird. Doch alles sey auf die guten Stunden aufgespart, die ich mir neben Ihnen verspreche. (28 March 1788; WA I, 8, 365-6) With this self-deprecating diplomatic response Goethe was able to breathe a sigh of relief. He had succeeded in gaining the approval of his enlightened, albeit all-powerful, aristocratic ruler for a work whose protagonist essentially condemned aristocratic abuse of the social hierarchy.12 Here are some of the lines the Duke had read: EGMONT. 1st des Konigs Gunst ein so schmaler Grund? ORANIEN. So schmal nicht, aber schliipfrig [105], and,

EGMONT. Wie selten kommt ein Konig zu Verstand. ... ich kenne meine Landsleute. ... zu driicken sind sie, nicht zu unterdriicken [216]. ALBA. [217] der sich indefi einigemal umgesehen hat Solltest du das alles in des Konigs Gegenwart wiederhohlen? EGMONT. Desto schlimmer, wenn mich seine Gegenwart abschreckte! desto besser fur ihn, fur sein Volck, wenn er mir Muth machte, noch mehr zu sagen.

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Beyond the hurdle of the Duke, Goethe had the general public to consider. After Egmont reached readers' hands in 1788 and the eyes and ears of theatre audiences in 1789, he took a lively part in discussing the play. He showed an obvious concern about - and an obvious sensitivity to - others' opinions of it. His public image in connection with Egmontwas evidently important to him. To his devoted servant Philipp Friedrich Seidel (1755—1820) he wrote from Rome, "so wird doch schon dieses Stuck hinreichend seyn, das Publicum zu iiberzeugen, dafi ich noch bey Sinnen bin" ([8 Dec 1787]; WA iv, 8, 308). He expressed to Friedrich Heinrich Jacobi (1743-1819) and Charlotte's husband Heinrich Friedrich Carl von Stein (1757-1831) his pleasure that they liked the play (21 July and 16 Nov. 1788; WA iv, 9, 4 and 59) and similarly to Carl Ludwig von Knebel (1744-1834): "Ich ho're von fern, und kann es ohne das vermuthen daft mein Egmont in alle Welt ausgangen ist. Ich wiinsche dafi er auch gedruckt meinen Freunden Freude mache, die ihm, da er als Manuscript kam eine gute Aufnahme gonnten" (24 May 1788; WA iv, 8, 376). To Anton von Klein (1748-1810), who had engaged a performance of Iphigenie at his residence and commented positively on Egmont, he wrote effusively: "Ich wufoe langst welch ein unpartheyischer Beurdieiler, und welch ein nachsichtsvoller Richter fremder Produktionen Sie sind, weshalb es nicht anmafilich von mir war, Ihrer giitigen Theilnahme an meinem poetischen Wirken mich versichert zu halten. ... Was Sie iiber meinen Egmont sagen ist ganz richtig, und unterschreibe ich in Allem Ihren Ausspruch" (17 April 1789; WA iv, 18, 36-7). Finally, in a lengthy commentary on several letters from Weimar in 1788, Goethe wrote an extensive response to objections about the play's structure, length, and especially about the treatment of Klarchen, which he defended vigorously, even citing Angelika Kauffmann upon whom he called for support from the female point of view (WA\, 32,179-81). Goethe's sensitivity reached a peak once again, when Egmont was performed in Schiller's adaptation in 1796. Writing to Charlotte von Kalb, he expressed his pleasure that she had attended the performance die previous evening, and seems delighted by her praise: "Von Ihrem herzlichen Antheil an der gestrigen Auffuhrung war ich iiberzeugt und ich freute mich, Sie gegenwartig zu wissen. ... Leben Sie recht wohl und haben Sie tausend Danck fur Ihr freundliches Wort" ([26 April 1796]; WA iv, n, 58). Yet it is uncertain whether or not Goethe attended die premiere of Schiller's adaptation at all, and hence uncertain whether he ever personally witnessed Schiller's adjustments, especially his scene with the masked and demasked Alba. De la Motte-Fouque claims that in a conversation with him in die winter of 1813 Goethe said he did not see die performance: "Zufallig war ich damals just in Ilmenau" (28-9). Near die end of his life he claimed to Eckermann that he had lost interest in Egmont and was simply too busy with other things. When Eckermann suggested that he had perhaps given Schiller too much of a free hand, Goethe replied: "Man ist oft gleichgiiltiger als billig. ... Und dann war ich in jener Zeit mit anderen Dingen tief beschaftigt. Ich hatte so wenig ein Interesse fur Egmont wie fur das Theater; ich liefS ihn

g e w a h r e n . J e t z t i s t e s we n i g s t e n s e i n T r o s t f u r mi c h , d a f i d a s S t i c g e w a h r e n . J e t z t i s t e s we n i g s t e n s e i n T r o s t f u r mi c h , d a f i d a s S t i c k g e d r u c k t k g e d r u c k t

dasteht, und dafi es Biihnen gibt, die verstandig genug sind, es treu und oh

Verkiirzung ganz so aufzufiihren wie ich es geschrieben" (MA xix, 290). Although his correspondence and other writings show that he was little concerned with Egmont between 1791 and 1796, as we have seen, it is difficult to imagine that Goethe would miss such a premiere. Schiller wrote to him on April 21, "Montag [25.] abends, noch voll und trunken von der Reprasentation des 'Egmont', sehen wir uns wieder" (Graf n, i, 304). Goethe entertained friends at home on die evenings of April 22, 23, and 24, and wrote a letter from there on 25 April 1796 (Steiger, 459), but none of this proves his presence at the premiere. The uncertainty itself shows something about his character. If he was in fact in Ilmenau, then he deliberately missed Schiller's adaptation. Was it too upsetting to see his work distorted? Was he made so uncomfortable by its corruption? Was he so offended by die changes he knew Schiller had made that he could not bring himself to watch them? But Goethe had agreed to cooperate with Schiller and had welcomed his contribution from the start. The answers to any of these questions cast Goethe either as an artist whose aesthetic sensitivity was so delicate that he could not bear to have it offended, or as a man so arrogant that he could not risk experiencing another's success where he had failed. Or was he simply no longer interested at all? To be entirely fair, in the end we cannot base a conclusion on a source such as De la Motte-Fouque alone, who may himself be in error. We simply do not know if Goethe saw the premiere or not. With regard to specific connections between these personal experiences and the visual arts, we can return to the same entry from the "Paralipomena" to the Italienische Reise: "Reflexionen iiber Egmont ... Einwirkungen der bildenden Kunst auf Poesie ... Reflexionen iiber sich selbst" (December 1787, WA i, 32, 487). There are two ways in which we can understand the phrase "Einwirkungen der bildenden Kunst auf die Poesie," both revealed through this more detailed excerpt from the Paralipomena for the months June to September 1787: Poetische Arb.: Egmont angegr. / Scenen in Briissel. Gegenbilder zu den Egmontischen. Egmont vierter Act. / Egmont fertig / Egmont abgeschlossen. Zeich. Angelikas zu Egm. (^1,31,485) Kunstwerke.: Raphaels Teppiche. Gem. des Volterra. Gallerie Colonna. / Moors Werke. Die Farnesine. Torso des Apoils. Chev. D'Azincourt. Archit. Arbeiten. Gemmen Sammlung des H v. Piombino / Aldobrandini Gallerie. Leonh. da Vinci an der Tages Ordn. Sixtinische Cap. Ritter Worthley. Egypten und Griechen. Ausstellung der Fr. Academic. / Egyptische Gegenst. Obelisken. Zeich. des Casas. Abdr. v. Gemmen. Kunstarbeiten. Verschaffelt lehrt Persp. Menschl. Figur. / Practische Einzelhn. (i, 32,484) Personlichkeiten. ... Tischb. reist nach Neap. (WAi, 32, 485)

The list of "Kunstwerke" points to the fact that Goethe's involvement with art as an observer and critic was astonishingly intense during the critical months of his

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completing Egmont. As observer, he witnessed and discussed thousands of pieces of art, which is also evident from the March 1787 section of the Italienische Reise, where frequent meetings with artists and discussions of paintings are described (i, 31,18-84). Valerian Tornius was probably the first scholar to write in detail about Goethe's concept of theatre and the visual arts (1912). His discussion includes Goethe's own drawings and paintings, and the realization that any talent he had in this sphere was at least matched by inadequacies. Tornius concludes that Goethe's impulse to draw and paint became transferred to the stage as a result (196—7) and that Goethe's theatre praxis can only be understood in light of the visual arts (197 and 204). This includes Goethe's understanding of the relationship between art and nature (198) and the harmonious "Gesamtbild" (203) in the theatre, but while Tornius is able to present a number of convincing examples of die influence of specific visual artists on Goethe and his stage productions, he laments at the same time: "Leider ist das auf uns gekommene Material sehr sparlich, so dafi sich der Einflufi der bildenden Kiinste nicht immer dokumentarisch feststellen lafit" (207). Tornius does not mention Christian Schuchardt's three volumes, Goethe's Kunstsammlungen (1848—49), which give a clear idea of the thousands of drawings and paintings Goethe possessed.13 Tornius makes no specific reference to Egmont, but later scholars have made the argument that Angelika Kauffmann's classic drawing of Egmont and Klarchen (Figure 14) should be seen in conjunction with his study of art works in Italy at the time. Even before Tornius, Richard Meyer (1905) had called attention to the strong connections between Egmont and Goethe's Italian journey, arguing that Egmont should be seen as one of a select triumvirate, along with Ifhigenie and Tasso, uniquely linked to the Italian experience. More recently, Miller and Reinhardt have concluded that the Klarchen scenes were indeed composed in Italy, and we know that this is where Kauffmann produced her famous drawing (MA in, i, 8206). They are only two of the most recent scholars to write extensively on the connection between Egmont and Goethe's Italian experience, and Reinhardt has also paid considerable attention to it in his Egmont article. While the connections Miller and Reinhardt make between Egmont and Goethe's Italian experience are generally well founded, their suggestion that the image of Klarchen descending on a cloud as an allegory of peace be linked to similar Raffaelian images goes too far. The Christ figure in the clouds of Raffael's "Transfiguration," one example of many such works (see reproduction in Gores, 72), is obviously similar to Schadow's depiction of Klarchen in the vision scene (Figure 10), but Miller and Reinhardt are too caught up in that one example. That picture was Schadow's creation not Goethe's, and thus a connection between Schadow and Italian renaissance painting is more to the point. On the other hand I can support Miller and Reinhardt's rejection of the romantic theorist Adam Miiller's (1779-1829) interpretation of this image as a Christian representation of heavenly ascension (MA n, i, 832). The "Paralipomena" entry, "Kunstarbeiten," also directs us to another way in which we can understand the "Einwirkungen der bildenden Kunst auf die

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Images of Goethe through Schiller's Egmont

Poesie," that is, the interrelationship between Goethe's own production of visual works and his writing. In his 1788 review of Egmont, Schiller used the word "Gemalde" with reference to individual scenes and the structure of the play: "Hier ist keine hervorstechende Begebenheit, keine vorwaltende Leidenschaft, keine Verwickelung, kein dramatischer Plan, nichts von dem allem; - eine blofie Aneinanderstellung mehrerer einzelnen Handlungen und Gemalde, die beinahe durch nichts als durch den Charakter zusammengehalten werden, der an alien Anteil nimmt, und auf den sich alle beziehen" (Nationalausgabexx.ii, 200). Goethe made a similar comment later when contrasting Egmont with Gotz: "ich griff nach der ersten Einleitung gleich die Hauptscenen an, ohne mich um die allenfallsigen Verbindungen zu bekiimmern" (Dichtung und Wahrheit, 4, 9; WA i, 29, 163). Miller and Reinhardt also discuss this attribute and Goethe's so-called "Sinnbildstil" (MA m, I, 819/827.)

GOETHE'S DRAWINGS Goethe's production of visual works during the Italian journey, and indeed throughout his life, is recorded in Femmel's Corpus. It includes many drawings of theatres, theatre architecture, and performances, and although the subject index to several of the volumes contains many references to "Theater," this index is far from complete, for some drawings clearly related to theatre are not listed there and the list could be even longer.14 The chronological organization of Femmel's work provides a ready overview of drawings by Goethe in the period of the Italian journey, the focus of volumes one and two, as well as their possible connection to his writings. One can see at a glance, for example, that the many landscapes Goethe drew in Italy (virtually all of volume two) are very similar to the stage backdrops he painted for the theatre, as in the Saal-Nixe set shown in chapter 8 (Figure 22). Femmel has appropriately used such descriptors as "Blick auf eine Biihne ... Theaterprospekt ... Gefangnisszene ... Biihnenprospekt ... Masken ... Dekorationsentwurf... Biihnenbild ... Vielfigurige Biihnenszene ... Gesprach am Fenster" for drawings related to general unidentified theatre sets and scenes; others are connected to specific roles and performances, for example "Hexenszene aus Macbeth" (i, #302), "Hexenszene aus Faust" (VIB, #216), "Biihnenbild fur Zauberflote Erstauffuhrung" (IVB, #210), "Figurengruppe zu Jeri und Bately" (IVB, #212), "Biihnenbilder zu Faust" (IVB, #222-31), "Theatermaske — Erwin und Elmire" (VIA, #96—97), "Dekoration v Aufzug von Eginard" (VIA, #126), and "Theaterprospekt zu Shakespeares Romeo und Juliet" (VIA, #128). A concentration of drawings relating to Goethe's early plays is noticeable (Faust, Jeri und Bately, Erwin und Elmire), and although no drawing relates specifically to Egmont, the connection between some of its scenes and drawings from the same period seems likely. For example, "Gesprach am Fenster" (i, #227), "Gefangnisszene" (i, #308) and "Kerkerraum" (i, #78) are from this time.15 Other drawings show Goethe's interest in theatre construction and archi-

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tecture, both in general terms, such as "Theaterbau" and "Theaterfassade, Grundrifi, Querschnitt" (VIA, #175-7), °r specifically, as with several antique theatres which he saw during his Italian journeys (for example, #3, 32, 50) and a "Theater, Grundrifi und Querschnitt" (IVB, #130). Many other pictures have no obvious connection with the theatre in a formal sense, but are nevertheless just as theatrical or dramatic as those that do. Remembering the blending of role depiction in acting and society discussed in chapter 6 (Figures 17-19), it is instructive to compare examples of Goethe's drawings not identified with scenes in specific dramatic works with others that are. Looking at Figures 24-7, without knowing which are related to a specific play and which are not, could anyone guess which is which (see Figures 24-2.7, pp. oo)? Is any of these less or more dramatic than the others? Figure 24 is a detailed pencil drawing of a nocturnal intrusion, drawn by Goethe about 176870, in which soldiers burst into a sleeping chamber to take a woman into custody, causing obvious alarm to the prisoner herself and her servant lower right, as seen by their body positions and extreme gestures. Figure 25 is a pencil drawing showing a social group with more than one focus of interest and action, from card playing to reading, and in the centre, with back turned, is a dominant figure, apparently reading from a scroll which must affect them all. Figure 26 is a pencil and pen and ink drawing of 1779 depicting the contemporary practice of pressing recruits into military service through a combination of bribery and force. While this is the overall theme, there are four points of dramatic action the waiting guard lower left, the father being consoled and compensated (centre rear), die young man being measured and categorized (centre right), and the distraught mother being forced from the scene, lower right. This drawing also exhibits a wealth of examples in which body position, gestures, and even facial expressions (especially the mother's) illustrate the action. The drawing is distinguished further by its depth of focus, what filmmakers would call "deep focus," with concurrent action at the front of the scene (soldiers, mother), further back at the middle (recruit), and at the deepest part of the set (father). Figure 27 is again a pencil drawing, this time with a silent drama unfolding among a group of people surrounding a sickbed. Here it is less the action in the scene than the significance of the situation that is dramatic, the passively waiting figure suggesting a general gloom and impending death. From the drawings themselves it is difficult, if not impossible, to say which represents a specific scene of a dramatic work. Interestingly, as obvious from the title (I was tempted to withhold it), only Figure 25 is related to a specific dramatic action, yet it is arguably the least dramatic of the four. The question is, what is a dramatic scene and what is not? In terms of what we can see from Goethe's drawings, the line separating the two is blurred, in other words, the drama of the stage blends with the drama of life and vice versa. The series of pencil and pen-and-ink sketches "Gruppenbildnisse einer Gesellschaft" (Femmel I, #31—4, dated 1765—68) illustrates the point more

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precisely. Figure 28 shows first how the teenaged Goethe represented a social grouping of ladies and gendemen seated in a slighdy curved row, a physical arrangement with a centre depth appropriate for viewing on a stage (see Figure 28, p. oo). The soft curve provides an underlying stucture for the geometric balance and symmetry of this grouping. Although incompletely sketched, each figure has distinct physical characteristics, and the various poses — the tilt of the head, the position of body, legs, and arms — show a variety of relationships between the characters and suggest numerous interactions occurring at the same time. The numbers above and below the characters and the changes we observe in the next version of die scene (Figure 29) show the artist's experimenting with the dynamics of the grouping (see Figure 29, p. oo): Here, the fundamental shape, constellation, and situation are the same as before, but now the number of characters has been reduced from ten to six. Each of these characters clearly has her or his forerunner in Figure 28, but some positions have changed relative to the others and some poses are altered to show a changed relationship with the other characters. For example, the gendeman at the far right in Figure 28 has now changed places with his neighbour to the left there. The gentleman on the far left, an outsider looking in in Figure 28, now seems to have given up on his neighbours and is propping up his head in tired boredom. This is a new dramatic scene, but the same social and physical one as before. Figure 30 shows a further stage of the process toward the dramatization of the grouping (see Figure 30, p. oo): The fundamental shape, constellation, and situation are still the same as before, but with a new character added, die servant on the left. The seated group seems at first glance to have been reduced from six to five, but not so. One character has been moved - the gendeman on the left in Figures 28 and 29 is found now in the right foreground, creating a tightening of the curve towards the centre and making it almost a circle. This seems at first to be a structural turning away from the viewer, but on closer inspection this is not so, for as demonstrated by the inset detail in die right margin of Figure 30, and die single figure study of Figure 31, this gentleman is actually turned to the viewer of the scene (see Figure 31, p. oo). He is physically in the social circle with the others, but mentally separated from it. Through his reaction to what occurs in die circle he is a potentially active link to the audience. The detail of him inserted in the right margin of Figure 30 and the separate sketch of him in Figure 31 demonstrate that for the artist he was the key figure. Finally, Figure 30 is the first of the three to contain a background suggestive of room decoration or a theatrical set. At the time Goethe was in fact planning a drama on the interrelationships of court life, a plan which never came to fruition. A silhouette in Goethe's collection by an unknown artist, depicting four ladies of the Weimar court, can be linked direcdy to this plan (see Figure 32, p. oo): This series of Figures 28-32 showed that even as a teenager, consciously or not, Goethe was drawing social scenes which were at the same time essentially dramatic and theatrical. If we jump ten years, they become more detailed and sophisticated, as seen in the ex-

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amples of the nocturnal scene, forced conscription, social grouping, and sickbed, all of which stem from the late seventies when Goethe's dramatic production moved into full swing. As he became more actively involved in theatre life and production, many drawings became more specifically related to diat sphere, but had their roots in those of earlier years. For example, like the social scenes just discussed, Figure 33 shows a physical arrangement of characters in a slightly curved row falling away at the centre, the soft curve again providing an underlying structure and symmetry (see Figure 33, p. 2,04). The costuming and backround strongly suggest a theatrical set, though the drawing is not specifically identified as such. Compositional similarities link it to Figure 34 (see Figure 34, p. 204): The soft curve is now intensified to create a full sense of stage depth, the set filling the scene from front to back, encasing and reinforcing its dimensionality. This pen and sepia drawing was, in fact, produced by Goethe as a design for Act 5 of the tragic fragment Eginard. ART AND SOCIETY

One of Goethe's intimate social circle on the Italian journey was the artist Johann Heinrich Wilhelm Tischbein (1751-1829), who also painted the famous oil "Goethe in der Campagna di Roma" and the drawing "Goethe am Fenster der romischen Wohnung am Corso," both from the same period 1786/87, and who acted as Goethe's teacher in the practice and history of art.17 In the excerpt from the "Paralipomena" above, we read "Personlichkeiten. ... Tischb. reist nach Neap," and Tischbein's new location in Naples was to prove rewarding in an entirely different way for both himself and Goethe, for even though he left Goethe's company in Rome, he remained in close contact through letters and drawings, as Goethe describes: Wenn wir Tischbeins Gegenwart und EinfluS vermifiten, so hielt er uns dagegen dutch sehr lebendige Briefe moglichst schadlos. Aufier manchen geistreich aufgefafiten wunderlichen Vorfallen und genialen Ansichten erfuhren wir das Nahere durch Zeichnung und Skizze von einem Gemahlde, mit welchem er sich daselbst hervorthat. In halben Figuren sah man darauf Oresten, wie er am Opferaltar von Iphigenien erkannt wird, und die ihn bisher verfolgenden Furien soeben entweichen. Iphigenie war das wohlgetroffene Bildnif? der Lady Hamilton, welche damals auf dem hochsten Gipfel der Schonheit und des Ansehens glanzte. Auch eine der Furien war durch die Ahnlichkeit mit ihr veredelt, wie sie denn uberhaupt als Typus fur alle Heroinen, Musen und Halbgottinnen gelten mufoe. Ein Kiinstler, der dergleichen vermochte, war in dem bedeutenden geselligen Kreise eines Ritter Hamilton sehr wohl aufgenommen. (i, 32, 53—4)

The passage provides insights into the relationships between die work of visual artists, such as Tischbein, and Goethe's social circle at the time. Although his presence is missed and his letters enjoyed, one mode of communication between

2Z2 Images of Goethe through Schiller's Egmont the absent artist and Goethe's circle was Tischbeins sketches and drawings. These were in turn stages toward the striking oil entitled "Die Erkennung des Orestes durch Iphigenie," depicting Iphigenie, Orest, and the furies (see Figure 35, p. oo): The theme of die painting is meaningful in several ways. It is a popular, conventional subject of the age, and relates to Goedie's own success in acting the scene with Corona Schroter at the Weimar Liebhaberdieater (Figure 21), but also to a social rage caused by the mystique of a renowned beauty, a fascination that has even penetrated our own century as witnessed by That Hamilton Woman, a feature film starring Laurence Olivier and Vivian Leigh (1941, Alexander Korda, director). "Iphigenie war das wohlgetroffene BildniK der Lady Hamilton," writes Goethe, as if this fictional character of text and stage has been transformed into the model used to represent her, rather than the reverse, adding that one of the furies behind is even ennobled by a resemblance to this image of a classical heroine, muse, or goddess. Through Goethe's description, the significance of the historical, mythical, and dramatic scene takes second place behind his glorification of the idealized Lady Hamilton "auf dem hochsten Gipfel der Schonheit und des Ansehens." Goethe's final sentence — "Ein Kunstler, der dergleichen vermochte, war in dem bedeutenden geselligen Kreise eines Ritter Hamilton sehr wohl aufgenommen" - demonstrates his distinct approval of the fact diat Tischbeins ability to transfer the historical, mythical, and dramatic legacy to the real figure of Lady Hamilton was a guaranteed entrance to that social circle, that "bedeutenden geselligen Kreis," in Goethe's own words. Through the visual arts, stage characters became a currency for admission to desirable social spheres. The phenomenon of Lady Hamilton requires some amplification. Emma Hamilton (1761-1815), born Lyon, also called herself Hart and was dubbed "Miss Arte." She was the second wife of the Englishman Sir William Hamilton (1730-1803) and for some years concurrently lover of the renowned British naval hero Admiral Horatio Viscount Nelson (1758-1805). Sir William was an avid art collector, spending much of his time in Italy, and at the same time enjoying the social intercourse of the intellectual and artistic society there. One of their cultural diversions was to observe such women as Lady Hamilton assuming classical poses in costume. Lady Hamilton was celebrated for her tableaux-vivants, a series of dramatic poses in Greek garb, Niobe, Nymphe, Iphigenie, and Sibylle, for example. The poses became known as "Attitiiden" and the popularity of viewing them as a sociocultural event became widespread in Italy and other parts of Europe. During his Italian journey, Goedie met Emma Hart in Naples (1787) at Lord Hamilton's residence and saw her in a series of poses in Greek attire. In Realizations, Martin Meisel refers at length to just one German dramatist. In a chapter on Thackeray and Goethe, he writes, "the most complete artistphilosopher of the age crossed the track of Lady Hamilton at least once, and that of Vanity Fair several times. For one thing, Johann Wolfgang von Goethe anticipated by thirty years Thackeray's use in fiction of the conjunction of the

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theatrical and the pictorial in tableaux vivants" (340). Meisel links "attitudes" and the tableaux vivants presented by Lucinde and Ottilie in the WMverwandschaften to specific paintings, as Goethe had intended (343-6), and discusses their influence on Thackeray, who visited Goethe in Weimar in 1830 and 1831 and translated some of his works. But Meisel makes no reference to Goethe's dramaturgy in general and the role the notion such static figures had in his overall aesthetic concept for theatre. He might well have done so. Figures 36 and 37 (pp. oo, oo) show two examples of how Lady Hamilton looked. Figure 36 shows her in a general classical attitude, while Figure 37 shows her in much the same pose, but this time identified as Thalia (the work was in Goethe's personal art collection, Schuchardt 214, #4). A third example demonstrates how the artistic depiction of such poses was transferred to the sphere of dramatic literature. Figure 38 (p. oo) is an upper-body oil portrait of Lady Hamilton as the prophetess Sibylle, a depiction which was appropriated by Tischbein and integrated into "Iphigenie erkennt den Orest" (Figure 35 above), the subject of his letters just discussed. The similarity between Sibylle's face, her glance, even her head garb, and Tischbein's Iphigenie leave no doubt about the source;'8 and as Goethe suggested in his praise of Lady Hamilton above, it looks as if the same face served as a model for the fury to the left of Orest s head as well. In "Antike als Gesellschaftsspiel," Hannelore Schlaffer discusses the social significance of the eighteenth-century German passion for antiquity, performing something like an autopsy of classicism..Through the examples of Tischbeins and Friedrich Rehberg's (1758-1835) drawings of classical poses inspired by the antiquities in Sir William Hamilton's collection, Schlaffer demonstrates a cultural transfer from the foreign artefact to the bourgeois world of German fashion. It was clear that the public's fascination for the attitudes of Lady Hamilton and others was by no means purely aesthetic. One of the most famous posers or "Attituden-Darstellerinnen" was the one-time Berlin actress, Johanna Henriette Rosine Hendel-Schiitz (1772—1849), who, when her acting career was endangered by her inability to remember her lines, took up the new profession of "AttitiidenDarstellerin" and gained fame through international tours across Europe. Her audiences were largely men who marvelled at her changing poses and fine figure, and SchlafFer clearly views this performance as little more than a peep-show in artistic guise. In 1795 the Journal des Luxus und der Moden, one of the most widely read magazines of the day, published an article by Carl August Bottiger on these drawings and poses, the same Bottiger who worked closely with Goethe at the Weimar theatre and described Iffland's Weimar performances in 1796, claiming them to be models of bearing and comportment for German women (Schlaffer, 298-9). Kraus was coeditor of the Journal.'9 On one level it was a respectable and serious review of artistic and social issues, containing theatre reviews, opinion pieces, and articles of literary and journalistic quality. But the journal was also an organ for gossip and fashion. Theatre reviews frequently focussed on

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costumes, particularly those of the women, making it clear that these actresses were not only figures of artistic and aesthetic interest, but fashion trendsetters as well. The Journal des Luxus und der Moden shows that what was happening on the Weimar stage had meaning well beyond the level of the purely artistic and aesthetic; it had an underlying social significance beyond the content of the works performed. Goethe's line, drawn at die proscenium between the ideal aesthetic harmony on the Weimar stage and the audience beyond, was a fiction. In fact, the audience was appropriating that vision for entirely different ends. A watercolour from Goethe's private collection illustrates more accurately the focus of much of their attention (see Figure 39, p. oo): This is a caricature of the court around 1800 showing, on the right side, a chaotic theatre performance led by the comic figure Hanswurst and attended with great enthusiasm by an audience made up of common folk and soldiers. On the left is a private, more refined "artistic" performance, attended by members of the upper bourgeoisie and the court. The caption reads, Mir Traumt sie haben Comedia gspielt Die Narren mit Geld sich den Hut angfullt War lustig zu Schaun. Die Andern was Gscheiters seynd gangen zu horen Konnten vor Schlaf nicht die Augen aufspern Drob wollte mirs Graun.

The language is clearly "wienerisch," but the situation had a significance far wider than that court milieu, and one that reached as far as Weimar, where it obviously tickled Goethe's fancy. The verses make clear the contrast between popular and elevated performances, but while their thrust is mainly to satirize the latter, there is more to say than just that. Unlike the play on the right side, the three female performers on the left have no apparent dramatic context — but does their audience really care? What they do have are their classical costumes, softly falling, revealing ample shapeliness to a largely male audience.20 How far is it from such a picture to this contemporary drawing (see Figure 40, p. oo): This shows shows not just any woman in classical costume, but Iphigenie in her familiar shoreline stance, gazing towards her homeland. How much of the poetics and how much of the physical allure contributed to the impression made by this picture on Goethe and his contemporaries? The same question could be asked of course of other stage characters at the time, and lest the argument be skewed entirely to the female side, the reader might wish to glance once again at Tischbein's undeniably erotic depiction of Orest (Figure 35), or even recall Kraus's painting of Goethe himself in the role (Figure 21).

Figure 41 Egmont. Schauspielhaus, Frankfurt 1986.

9 Goethe and Egmont Today: Stage and Screen

E G M O N T ON STAGE 1832-1969

The reception of Egmont during Goethe's lifetime was primarily as a stage work. It is useful to remember this fact since by the early decades of our century the juggernaut of literary criticism had successfully deflected this emphasis on performance to the discussion of Egmont as dramatic literature. Recent literary studies of Goedie and Egmont pay more attention to die contemporary reception of audiences, but there exists no detailed analysis of its performance since the 19205. In chapter 4 we eavesdropped on those who saw performances in Goethe's lifetime. The second major period in Egmont's stage life carried it through the nineteenth century and the First World War, for most of which time it was treated primarily as a stage work, as summarized by Eugen Kilian's Goethes Egmont aufder Biihne (1925). An experienced and accomplished theatre man, and chief director of the Munich Hoftheater from 1908 to 1916, Kilian represented a generation of experts who understood the play's theatrical strengths and weaknesses. After an historical overview of its genesis and contemporary performance, act by act and scene by scene, with reference to productions on a large number of German stages since Goethe's time, Kilian provides a detailed description of how Egmont could, and in his view should, be performed. His feelings are often strong, with no sympathy for philistines' whims or preferences; when discussing Beethoven's score, for example, he sneers: "Die Wirkung dieses herrlichen Musikstilcks ... wird natiirlicherweise abgeschwacht, wenn sich ... der Genufi belegter Brotchen und die Unterhaltung des Alltags mit banausischer Gewalt eindrangt" (82). Kilian points out that for decades after 1796 Egmontv/as performed primarily in Schiller's adaptation or as a mixture of that and Goethe's original, as we have

227 Goethe and Egmont Today seen in chapter 4.' He goes on to show that Goethe gained sway toward the end of the nineteenth century, yet almost every performance nevertheless betrayed something of Schiller's contribution until the turn of our century. Kalian takes the general position that Schiller damaged Goethe's work, insisting that it was "von dem Bearbeiter zerstort" (30), and produced "einen unwiederbringlichen Verlust" (31). He maligns one of Schiller's new scenes as an "iiblen Theaterstreich" (35), and goes so far as to say: "Schillers Hand [hat] in dieser Beziehung in wahrhaft grausamer Weise gewiitet" (37). Kilians final word on such literary violence is: "Schillers Bearbeitung ist eines der lehrreichsten literaturgeschichtlichen Zeugnisse dafiir, dafi ein groSer schopferischer Genius dem Schaffen eines anderen nur selten in vollem MaEe gerecht zu werden vermag" (39). If one genius cannot do it for another, then who can? Kilian names no successful examples, and while he does not go so far as to discount the notion of successful adaptation, he stops well short of that conclusion. Had he lived in our time, Kilian would have been forced to reject virtually every Egmont production in the last quarter century. Kilian's position reveals not just stage wisdom, but a penchant for the deification of Goethe, a problem with which some of his fellow Germans still wrestle. In the section on "Allgemeine Grundsatze fur die heutige Auffiihrung" he calls it a "selbstverstandliche Pflicht" to perform Goethe's version (58). His justification is the typical late-nineteenth, and well into the mid twentieth-century "geisteswissenschaftliche ... Achtung vor dem Gesamtkunstwerk" (57), a notion of unity miraculously intact despite the collapse of the great European empires a half dozen years before and the political and philosophical fragmentation that resulted. Connections between Goethe and Beethoven consecrated the notion of artistic unity even more: "Heute ist Goethes Egmont und Beethovens Musik ein untrennbares Ganzes unseres nationalen Besitzes geworden" (76f.); and "Das Doppelwerk Goethe-Beethovens ist ein einzig dastehendes Denkmal unseres klassischen Kunstschatzes" (78). Even when Kilian feels constrained to observe that Beethoven's music just does not fit the final act, he nevertheless calls any substitution nothing more than "Barbarei" (212). His enthusiasm becomes embarrassing in such hyperbole as: "Das Gesprach zwischen Egmont und Oranien, das den [zweiten] Akt beschliefit, ist eines der hochsten Meisterwerke Goethescher Kunst und gehort in seiner Art wohl zum Vbllendetsten, was in der dramatischen Weltliteratur auf ahnlichem Gebiete zu finden ist" (132). Perhaps if one removed the qualifiers "in seiner Art," "wohl," and "auf ahnlichem Gebiete" Kilian does not really claim as much as it first seems and can be forgiven, yet he ends his book with this patriotic reminder: "Hier ist es Ehrenpflicht einer fiihrenden Biihne, die Zuhorer an die bedingungslose Achtung zu gewohnen, die dem einzig dastehenden Doppelwerke unserer beiden Kunstheroen zukommt" (218). Fortunately, many directors have ignored this command, less concerned about the glorification of icons and more intent on relating their work to the modern world. To be fair, Kilian also writes: "vom Gesichtspunkte

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Images of Goethe through Schiller's Egmont

des Theatralikers ist Schiller bei seinen dramaturgischen Aenderungen in vielen, ja in den meisten Punkten im Rechte gewesen" (39), calling the adaptation's longevity "ein Zeugnis fur ihre unleugbaren und starken theatralischen Vorziige" (53). Having knelt at the altar, he is now overheard in the confessional, and while his book is an exercise in contradiction, it is Kilian ludens, not Kilian sapiens who most interests me. His critical insights into many "classic" nineteenth and early twentieth-century Egmont productions, their directors, stages, and actors remain invaluable, even if most of his criticisms are based on the belief that the artistic unity of the original and the intentions of its creator must be maintained at all costs. Max Reinhardt s theatre at the turn of the twentieth century can be seen as a turning point toward the modern era. Since then, the problem of staging, adapting, and reinterpreting the classics has been a central concern in the theatre world, and Leopold Jessner's 1928 Egmont at the Staatstheater in Berlin (Schauspielhaus) is a case in point. Jessner took the position that Egmont must focus either on the private world (Klarchen, the romantic relationship) or the public (politics), and he chose the latter for his production (Schriften, 225), making some radical alterations to Goethe's text (226-7). His production and rationale were attacked by Herbert Ihering in the seminal critique Reinhardt, Jessner, Piscator oder Klassikertod? (1929), who saw here "eine geistige Krise ... die Krise der klassischen Darstellungsform" (305), though he agreed with Jessner that the classics must be rejuvenated through association with modern problems.2 Whether this was possible in Goethe's case was a question Ihering was reluctant to answer, but the agenda for the rest of the century had been laid out. In 1932, the centennial of Goethe's death, Frankfurt's first "RomerbergFestspiele" - open-air performances - offered Goethe's Urgotz and Egmont, directed by Alwin Kronacher, both hailed for breathing new life into classics for audiences of Goethe's home town, even to the extent that fundamental alterations received praise: "Schoner als bei Goethe, der ihm opernhaft die Gottin der Freiheit erscheinen lassen wollte, stirbt Egmont hier: hoch auf dem schwarzen Schafbtt, eingekreist von den Hunderten Lanzen, eine helle Flamme, die aus dunkler Erde himmelwarts schlagt" (Frankfurter General-Anzeiger, 21 July 1932; Mohr, 28); and "Die Freilichtauffiihrung des 'Egmont' war, so dargeboten, noch eine deutlichere Spiegelung politischer Vorgange der Gegenwart. Merkwurdig, wie die Handlung Symbol wurde. Unheimlich ..., als ware diese Vergangenheit nur Folie uberhaupt fur unsere Zeit. Niemand wird sich dem Eindruck entzogen haben: Hier werden unsere Dinge verhandelt" (Frankfurter Zeitung, Abendblatt, 23 July 32; Mohr, 32, along with several pictures). From our perspective more dian six decades later, it is astounding that this relevance, and precisely the final words cited here - "Hier werden unsere Dinge verhandelt" became the keystone of what I will soon argue to be the most important Egmont production between 1970 and 1995, a production that occurred in the same city to boot.

229 Goethe and Egmont Today After Hitler's initial rejection of Goethe, then acceptance of him as an important icon in national cultural history, the thirties saw many performances of Egmont, often distorted to suit National Socialist propaganda. In 1935 Hitler, Goring, and other high-ranking Nazi staff saw Gustav Griindgens' interpretation in the Berlin Schauspielhaus, with Wilhelm Furrwangler conducting the complete Beethoven score, an historically oriented version in costume and sets, but with many textual changes to the political arguments. Later in the thirties Egmont became "eine Auseinandersetzung der nordisch-puritanischen Welt mit der jesuitischen."3 After the war, Wolfgang Langhoff, a former concentration camp inmate, directed an Egmont for the Deutsches Theater in Berlin in 1951, and the production remained a landmark into the seventies (reviewed in Theater der Zeit 1951:6, 20—4). From die ashes of war he branded it an "optimistische Tragodie," an epithet cited long thereafter, and offered a final scene with a redclad Klarchen waving high the freedom flag of die Netherlands. Egmont's death was no longer tragic but an impetus for political activism and self-determination (Theater der Zeit 1985:2; Schumacher, 759-60). E G M O N T O N S T A G E 1970-95

While Egmont trails some of Goethe's plays in terms of frequency of performance, it has been well represented in the past quarter century, produced at least twenty-four times on German-speaking stages since 1970.! have chosen 1970 as a starting point because some temporal boundary was obviously necessary, and more importantly because Peter Zadek's 1967 Mafl jur Mafl along with Peter Steins 1969 Torquato Tasso — both produced in Bremen and stage designed in both cases by Wilfried Minks - together represent a turning point for the modern production in German of classical works, including Goethe. It began a famous, if not infamous, decade of what is often called Regie-Theater in which some would claim that the wishes of directors superseded the validity of texts or the intentions of their authors.4 Zadek was perhaps the more revolutionary of the two, insisting that primary classical texts represented foremost stimuli for his theatrical imagination. Stein approached them differently, pushing their authenticity to parodistic extremes by presenting audiences with what he thought these works were trying to say, but at the same time placing a critical distance between the values they transmitted and his own - with resulting ambivalence. Hensel puts it succinctly: "Zadeks Methode: Die Vergangenheit in die Gegenwart holen; Steins Methode: die Gegenwart in der Vergangenheit suchen" (323-4). Many of the productions described and discussed below fall into this period, many others followed in the eighties. Readers will see obvious connections to Zadek's and Stein's innovative thinking and practice, and some of the directors belonged to the revolutionary group they led. They are balanced by others who were established before the sixties and either adapted their directing philosophy to the new wave or staunchly continued to represent the classical tradition as

230

Images of Goethe through Schiller's Egmont

they had practised it before. Yet none could remain untouched by the production revolution of the seventies. All but one of these directors are male (the exception, Renate Rustler-Ourth for the Salzburg Elisabethbiihne in 1990), which is not surprising since female directors have until recently been an international rarity, a situation that, happily, is slowly changing. At the recent international theatre conference "Why Theatre?" at the University of Toronto (31.10-4.11.95), eleven female directors were present, including Andrea Breth of die Berlin Schaubiihne and Martha Henry of the Grand Theatre, London (Ont.), whereas just one had been at the previous major conference there ten years before. Finally, many of these modern Egmont productions have an advantage unknown - even unthinkable - in Goethe's age: radically different andflexibletheatre spaces and space-age technology. What the crusty Reinhart Meyer claims in the introduction to the second division of his Bibliographia Dramatics is only partly true: "Die heutigen Biihnen stehen bis in ihre Architektur in den Traditionen feudaler Theater, iiber die literarisch ein moderner Habitus gestiilpt wurde" (6). Architecturally, many theatres still stand as they did in the late eighteenth century, but others are innovative modern spaces which introduce entirely new possibilities for Egmont or any other dog-eared play, and even many traditionally constructed spaces use what they have in novel ways. As the following chart shows, Egmont has averaged one production per year on German-speaking stages from 1970 to recent times, with a cluster around the ijoth anniversary of Goethe's death in 1982. The summary and discussion following are based on materials gathered from the theatres in which the productions were mounted or from associated libraries and archives, as indicated in parentheses following the entries. The materials are keyed as follows:5 R: Collected reviews from newspapers and theatre journals. Smaller theatres usually provided five or six, larger ones up to thirty. S: Strichbuch, either director's or prompters text. P: Photographs from the production. M: Program of the production. V: Videotape of the production. oo: No reply, despite at least two inquiries. Stage Productions of "Egmont" 1070—05 1970 1971 1971 1974 1976 1977

Potsdam Zurich Vienna Dessau Cologne Bern Innsbruck

Hans-Otto-Theater (R,S,P,M) Schauspielhaus (R,S,P,M) Burgtheater (R,S,P,M) Landestheater (R,S,P,M) Schauspielhaus (R) Stadttheater (M) Landestheater (R)

131 Goethe and Egmont Today 1979 1980

Weimar Karlsruhe Munich

1981 1982

Vienna Diisseldorf Brandenburg Eisenach Greifswald Bregenz Vienna Leipzig Berlin Frankfurt/Main Salzburg Aachen Bonn Berlin

1985 1986 1990 1991 1992 1993

Nationaltheater (R,S,P,M) Staatstheater (R,S,M) Bayerisches Staatsschauspiel (R,S,P,M) Volkstheater (R,P,M) Schauspielhaus (R,P,M,V) Brandenburger Theater (R,P,M) Landestheater (oo) Greifswalder Theater (oo) Bregenzer Festspiele (R)6 Burgtheater (R,S,M) Schauspielhaus (R,M) Deutsches Theater (R,S,P,M,V) Schauspielhaus(R,M,V,V)7 Elisabethbuhne (P,M) Stadttheater (oo) Schauspielhalle Beuel (R,P,M) Schillertheater (oo)8

The chart shows a felicitous balance among geopolitical regions: eight productions occurred in the former German Democratic Republic (Potsdam, Dessau, Weimar, Brandenburg, Eisenach, Greifswald, Leipzig, Berlin); eight in the Federal Republic of Germany (Cologne, Karlsruhe, Munich, Diisseldorf, Frankfurt/Main, Aachen, Bonn, Berlin); and eight in the other two German-speaking countries: six in Austria (Vienna, Burgtheater, Innsbruck, Vienna, Volkstheater, Bregenz, Vienna, Burgtheater, Salzburg), and two in Switzerland (Zurich, Bern). In each group the chart shows major theatres and smaller regional or city stages. Collected reviews are valuable sources of information on the reception of each production, although it should be stressed at the outset that the circumstances in which reviewers were writing for the media in the GDR were very different from those existing in the other countries considered, and this no doubt affected their assessments. Photos and programs tell much about nontextual aspects of the productions, and the Strichbiicher, that is the director's or prompter's annotated, edited performance texts, provide a complete record of textual changes and many indications of how the actors performed. These were acquired in a good number of cases and are in effect the modern equivalents of the Mannheim manuscript in chapter 2, so that our discussion here has an anchor similar to that of the earlier chapters. The most valuable documents of all are performance videotapes, and while most of the theatres either have no such videotapes for older performances in their archives or, in a few cases, refused access, I was able to view or acquire them for the productions in Berlin (Deutsches Theater), Diisseldorf and Frankfurt/Main. These will provide a transition to our concluding consideration of Egmont on film, but first a detailed overview

232

Images of Goethe through Schiller's Egmont

of modern productions in the GDR and FRG, and a summary of those in Austria and Switzerland. German Democratic Republic Potsdam 1970 The 1970 Hans-Otto-Theater Egmont in Potsdam under the direction of Peter Kupke opens the way to many central questions and points of emphasis in later productions. Although announced on the program's title page as "Johann Wolfgang Goethe. Egmont. Ein Trauerspiel. Biihnenbearbeitung von Friedrich Schiller," it is really a modern adaptation of both authors' work by Kail Mickel. The entire structure of the play is divided neither like Goethe's into five acts, nor like Schiller's into three, but rather into eleven "Bilder," a structural adaptation that is common to most productions I will consider; and instead of music by Beethoven, a new, scant musical score by Paul Dessau was added, partly taped and partly performed by a skeleton corps of musicians with violin and drum. The set and props were minimalistic, the same walls creating a chamber to enclose all scenes; the burgher and street scenes were crammed onto a trestle of benches, the costumes simple, more in tune with the eighteenth than the sixteenth century. Notably, the Parma scenes as well as the contentious final vision, both of which Schiller discarded, were reintroduced. Mickel blended Goethe's two Parma scenes to become Bilder 4 and 8, adding some freshly written portions himself, rearranging events so that Parma's second appearance occurs after Alba has seized Egmont, and having Alba report the events directly to her on her sick-bed. The transition from failing regent to ruthless tyrant is thus underscored. Mickel introduced a reworking of Goethe's conclusion after the vision in the prison scene: Trommeln von fern. Eine Wand wird transparent, Klarchen als Freiheitsgottin, in blutigen Schuhn. [ERSCHEINUNG] Egmont/Klarchen gleicbzeitig: EGMONT: Ja, sie sinds, sie sind vereint Die beiden siissen Freuden meines Herzens Die gottliche Freiheit, von meiner Geliebten Borgte sie die Gestalt Das reizende Madchen Kleidete sich in der Freundin

233

Goethe and Egmont Today

Himmlisches Gewand. In einem ernsten Augenblick Erscheinen sie vereinigt, ernster als lieblich! KLARCHEN: Es 1st mein Blut und vieler Edlen Blut: Schreitet durch! nichts war umsonst Braves Volk! die Siegesgottin ftihrc dich an Und wie das Meer durch cure Damme bricht So brecht, so reisst den Wall der Tyrannei zusammen Und schwemmt ersaufend sie von ihrem Grunde Den sie sich anmafit, weg! Die Erscheinung verschwindet, Trommeln tauter. Von dent Geton der Trommeln erwacht Egmont. EGMONT: Ein Traum hat mich getauscht. Ein paradiesisch schoner Traum! - Ich sail sie — Zu mir herunter stieg ein gotdiches Bild — es kam von oben — doch hatt' es alle Ziige meiner Klara.9

The regeneration of Goethe's vision to include dialogue shared by Egmont and Klarchen was an interesting innovation in a production that otherwise offered stark realism and minimalistic theatre, and it was a means to make palatable Goethe's transition from the realistic to idealistic sphere at the end, for Schiller the impossible "Salto mortale in eine Opernwelt." In fact, as a whole, despite its claim to be based on Schiller rather than Goethe, the Potsdam production is very much in tune with Goethe's Egmont in both text and aesthetics, benefitting at the same time from Schiller's structural streamlining. Part of the documentation for this production is an excellent program produced by the dramaturge, Irmgard Mickisch, which explains some of the changes made and, like virtually all modern Egmont productions, includes excerpts from historical and political documents as well as pictures. Egmont is without doubt an intensely political play and both this and other GDR productions, and then the FRG productions as well, must be considered from the political point of view. Mickisch s program contains treatises by socialist heroes such as Harro Schulze-Boysen (a member of the resistance movement who was executed in a Nazi prison), Ernst Thalmann, and Johannes R. Becher, but they are not inconsistent with much that is said in either Goethe's or Schiller's text about political oppression, tyranny, and the role of the populace in resisting them. Moreover, the performance text does not show undue signs of distortion to particular political ends — and I include the new vision text cited above. It does show an awareness of the links between Egmont and the society and audience

234 Images of Goethe through Schiller's Egmont

who viewed it, a sign of healthy dramaturgy and concern for modern relevance. Throughout the GDR, it was hardly necessary for directors to distort texts to make them politically relevant, for their unusually sensitive audiences needed no heavy-handed allusions to freedom and oppression, but could create the parallels for themselves. It should be remembered as well that die political theme of Egmont was not one of revolution, but rather the restoration of citizens' traditional rights in the face of an authoritarian state which denied them. The Potsdam Egmont was generally warmly received by contemporary reviewers, for example, by Otto Grell, who called it an "interessante und umstrittene Inszenierung" but expressed unease about the vision scene ("zu opernhaft gebracht" - had he been reading Schiller?), and closed with: Nach der Premiere, die einen achtbaren Erfolg brachte, besuchten wir eine Anrechtsvorstellung. Der halbe Zuschauerraum war mit Schuljugend besetzt. Wir hatten gehort, dafi Deutschlehrer mit der Potsdamer Fassung und Konzeption gar nicht einverstanden sind. Wie reagierte die Jugend? Im ersten der elf Bilder wurde ein wenig gelacht iiber die wie auf einer Huhnerleiter postierten Burger beim Armbrustschiefien. Dann blieb es bei gespannter Hingabe an das Buhnengeschehen muckmauschenstill bis zum Schlufi bei von Bild zu Bild steigendem Beifall. Das Schicksal Egmonts, der als zu friiher Held untergehen mufite ... packt unsere Jugend in dieser realistisch-aktuellen Konzeption. (Der Morgen, 4 April 1970'°)

If it reflects the audience's reaction accurately, this is an impressive endorsement. Other reviewers spent more time praising the production for its actual and meaningful treatment of the "klassisches Erbe," but no other testimonial can match the obvious attraction it had for the youth, as opposed to their teachers who were less inclined to accept an innovatively flexible production." Dessau 1972 Director Karl Schneider's Dessau Egmont of 1972 was based on Goethe's text (Leipzig: Reclam) with extensive deletions — every page of the prompter's book shows some text struck out, most pages are deleted by half, and some almost entirely. Still, the performance was three hours long, apparently at a measured pace. Structurally the scenic order is maintained, but as in Potsdam, thirteen "Bilder" replace the formal division into acts and scenes. Schiller's version also comes into play. At the end of Egmonts tryst with Klarchen, Schneider inserts Schiller's much derided scene (included in the prompt book as a typescript "Texterganzung"), in which she warns Egmont of the impending political danger and urges him to escape (compare [2.56]). Schneider commented later that the scene was added to reinforce her image "als Reprasentantin der biirgerlichen Klasse und der Volksbewegung ... Dieser dramaturgische Eingriff zeigt in der Gemeinsamkeit des Denkens und Handelns von Richard und Klarchen das biirgerliche Klas-

235 Goethe and EgmontToday senanliegen (in Ubereinstimmung mit dem individuellen) und das nationale Anliegen Klarchens gegeniiber Egmont, ihre tiefe Verwurzelung im Denken des Volkes, ihre politische Klugheit und erklart gleichzeitig, warum die Auseinandersetzung iiber Egmonts Einschatzung nicht mehr in Gang kommen kann" (Theater der Zeit, 1973:5, 29). Apart from this, the closest thing to an exciting textual addition is the call for a "Kufi" when Egmont visits Klarchen. The director's primary intention had far more to do with politics than with the private sphere. Beethoven's entire musical score was performed by the orchestra of the Landestheater in Dessau under the direction of Heinz Rottger, surely a challenge, given the sweeping textual excisions (the prompt book contains some indications of the musical interface, but not all that must have taken place); and besides this, Klarchen's songs were performed by a singer rather dian by the actress herself, an artifice which undermined any attempt at realism. Sets, props, and costumes evoked the sixteenth century, with some suggestion of the earthy tones characteristic of Netherlandic painting of the period, and while the Parma scenes remained, albeit truncated, Goethe's final vision of Klarchen was omitted. With the stripped-down text juxtaposed with a full musical score, we are left with the impression of a production misfit, but the public's civic pride in their orchestra was perhaps more than enough reason to judge it a success: "Prof. Dr. Heinz Rottger gelang es hervorragend, die vom Orchester vorbildlich gespielte Musik Beethovens mit dem Geschehen auf der Buhne so zu verbinden, dafi durch diese einheitliche Wirkung starke Eindrucke entstanden" (H. Jager in Freiheit, 9 December 1972). (We will see something similar in the Bonn production later on.) But in theatrical terms Gesine Carlitschek in the leading GDR theatre journal Theater der Zeit (iyjy^, 48) panned the production as lifeless, a position which drew strong reaction from director Schneider two issues later in a lengthy article which emphasized his primary agenda to impart a sociopolitical message rather than create a theatrical experience. He bases his position on Wolfgang LanghofFs celebrated Egmont of 1951, making his goal clear in statements such as these: LanghofFs Ansatz ftir seine "Egmont"-Inszenierung 1951, den nationalen Befreiungskampf der Niederlander bestimmend herauszuarbeiten, stand in direktem Bezug zu den Kampfen der demokratischen Krafte in der jungen DDR unter Fiihrung der SED und auch in der BRD am Anfang der 5oer Jahre um die Erhaltung der Einheit Deutschlands angesichts der verscharften Spaltertatigkeit des wiedererstarkenden deutschen und des internationalen Imperialismus. ... Uns interessiert das Verhaltnis zwischen Gesellschaft und Individuum, zwischen Volk un Fiihrerpersonlichkeit. (28-9) Sifting through the hundreds of textual deletions in the prompt book, reading the program, which contains not a single reference to modern politics (unlike many Egmont programs east or west), and scanning reviews that blush with pride at the accomplishment of Dessau's orchestra, one is left with the impression that

236 Images of Goethe through Schiller's Egmont

guest director Schneider was the only one to understand the full political import of the play, and in the end it is just as likely that his politically sensitized, if publicly silent audience understood the play's depiction of freedom and oppression in a way entirely contrary to his pious party line.12 Weimar 1979 Any Goedie production has particular significance when mounted by the Deutsches Nationaltheater in Weimar. Its unique historical role leads us to expect a continuance of the classical tradition, and its Egmont of 1979, directed by Fritz Bennewitz, essentially fulfilled that mandate. The production included Beethoven's music, performed by the Weimar Stadtkappelle and supplemented by the electronic music group SIT. Not only are all of the Goethe characters present, but an unusual wealth of support players: the prompt book indicates that "Volk, Gefolge, Wachen usw." include "40 Manner, 15 Frauen, 5 Kinder," and a stunning force of "100 Spanier," a happy combination of artistic necessity, theatrical extravagance, and low labour costs. Added to this mass of humanity, the prompt book notes beside Egmont s first appearance "ein Pferd," beside Parma's "zwei Doggen," so the animal world was not slighted either (an amusing irony in light of Goethe's demise at the paws of Der Hund von Aubry in 1817).I3 The prompt book shows repeated evidence of the great care with which these masses were directed and arranged on stage, intertwined with the musical score for maximum effect, particularly in the burgher scenes. Here is an example from Egmont's capture: EGMONT. Lebt wohl! Entlafit mich: denn ich wiifite, bei Gott! nicht mehr zu sagen. Heintze [playing Egmont] geht nach hinten. ALBA. Halt, Egmont! Heintze wendet sich zu Alba um. Ton. Auftritt Statisterie: i.Gruppe links (Null-Gasse). 2. Gruppe rechts (Null-Gasse). 3. Gruppe hinten (Mitte). ALBA. Der Konig befiehlt's, du bist mein Gefangener. LichtwecbseVTon. Statisten mit Heintze hinten Mitte ab!(end of Bild 10; compare [2.21])

Such scenes were a ceremony of dramaturgy reminiscent of Goethe's own careful direction and evocation of balance, harmony, and effect when he controlled the Weimar stage. They were undoubtedly the visual highlight of a production which otherwise had spartan sets and props, with only a window frame in the Klarchen scenes to suggest a symbolic dimension there, and dull period costumes.

Z37

Goethe and Egmont Today

Also noticeable in this scene is the fact that the dialogue has been pared to the bone, a further characteristic of this Weimar production. Despite the advertisement of Goethe's tragedy in five acts, the prompt book shows a structural division into fourteen Bilder and savage textual deletions at least matching those of the Dessau production. The performance was nevertheless three hours long, so the time saved through textual deletion was devoted to the visual aspects; yet all but one of Goethe's original scenes are there, however truncated. The final vision of Klarchen is cut, but the key scene in which Egmont appears "spanisch" to Klarchen has numerous notations suggesting careful pantomimic interplay, including a surprising attempt by Egmont to unbutton Klarchens blouse. We will keep an eye on similar licentiousness in future productions. Beyond the assumption that GDR audience members once again quietly relished the play's allusions to overcoming state oppression, not much can be said about the sociopolitical relevance of this production. The program contains a wealth of documents and pictures about the historical background and genesis of the play (not the least of which is Angelika Kauffmann's sketch of the vision scene, to my knowledge the only program to print it in the last quarter century - see chapter 5); yet in contrast to the Potsdam production, only two articles directly addressing modern times; a brief excerpt from Armin Stolper's essay "Zum Anlesen des 'Egmont' heute" ("das Stuck ist durchtrankt von Politik") and an unsigned summary, "Vorfeld der Revolution und Perspektive," in which catchwords of socialism are dutifully printed, such as, "Ausdruck unterschiedlicher Klasseninteressen ... Im Volk bildet sich politisches Bewufitsein allmahlich heraus" and "die plebejische Revoke." Reviews were mixed. In the subsequent Goethe-Jahrbuch Georg Menchen reports a discussion of the production by a working group at the 66th general meeting of the Goethe Gesellschaft, also attended by director Fritz Bennewitz, whose vocabulary recalls Wolfgang LanghofFs 1951 interpretation, when he told listeners: " 'Egmont' handelt von Geschichte, also ist es ein Gegenwartsstiick, ein Stuck iiber Gesellschaftsentwurfe, uber die Befreiungskampfe der Menschheit; es ist ein optimistisches Stuck, und darum sind die Zweifel, die Verzweiflung, die Niederlagen vor und in den Siegen wichtig" (125). Those present expressed unhappiness about an " 'allzu dusteren, statuarischen' AufRihrung" (124), which captured the tenor of more than one review as well. Like Bennewitz, most seemed to acknowledge Weimar's role and responsibility to stage the classics, "seinem spezifischen Auftrag nachzukommen, die Stiicke aus der deutschen Klassik dem Publikum zu erschliefien" (Thuringer Tageblatt, 3 April 1979.), but the production followed this mandate as unprovocatively as Bennewitz's statement. As far as generating theatrical excitement or interest is concerned, he seems to have drawn a blank in the minds of most audience members and reviewers. Such is the conclusion one must also draw from the discussion published by Menchen, the Thuringer Tageblatt review of 3 April 1979 (Herbert Weifihuhn), and that of Gerhard Piens in Theater der Zeit (ij Dittersdorf, and Mozart's Don Juan (Bottiger and Burkhardt 21). Some confusion has also resulted from Bottiger's incorrect numbering of his chapter 7 as 8. 3 See also the contemporary Eduard Genast's (1797—1866) account of Goethe's excitement at the prospect of Iffland's visit, the lengthy rehearsal, and the performance (i, 97, also accessible in Graf, n, I, 226-8). Graf further provides a list of other cast members for this performance and for later ones in Weimar from 1806 to 1819 (229, 234). 4 Eduard Genast, who played the role of Zimmermeister, wrote of the rehearsal: "Goethe las den Egmont, und abgesehen davon, dass sein Vortrag etwas zu markirt war, habe ich nie den Egmont so darstellen sehen, wie er ihn las; Iffland stand weit hinter der Auffassung Goethes zuriick. Noch am nachsten verkorperte in spaterer Zeit Oels Goethe's Intention" (i, 96-7, also in Graf, n, i, 227). 5 Not only was Kilian sceptical about Iffland's accomplishment as described by Bottiger, but he also suggests that in his own day the pantomime should not even be attempted, since the audience would have no idea what was happening (206). One has to wonder if he was underestimating both the actors and public of his rime. 6 I found no mention of this picture in any of the critical literature on Egmont and came across it reproduced in the program of the 1979 Weimar production (discussed in chapter 9), whose source is Angelika Kauffmann und Ihre Zeitgenossen (234). 7 I have found no contemporary critical commentary on the effect of Beschort s performance as Egmont, but reviews were generally mixed, which is hardly unusual. We recall Friederike Unzelmann's letter of April 1801 to Goethe which criticized his performance (Briefe an Goethe 337, #1221), but since she herself acted Klarchen, the assessment is hardly objective. A contrary view was held by a critic who wrote in Eunomia: "Bei der Darstellung selbst zeichnete sich Herr Iffland als Oranien, und Madame Unzelmann als Klarchen vorziiglich aus. Herr Herdt als Alba und Herr Beschort als Egmont gefielen gleichfalls sehr" (i, 265, March 1801: "Theater").

293

Notes to pages 181-92

8 Abend-Zfitungiq) (22 June 1821): "Correspondenz-Nachrichten, Aus Frankfurt a. M.," re. performance of 23 April 1821. 9 The originals are now located in a number of galleries and archives. I was able to inspect those held by the Goethe-Museum, Weimar through the kindness of Dr. Ulrike Miiller-Harang. The Hark collection entitled Ifflands Schauspielkumt is a loose-leaf folio folder of 4 + 42 pages, with an introduction and 238 drawings of actors in roles and scenes. 10 For example, Christina Kroll's Gesang und Rede, a catalogue of the 1973/74 Goethe theatre exhibit, contains a number (p. 32, 52, 67,128,136). Winfried Klara's Schauspielkostum (Appendix) also offers an interesting group. 11 It even graces the cover of the Reclam edition. Goethe referred to Kauffmann's drawing in the Italienische Reise, Rome, 3 November 1787 (WAi, 32,137). As was common at the time, the figure reproduced here is only one of the contemporary variants, the very nature of the art form encouraging reproduction. Kauffmann's original pencil and chalk drawing of the scene remained in Goethe's possession. ii The scene of Klarchen at Egmont's knee was, according to a letter of Caroline to Johann Gottfried Herder, the "Mittelpunkt" of the play. She is citing a conversation she had with Karl Phillip who said the "Mittelpunkt" is to be found not at the end but obviously in the middle: "so wie alle Radien vom Mittelpunkt ausgehen, und sich in den Anfang und Ende verlieren. So ist in Egmont der Mittelpunkt die Szene, da Clarchen vor Egmont kniet ... Hier sei der hochste Punkt des Stiicks" (MA III, i, 849-50). 13 This is a doubly meaningful example, since the play itself is about the process of social integration which overcomes fixed images and roles. CHAPTER 7 1 I have paraphrased this brief summary from Marvin Carlson, "Invisible Presences" (no) and in the subsequent discussion rely on the work of Michael Quinn, "Celebrity and the Semiotics of Acting." 2 In the previous chapter I noted the apparent theft of his last playbill from die collection of the Anna Amalia Library in Weimar. From this it would seem that voyeuristic interest in the celebrities of that stage is obviously still alive. This can also be seen in the recent full-page article, "Mit Goethe auf der Biihne," by Doris Maurer, which describes Goethe's leading ladies in their acting as well as their amorous pursuits (Die Zeit$4 [17 Aug. 1993], 20 "Zeila'ufte"). A more scholarly, but no less entertaining, account of Jagemann and Goethe can be found in Carlson (Goethe95—6 and passim). 3 The undercurrents of Goethe's relationship with Frau von Stein have been captured superbly for modern readers by Peter Hacks's Gesprdch im Hause Stein. 4 In formulating my account, I have found the work of these scholars useful (listed chronologically): Martersteig (Wolff), Stein, Tornius (Dramaturg), Eberwein, SatoriNeumann; Schifferdecker, Scharrer-Santen, Bohme, Ziegler, Morschel-Wetzke, Sichardt, Hinck and Hahn (Goetheentry by Gorne on Goethe as director). Beyond

294

Notes to page 193

these I have found useful the following general treatments of the development of the Weimar theatre under Goethe: Schmidt, Genast, Pasqu£, Hofther, Devrient (274326), Das Goethe-Jahr in Weimar, Kindermann (Theatergeschichte 552-730), Flemming, Knudsen, Carlson (Goethe) and Borchmeyer (Weimarer Klassify. For more bibliography readers can turn to Carlson and Borchmeyer. 5 The reference is found in his Tag- und Jahreshefte of 1803 where Goethe refers to the genesis of the "Regeln" (WA I, 35,148). The "Regeln" appear in the WA I, 40,13968. Ekhof used the term "Grammatik der Schauspielkunst" in his account of the regular dramaturgical discussions held by Johann Friedrich Schonemann's troupe in the mid-eighteenth century (Kindermann, Conrad Ekhof, 21). Lessing's plan to write a definitive "Schauspielkunst" remained a fragment, but his desire for this to happen was fulfilled by Engel's Ideen zu einerMimikm. 1785. Important for Lessing's concept of acting was Francesco Riccoboni's L'art du theatre, which Lessing translated as Die Schauspielkunst in 1750. Lessing's twenty-page fragment is printed in the Gopfert/ Hanser edition of his Werke, IV (i973),723~33. 6 Engel's Ideen zu einer Mimik was the prime actors' guide of its age, and it remained authoritative for decades. It was reprinted many times and translated into several languages. It includes graphic illustrations which underscore the visual dimension of his concept of acting, so that leafing through the two volumes gives a ready overview of the wealth of illustrated poses for actors to use as models. Barnett is a splendid modern source for pictures of this type, with many precise drawings of body positions and mimic expressions that were standard in eighteenth-century acting. Barnett also pays attention to the placement and grouping of actors on stage. In his Berlin dissertation (1969), "Einsiedels Theorie der Schauspielkunst. Zur kunsttheoretischen Grundlegung der Schauspielkunst im 18. Jahrhundert," HansWerner Conrad claims that Einsiedel was the first German to present a unified acting system, a claim which I find exaggerated in light of contributions by Engel and others. Dene Barnett, who has in recent years done more than any other scholar I know to investigate European acting technique in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, lists more than twenty acting guides known in Germany and published between Franciscus (Franz) Lang s Dissertatio de actione scenica (Abhandlung uber die Scbauspielkunsi) of 1727 and Thiirnagels Theorie der Schauspielkunst of 1836; a dozen more could easily be added. Barnett's extensive bibliography can be found in his series of articles on "The Performance and Practice of Acting" in Theatre Research International(1977 and 1981) and his major study The Art of Gesture (1987). I have come across the following additional guides not listed by Barnett (here in chronological order; those marked * I have not located): Loewen, Kurzgefasste Grundsatze (1775); Mercier, Neuer Versuch (1776); Wagner, Neuer Versuch (1776); Theoretische Gruff en (1776-79)*; Von der Schauspielkunst (Wien, 1780); Gley, Menschendarstellung* (J794); Quandt, Versuch (1803); and Iffland, Theorie (1811-15). Iffland himself was not just an outstanding actor, but also a major contributor to the theory of acting. He began writing on the subject as early as 1781 in the Rheinische Beitrage and continued with articles in his Almanack fur Theaterfreunde from 1807. The first issue began

295

7

8

9

10

Notes to pages 194-5

with a series of twelve plates depicting well known actors (including himself in his best known parts), linking the scenes with dialogue from those scenes (see the discussion in chapter 6), and accompanying each scene with a detailed commentary. Iffland's most important theoretical writings were collected and republished posthumously as a Theorie der Schauspielkunst (1815) by his close associate Christian, also Johann] Gottfr[ied] Flit[t]ner (1770-1828). Simon Williams provides a useful overview of developments in acting technique in German Actorsand my own chapter on "Acting: Talent and Rules" in The German Nachspiel (214-34) attempts a concise survey of the subject. Finally, Wolfgang Bender's recent Die Schauspielkunst (1992) is a valuable collection of essays on this theme by excellent scholars. His own lead article provides a solid introductory overview of theory from Ekhof to Goethe, and the contributions by Wilfried Passow, Rudolf Miinz, and Dieter Borchmeyer are integrated into my argument. In searching for clues about Goethe's study of acting history and technique, I took into account the works in his personal library, now housed in the Goethe-Museum in Weimar, searching for notations or underlinings. I discovered no such markings. It seems that Goethe did not make notes in his own books, despite his fetish for recording in written form almost everything else about his life and work. Marvin Carlson provides a useful English translation of the "Regeln" as an appendix to his Goethe, and Dieter Borchmeyer gives a succinct critical analysis of their significance in Goethe's movement from a naturalistic to an idealistic style (Bender 273-7). The term "natural acting" is often used, but imprecisely or without consistent meaning both then and now. I understand it to mean an actor who, while perhaps aware of and skilled in controlled technique, still conveys an overall realism in his performance, what Iffland called in his theoretical writings the "Seelenzustand" of a stage character (Flitner 77). Obviously there might be some debate about how "naturalistic" an actor should become. It is amusing to read Jiirgen Kilian's attack on what he sees as naturalistic excess, associadng it repeatedly with the "Springmethode" (uncontrolled outbursts) and with extravagant "Unart" and "Orgien" (70-1,128). The influence of expressionistic acting in the early twentieth century seems to have unleashed a panic among traditionalists, such as Kilian, whose taste was solidly for what they considered classical style, which was closely allied with the declamatory tradition. Devrient provides one of the oldest, yet still finest, summaries. Jutta Lindner's recent Asthetische Erziebung (1990) takes account of earlier attempts and includes extensive references and useful appended reprints of some of the key documents of Goethe's theatre direction. Already in 1727 Lang had used the concept "Staffage" (in the German translation) in his Dissertatio (329-30) to refer to baroque theatre. Acting was essentially a pictorial event. Like many later guides, Lang's work had a number of pictures (unfortunately excluded from the German version), which demonstrate that the visual image on stage was central to his discussion of acting. The last third of his book is a catalogue of "Symbolische Bilder" (252-309), also strongly suggestive of Goethe's vocabulary for the stage.

296

Notes to pages 196-210

n See Dene Barnetts exhaustive work on the subject in The Art of Gesture, especially his basic distinctions between gesture types (27—38). ii Some modern critics have translated Goethe's repeatedly used "malerisch" as "descriptive." I believe that this translation is insufficient and limits our understanding of the dimensions of the term. 13 For the discussion of visual representations of Goethe's theatre, both here and in the next chapter, several secondary works have proven useful. In recent years some important Goethe-theatre exhibitions have been mounted, often with an illustrated catalogue. Of lasting value to scholars is Christina Kroll's Gesang undRede (1973), an illustrated and commented catalogue of the Diisseldorf Goethe Museum's exhibition of Goethe's theatre career; Jorn Gores' . ..aufklassischem Boden begeistert (1986) documents an exhibition, again by the Goethe-Museum in Diisseldorf, on Goethe in Italy, with relevance to his theatrical development and the visual arts; Helmut Holtzhauer's Goethe-Museum (1969) and Karl-Heinz Hahn's Goethe in Weimar (1986) are beautifully illustrated pictorial documentations with explanatory text of Goethe's milieu; and Christoph Michel's Goethe. Sein Leben in Bildern und Texten (1982) offers a handy pictorial overview. There are many other collections, of course, and most major studies of Goethe's theatre contain some pictures. 14 For an argument in favour of Goethe's dependence on Vienna, see Erika Irene Lindner's "Einfliisse des Wiener Theaters auf das Weimarer Hoftheater unter Goethes Leitung." She claims that a huge proportion of Weimar's repertoire was Viennese (140 of the 600 plays performed) and that Viennese music prevailed (24); that much of the acting style was copied, especially "extemporized" play; that Vienna's overall concept of the "Zusammenspiel" was imported (77-8); and that the administrative structure was copied (99-100). Lindner's argument is often overstated and poorly documented, but it has some merit. CHAPTER 8 1 Femmel's massive, definitive catalogue of Goethe's drawings will serve as a frequent point of reference in this chapter. 2 Manfred Kahler's delightful little Goethes Gartenhaus in Weimar (1991) gives an historical and pictorial overview, recently supplemented by Dorothee Ahrendt's Goethes Garten in Weimar (i^^). 3 Jorn Gores's Goethe in Italien is a valuable and interestingly presented account of the journey. 4 See the "Paralipomena" to the Italienische Reise(WA\, 32, 467); Italienische Reiseentries of i Sept. 1787, Nov. 1787 and 9 Nov. 1787 (i, 32, 73/142/275); letters of 14 Aug. 1787 (iv, 8, 244), 16 Feb. 1788 (iv, 8, 351-2). 5 Goethe's private comments on Egrnont have of course been collected, sorted, edited, and discussed by various scholars, each of them injecting some personal judgement and selection in the process. Some good and readily accessible summaries are in Grafs Goethe tiberseine Dichtungen, n, I, which despite its title also contains corre-

797 Notes to pages 210-11

6

7 8

9

spondence and writings from and by others to supplement Goethe's own; Hans Wagener's Erlduterungen und Dokumente (2. Dokumente zur Entstehungsgeschichte. Aufierungen Goetheszu 'Egmont'); and Miller/Reinhardt's edition of Egmont in the MA in, i, 818-84. For my discussion I have consulted these and the four sets of indices to the WA, i.e., one for each Abteilung. These contain some 122 references to Egmont from his Italienische Reise, Briefe, Tagebucher, "Ober das deutsche Theater," Dichtung und Wahrheit, and other miscellaneous writings; and there are eight more in his Gesprache mit Eckermann, which are not included in the WA and for which I have used the MA xix. Herzog Carl August (u Aug. 1787, WA iv, 5, 241), Georg Joachim Goschen (17501828; 15 Aug. 1787, WA iv, 5, 246), Philipp Friedrich Seidel (1755-1820; 18 Aug. 1787, WA iv, 5, 254). The precise date he finished the play is nevertheless in doubt, though hardly a crucial point. Goethe contradicted himself in this regard, writing in addition to the above: "Heute kann ich sagen ist Egmont fertig geworden" (i Sept. 1787, WA i, 32, 73); and "Denn heute ist Egmont eigentlich recht vollig fertig geworden (5 Sept. 1787, Wfl i, 32, 75). Letter of 23 December 1774 to Heinrich Christian Boie (1744-1806; WA iv, 2, 220 and MA in, i, 818). This is noticeable in Grafs extensive record where the period 1789 to 1796 covers a scant half page with only one brief mention of Egmont in 1789, the next by Goethe in 1796 (u, i, 225-6). See journal entries of July 1806 re his revision of Act I (WAm, 3,134), Nov. 1810 re his concept of the entire play (in, 4,164), Jan. and Feb. 1812 re Beethoven's score (in, 4, 255/58), April 1813 re the theme of the daemonic (in, 5, 30); and more than a dozen notes such as "Auf dem Theater wegen Egmont," "Abends Probe von Egmont," " Vorstellung von Egmont," "Abends Egmont," "Abends Vorstellung von Egmont," "Egmont" (May 1806 to Dec. 1815, in, 3,129/290; in, 4, 5/73/163; in, 5, 86/94/I45/

197). 10 For more analysis of the following biographically oriented material from the point of view of psychoanalysis, see Eissler (i, 578-9 re Charlotte von Stein; II, 925-6 re Goethe's father and Herzog August; and II, 1039-47 f°r a summary). Eissler s book remains the touchstone for psychoanalytical Goethe analysis, even if unpalatable to some because of its interpretive extremes and fundamental disinterest in literature per se. His most recent disciple, Rainer Kaus (1994), has an equally extreme approach, and although Kaus makes superficial reference to Goethes literary works from time to time, he is obviously little interested in them as such, content to peel away the layers of this famous psyche. Were his analysis and conclusions applied to any face in the crowd - and they could indeed be applied to all of us to some extent — they would be read only by clinicians (and by few of them). Such studies occasionally provide with new insights, but in general add little to our understanding of Goethe's writings, and in many aspects they strike me as distortions of considerable magnitude. Still, the fact that scholars write books of this type testifies to the continuing fascination for Goethes celebrity.

298

Notes to pages 214-28

11 Graf speculates that Goethe had here deleted some text to which the Duke had previously objected, but manuscripts of Egmont&o not prove it conclusively. The play was in press at the time, so a change could have been made in the printer's proofs, but these are no longer extant (n, I, 221-2, fn. 4). 12 For a more sophisticated investigation of the historical dimension of Egmont's relationship to his ruler, and eighteenth-century notions of the state in general, see the article by Hans Reiss. 13 The pictures are catalogued, but not reproduced. The date of publication suggests that Tornius could have consulted this extensive early reference, but he makes no mention of it in die article just cited. Hans Ruppert's Goethes Bibliothek (1958) allows us to check further which critical works on art and theatre Goethe possessed. This work has its logical extension in Elise Keudell s Goethe ah Benutzer der Weimarer Bibliothek (1931), a rich source which enables us to track which works Goethe acquired and when. 14 For example "Hexenkiiche aus Macbeth" (i, #32). For an overview of die somewhat confusing organization and contents of Femmeis collection, see the HA xiv, 573. Drawings relating to theatre are listed in Femmel's subject indices to volumes i-m, IVA, IVB, VIA, andviB. 15 Femmel identifies Gesprdch am Fensterzs. a Theaterprospekt? um 1780 (i, #227) and Gejungnisszeneas a Theater-Illustration?'(i, #308). The drawing Kerkerraum is particularly interesting since it shows a cage-like structure very similar to the one used in die Bayerisches Staatsschauspiel production of Egmontin 1980, though this may simply have been a happy accident of set design. 16 The four ladies were Luise von Gochhausen, Herzogin Louise, Herzogin-Mutter Anna Amalia, and a Hofdame. See FA IAbt., vol. i, Abb. 24. We are reminded of Frau von Steins Rino (Chapter 7). 17 Goethe wrote four poems in Tischbeins honour (WAl, 2,159-62). Both Tischbein pictures mentioned here are reproduced in many secondary sources, among them Jorn Gores' Goethe in Italien, 228 (original in Frankfurt, Stadelsches Kunstinstut) and 224 (original in Frankfurt, Freies Deutsches Hochstift). 18 This is not my discovery, others have pointed it out, for example Christoph Michel (221). 19 He shared the duties with Friedrich Justin Bertuch from the journal's inception in 1786 through the twentieth annual volume, at which time Bertuch continued alone. 20 Holtzhauer lists the painting as "Karikatur auf hofisches Theater" (454), Marvin Carlson as "Contemporary caricature of the Weimar repertoire" (167), but neither cites the caption or offers commentary. CHAPTER 9 1 Borcherdt also provides a useful and concise overview of the reception of Schiller's version (Schillers Werke, Nationalausgabe, xm, 358-60). 2 Harry Kahn also described it as a failure, claiming that it captured neither the historical nor literary sense of the work (Weltbiihne'i^i'L, 1928).

299

Notes to pages 229-34

3 Drewniak, Das Theater im NS-Staat, 170. Drewniak also provides performance frequency figures for Goethe's dramas during the NS period, Egmont being the fourth most popular between 1940 and 1943 (171). 4 While there is a mass of secondary literature on this turning point and its consequences, I have found Georg Hensel s Das Theater der siebzigerjahre (1980) most helpful. It includes contemporary reviews of many key productions from the subsequent decade as well as some critical summaries. The pithy "Eine Alternative: Klassiker ausschlachten oder verstehen" (322-25) puts the problem in a nutshell. 5 The chart of productions was assembled from information gathered from individual issues of Theater derZeit, Theater heute, Die Biihne, and from annual issues of Was spielten die Theater (1981-90) and Wer spielte was (1990-93). Despite what their titles suggest, the latter two contain only about half of the productions on the chart. These sources were supplemented by inquiries to the databases of the Abteilung fur Theaterwissenschaft der Universitat Erlangen/Nurnberg, the Institut fur Theater- Film- und Fernsehwissenschaft der Universitat in Cologne (Schlofi Wahn), the Deutsches Theatermuseum in Munich, the Osterreichisches Theatermuseum in Vienna and the Schweizerische Landesbibliothek in Bern. Despite this I cannot claim the chart to be complete. I then approached all of the theatres via either the archivist/librarian or the representative for public relations, as listed in the 1994 Biihnenjahrbuch, with the request for access to any materials they might have on their recent production of Egmont. Many were immediately forthcoming and immensely helpful, others needed coaxing but soon proved the same, and only a very few refused to cooperate. My thanks are expressed to the librarians and archivists in the "Acknowledgments" (p. ix). 6 Performed in July and the same production as that which followed in the Burgtheater in October of the same year. While I received no response from the Festspiele, plenty of material was acquired on the Burgtheater production, some of which also makes reference to Bregenz. 7 Reviews and program from the theatre collection of the Stadt- und Universitatsbibliothek in Frankfurt/Main. There are two videotapes in this case, one consisting of an interview with director Dietrich Hilsdorf, spliced with footage of the production itself and produced as a ZDF television program; and a videotape of the entire performance which I obtained from the Schauspielhaus itself. 8 With the Schillertheater dosed as of 3 October 1993 the archives remain at the time of writing inaccessible and await relocation in the Landesarchiv, Berlin. In this production Egmontviss experimentally - and only fragmentarily - blended with Schiller's Don Carlos (see Theater heute, 1993:7,17-18). I know of no Egmontafter this date. 9 I quote from p. 74-5 of the typescript used by the director and dramaturgical staff as their performance text. The new material is referred to there as the "Montage" and the "Finale." 10 Newspapers cited in this chapter are not included in my list of secondary works at the end of the book. 11 I also consulted reviews (all from 1970) in: Funkhaus Potsdam, 18 March (Radio review, Hanno Meyer); Neue Zeit, 20 March; Volksblatt, 26 March; and a further,

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12 13

14 15

16

17

18

19 20 21

Notes to pages 136-46

extensive newspaper review by H.W. Meyer, acquired from the Potsdam theatre archive, but lacking precise date or source. I also consulted reviews (all from 1972) in Flamme, 23 Nov. (Diana Anders); MitteldeutscheNeueNachrichten, 30 Nov. (E. Sch.); and Freiheit, 9 Dec. (H. Jager). I was curious to ascertain whether in fact Egmont did ride a horse in Weimar, and was assured by Mr Lindner, a veteran set designer still active there, that this was the case, and it was a white horse to boot. Other remarkable steeds appeared on stage in the Karlsruhe, Munich, and Frankfurt productions. I also consulted a review in Der Morgen, 21 March. See for example reviews (all 1984) in: Leipziger Volkszeitung, 10 Nov. (Hanne Ropke) and 15 Nov. (Giinter Hofmann); Die Union/Leipzig, 14 Nov., reprint NeueZeit, 22 Nov. (GeorgAntosch); Neueste Nachrichten, 14 Nov.; Sachsisches Tageblatt, 14 Nov. (Constanze Schneider); and Sender Leipzig (oral review), n Dec. (Minzel). The only exception I know of is Matthias Frede's niggardly commentary in Theater der Zeit, 1985:2,16-17. So reported Hans-Martin Rahner, one of the production's dramaturges, who despite his obvious conflict of interest, would surely not fabricate the reaction entirely (Berliner Zeitung, 13, 14 Sept. 1986). His report is supported by others in Die Neue Zeit, 6 Sept. 1986 and the National-Zeitung, 17 Sept. 1986 (Wilfriede Eichler). Beyond those mentioned already, I also consulted the following GDR and FRG reviews (all 1986): Berliner Zeitung (Dieter Kiebs),Junge Welt(tienryk Goldberg), Der Morgen (Christoph Funke), National-Zeitung (Rolf-Dieter Eichler) all 25 March; Neue Zeit (Helmut Ullrich), Neues Deutschland (Gerhard Ebert), Tribune (Wolfgang Gersch) all 26 March; Weltbtihne, i April (Giinther Cwojdrak), Der Tagesspiegel, 3 April (Michael Stone), Wochenpost, u April (Anne Braun), EulenspiegeL, n.d. issue 17,1986 (Carl Andriefien), and a selection of comments from members of the audience published in Theater der Zeit, 1986:8,15—19. The documentation to which I have access in this instance is limited. My direcr inquiry to the Schauspielhaus in Cologne produced a pleasant response expressing regret that "wir im Theater selber nur die letzten 5 Jahre archiviert haben." The Theatermuseum in Cologne (Schlofi Wahn) does have reviews of the production, but I have not gained access to an annotated text book or a videotape of the performance. SiiddeutscheZeitung, Silvester 1974/Neujahr 1975 (i.e. 31 Dec. 1974/1 Jan. 1975), 36. Interview with Zischler and Krumme in the Zeitung of the Badisches Staatstheater Karlsruhe (Jan. 1980), 7. The key secondary document for the Karlsruhe discussion is the director's book, reprinted as the program. I have also consulted the following published discussions and reviews (all 1980), which (with two exceptions, Horst Ziermann and Riidiger Krohn), show a uniform appreciation of the production: Badische Neueste Nachrichten Karlsruhe, 23 Jan. and 28 (Gertrud Waldecker); Die Welt, 30 Jan. (Horst Ziermann); Boblinger Bate, 31 Jan., reprint Heilbronner Stimme, i Feb., Esslinger Zeitung, 6 Feb. and Theater-Rundschau, 1980:3 (Dieter Schnabel); Stuttgarter Zeitung, i Feb.,

3Oi

22

23 24

25

26

27

28

Notes to pages 146-51

reprinted in Die Reinpfalz, Nr. 24 (date unknown) (Riidiger Krohn); Offenburger Tageblatt, 2 Feb. (Franz Josef Wehinger); Abendpost Frankfurt, n Feb., reprint Oberbadisches Volksblatt, 6 Feb. (Walter Rohrig); Wildbader Tagblatt, 12 Feb.; and Theater heute, 1980:3, 29-31 (Christoph Mtiller, Peter Krumme). Despite Macher's endorsement there seems to have been little disagreement among critics and audiences that the director "adapted" Goethe's text to the extreme. I have also consulted these reviews (all 1980): Suddeutsche Zeitung, 30 Oct. (C. Bernd Sucher); Miinchener Merkur, 31 Oct. (Armin Eichholz); Neue Presse/Coburg, 31 Oct. (Hannes S. Macher); City, 1980:3, reprinted with revisions in Tageszeitung Miinchen, n. d. (Rolf May); AbendzeitungMunchen (n. d., Ingrid Seidenfaden). Archivist Rudolf Gretscher informed me that a videotape of the performance likely exists, but it is not in the archive and I could not gain access to it. As if twinged by conscience, someone has written beside this technical direction: "Vielleicht kann man den Beethoven irgendwie in das Klangbild integrieren" (100). On a different aspect, as mentioned in the last chapter, the cage and set for this scene bear a curious similarity to the "Kerkerraum" sketched by Goethe about 1768-70 (Femmel, I, #174), but I have no evidence that the Munich producers had this in mind. I have consulted the following (all 1982): Rheinische Post, n May (Herbert Slevogt), Frankfurter Allgemeine Zeitung (Jochen Schmidt), Kolnische Rundschau (Horst Ziermann), Miinchner Merkur (Giinter Engelhard), Neue Rhein Zeitung (Birgit Kolgen), Niirnberger Nachrichten (Hans Bertram Bock), Rheinische Post (Lore Schaumann), Westdeutsche Zeitung (Dieter Westecker), Stuttgarter Nachrichten (Ulrich Schreiber), Die Welt (Kathrin Bergmann), all 17 May; Abendzeitung Munchen (Gert Gliewe), Darmstadter Echo (Siegfried Kienzle), Frankfurter Rundschau (Peter Iden), Stuttgarter Zeitung (Wolfgang Ignee), all 18 May; Rheinischer Merkur (Giinter Engelhard), Siiddeutsche Zeitung (Jens Wendland), Die Zeit, all 21 May; Deutsches Allgemeines SonntagsbLttt Hamburg, 23 May (Wolfgang Ruf); Mannheimer Morgen, 27 May ("hey"); DieRheinpfalz, 27 May (Lothar Beck); Kolner Stadt-Anzeiger, 29 May (Rainer Hartmann); Die Weltwoche, 2 June; UberblickDiisseldorf, June (Otto Heuer); Theater heute, 1982:7, jjf. Many more such comments could be cited, and of all the reviews listed in the previous note, only two are positive (Siegfried Keinzle, Darmstadter Echo; and "hey," Mannheimer Morgen on a guest performance of the production in the PfalzbauTheater, Ludwigshafen. Egmont as a latent transvestite? Hilsdorf teases us with the idea. At least one critic of repute, Kurt Eissler, might have supported him — see his interpretation of the scene as evidence of Egmont's, and Goethe's, exhibitionism (i, 605). The inclusion of Schiller had more significance for Frankfurt audiences at the time than his historical association with Egmont alone. Frankfurt intendant Gunther Riihle mounted Schiller's Don Carlos in tandem in an attempt to draw historical, literary, and thematic connections between the two works, both of which were conceived in 1787/88. Critics generally agreed that Don Carlos was a failure, with Egmont taking full honours.

302

Notes to pages 251-5

29 Hilsdorf perhaps studied the Frankfurt history of Egmontproductions, though I have no evidence to confirm or deny this. If not, it was a stroke of good fortune. 30 I have consulted these reviews and discussions (all 1986): Frankfurter Neue Presse, 24 Oct. (Gesprach mit Hilsdorf) and 25 Oct. (CIS), Frankfurter Abendpost (Stefanie Zweig), BiId (Rudolf Rahn), Frankfurter Allgemeine Zeitung (Gerhard Rohde), Frankfurter Neue Presse (Claudio Isani), Frankfurter Rundschau (Peter Iden), all 27 Oct.; Allgemeine Zeitung Mainz (Jens Frederiksen), Giefiener Anzeiger (Hans-Jiirgen Linke), Die Neue Arztliche (Gerhard Rohde), Die Welt (Rudolf Kramer-Badoni), Wetzlarer Neue Zeitung (Peter Merck), Wiesbadener Kurier, all 28 Oct.; DieRheinpfalz, 29 Oct. (Dietrich Wappler); Siiddeutsche Zeitung, 29 Oct. (C. Bernd Sucher); Rhein-NeckarZeitung, 5 Nov. (Fritz Bajorat); Auftritt, 1986:12 (Carsten Jager); Top Magazin (G.M.), 1986:12; Theater heute, 1987:1 (Peter von Becker); and the Andere Zeitung Frankfurt, 1987:2 (Silke Renner). 31 The exception: C. Bernd Sucher's bitterly negative review in the SuddeutscheZeitung, 29 Oct. 1986, suggests that the modern world to him remains incomprehensible. Silke Renner's superficial trearment in the Andere Zeitung Frankfurt, 1987:2, could be counted as a second of the sort, but it is too slight and trivial to bear weight in either camp. 32 Rainer Wagner, Hannoversche Allgemeine Zeitung, 18 Sept. 1992.1 have also consulted the following reviews and discussions of this production, some of which concentrate more on Beethoven than on Goethe (all 1982): General-Anzeiger, 9 Sept. (Ulfert Woydt); General-Anzeiger, 10 Sept. (interview with Kreidl, Bernhard Hartmann); ORF Radio review, 16 Sept. (Doris Kunzmann); Banner Rundschau, 18 and 19 Sept., reprinted in Theater-Rundschau October (H.D. Terschiiren); Express (Elisabeth E. Tschapke), General-Anzeiger (Hans G. Schiirmann), KolnerStadt-Anzeiger^KH), Rheinische NeueZeitung(Horst Ziermann), Rhein-Zeitung (Matthias Norquet), Die Welt (Reinhard Tschapke), Westdeutsche Zeitung (Andreas Wink), all 18 Sept.; Frankfurter Allgemeine Zeitung, 19 Sept. (Andreas Rossmann); NurnbergerZeitung, 21 Sept. (Dieter Sparrer); Annonce. RheinArt, 23 Sept. ("rae" and "he"); Die Rheinpfalz, 25 Sept., reprinted in Neues RheinlandNovember (Werner Schulze-Reimpell); Banner Rundschau, loOct., reprinted Theater Rundschau in December (H.D. Terschiiren - an odd reversal of his piece on 18,19 Sept.); and the Rheinischer Merkur, Oct. 1992 (Giinter Engelhard). The reviews describe what they generally judge to be a lacklustre theatre production, overshadowed by its musical "accompaniment," but as we might expect, for reasons that have nothing to do with theatre, music, or aesthetics, the audience at the premiere was wildly enthusiastic in its response. Later reactions (with no free champagne included) were mixed. 33 Respectively Gyorgy Sebestyen in the Salzburger Nachrichten and Fritz Koselka in the Wiener Zeitung, both 22 June 1971.1 also consulted the following reviews (all 1971): Kurier (Wien) (Gustav W. Trampitsch), 17 June; Kurier (Wien) (Paul Blaha), 21 June; Die Presse (Gotthard Bohm), 26 June; Abendzeitung (Wien) (Harald Sterk), Oberosterreichische Nachrichten Linz (Ludwig Plakolb), Vorarlberger Nachrichten Bregenz, NeueZeit Graz, all 22 June; Sudost Tagespost Graz (Heinrich Neumayer), Tinier

303

34

35

36

37

38

Notes to pages 257-9

Tageszeitung Innsbruck (Krista Hauser), Wochenpresse (Wien) (Duglore Pizzini), all 23 June; Vomrlberger Volksblatt Bregenz, 7 July; Die Buhne, 1971 July, 8-10. Respectively, Irmgard Steiner, Neues Volksblattand Heinz Sichrovsky, Arbeiter Zeitung, 5 October 1982. Die Buhne, Sept. 1992, 9—12 contains an overview of public and critical reaction to the production and its place within the context of the problem of "klassisches Erbe," as well as an interview with Palitzsch. I have also consulted these further reviews (all 1982): AbendZeit, 24, 25 July (Ingrid Seidenfaden, re Bregenz); Frankfurter Rundschau, 3 August. (Otto Hochreiter, re Bregenz); DiePresse, i Oct.; Oberosterreichische Nachrichten, Kleine Zeitung (Kurt Wimmer), Wiener Zeitung (Rudolf U. Klaus), Kronen-Zeitung(Viktor Reimann), Salzburger Nachrichten (Alfred Pfoser), DiePresse(Karin Kathrein), all 5 Oct.; Katholische Presse ("b."), 6 Oct.; Die Furche (Hellmut Butterweck), 7 Oct.; Stuttgarter Zeitung (Cornelia KrauE), Suddeutsche Zeitung (Otto F. Beer), both 8 Oct.; Profit ("S.L."), n Oct.; Theater heute, 1982:10 (Manfred Seiler, re Bregenz); and Frankjurter Neue Presse (reprint Otto F. Beer), 4 Oct. In several cases, the same critics reviewed the 1971 Burgtheater and 1981 Volksdieater productions of Egmont, providing material for interesting comparisons. Only Cornelia Kraufi, Stuttgarter Zeitung, struck a positive tone, but even she warned of the "hohen Anspruch an den Zuschauer, der sich diesem Prozel? unterziehen will." I discount the flighty account in Profit which in its subtitle claims that "Der vielverissene Burg-'Egmont' hat dennoch unleugbare Meriten," but fails to point out a single one. Although he does not refer to this production, W! Daniel Wilson's excellent discussion of Egmont staging and the performance of citizen scenes widi grotesque masks in a carnival manner seems to reflect some of what Palitzsch actually did (1994, 86-7). See 1981 reviews in the Neues Volksblatt (Remit Wagner), Oberosterreichische Nachrichten (Ludwig Plakolb), Oberiisterreichisches Tageblatt Linz (Eric Derman), Die Presse (Hans Haider), Salzburger Nachrichten (Oliver vom Hove), Volksstimme Wien, reprint (same date) Volkswille Klagenfurt, Wahrheit Graz (Hugo Huppert), Wiener Morgen Kurier (Kurt Kahl), Wiener Zeitung (Rudolf U. Klaus), all 27 March; Neue Zeit Graz, 28 March; Wiener WochenbLut, 4 April; Wiener Kirchenzeitung (S.J.), 5 April; Siid Ost Tagespost (Monika Schneider), n April; Die Buhne, May, pp. 3, 4 and 6. Neue Zurcher Zeitung, 22 Sept. 1970.1 also read the following reviews (all 1970): Neue Zurcher Nachrichten (Carl Holenstein), Zurichsee-Zeitung (Richard Merz), Tagesanzeiger Zurich (Peter Meier), Neue Zurcher Zeitung (I.V.), all 26 Sept.; Abend-Zeitung (Ziirich) (Gustav Huonker), Die Tat (Zurich) (ebs.), both 28 Sept.; Mannheimer Morgen, SaarbriickerZeitung(Jiirgen Buschkiel), both 29 Sept.; Vaterland(Beatrice von Matt), 30 Sept.; Die Welt (reprint Jiirgen Buschkiel), i Oct., Die Weltwoche (Zurich) (Werner Wollenberger), i Oct. and (Manuel Gasser), 2 Oct.; StuttgarterZeitung(Jiirgen Buschkiel), 6 Oct.; Die Biihne (Th.T.), 1970:10; Der Landbote (Heidi Baur), 4 Nov.; Abend-Zeitung (Zurich) (Ernst Wohlwend), Hochwacht(ha), both 5 Nov.; Tribune de Geneve (Claude Henry), 26 Nov.; SchaffhauserZeitung(V.), Schaffhauser Nachrichten (xp), 4 Dec.; Schaffhauser Abend-Zeitung (kb), II Dec.

304

Notes to pages 261-2

39 Finally, my knowledge of Hotst Gnekow's Bern Egmont of 1976 is limited largely to the awareness that, although advertised in the program as Goethe's tragedy, it was played "unter Verwendung der Biihnenfassung von Friedrich Schiller." But since all of Goethe's characters are present, it must have been a hybrid. 40 A ninth, HerzogAlba undPrinz Wilhelm von Oranien (Solar-Film, 1919), seems to have been based on the same historical events. My list of Egmont films is derived primarily from Albert Estermann, Die Verfilmung literarischer Werke (1965); Herbert Birett, Das Filmangebot in Deutschland 1895-ion (1991); Knut Hickethier, Das Fernsehspiel(1980); Hans-Michael Bock, ed., Cinegraph (1984); Lexikon des Internationalen Films (1987); Alan Goble, ed., The International Film Index (1991); Herbert Holba, ed., Reclams deutsches Filmlexikon (1984,1993); Ulrich Scheele, ed., Verzeichnis Lieferbarer Kaufoideos 1093 (1993); Lexikon der Fernsehspiele (1977-93); and Horst Schafer, ed., Fischer Film Almanack (1985-94). Making lists of films is one thing, finding and viewing them quite another. Many are simply no longer available, others in archives or private collections which refuse access or allow it only at enormous cost. I discuss all the films to which I have gained access through reasonable cost and effort. 41 I have, however, profited from some secondary literature on film analysis, which has suggested to me many questions to be asked and perspectives to consider. Works include Alfred Estermann, as above; Werner Faustig, Einfiihrung in die Filmanalyse (1976); Louis Giannetti, Understanding Movies (1993); Monika Reif, Film und Text (1984); and Eric Rentschler, ed. German Film and Literature (1986). There are also two worthwhile discussions on theatre adapted for television and film in Theater heute, 1973:9, 20-31 and 1988:3, 52-6 and Theater 1992, Hrsg. von der Redaktion der Zeitschrift Theater heute, 54-65.

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PRIMARY SOURCES Johann Wolfgang von Goethe Briefe an Goethe. Gesamtausgabe in Regestform. Vol. 3, 1799-1801. Ed. Karl-Heinz Hahn. Weimar: Bohlau 1983. Der Briefwechselzwischen Goethe undZelter, 3 vols., 1799-1818. Ed. MaxHecker. Leipzig: Insel 1913-18. Goethe, Johann Wolfgang. Sdmtliche Werke. Briefe, Tagebiicher und Gesprdche. 40 vols. Ed. Dieter Borchmeyer et al. Frankfurt/Main: Deutscher Klassiker Verlag 1985-. I. Abt. vol. v. Dramen 1776-1700. 1988. Unter Mitarbeit von Peter Huber, ed. Dieter Borchmeyer. Egmont, 459-551,1233-80. Frankfurter Ausgabe (FA). Goethe. Johann Wolfgang. Sdmtliche Werke nach Epochen seines Schaffem. Eds. Karl Richter et al. 19 vols. Munchen: Hanser 1985-. Egmont Vol. in, i. Eds. Norbert Miller & Hartmut Reinhardt. 1990. pp. 246-329, 818-884. Johann Peter Eckermann. Gesprdche mit Goethe in den letzten Jahren seines Lebens, vol. xix. Ed. Heinz Schlaffer. 1986. Miinchner Ausgabe (MA). Goethe. Egmont. Ed. Arnold Schloenbach. Bibliothek der deutschen Klassiker. Vol. x. Hildburghausen: Bibliographisches Institut 1862. Goethe. Egmont. Mit Anmerkungen von Hans Wagener. Stuttgart: Reclam 1970, Anmerkungen erganzt 1993. Universalbibliothek, 75. Goethe. Egmont. Vollstdndiger Text des Trauerspiels. (Deutung und Dokumentation.) Ed. Max von Briick. Frankfurt: Ullstein 1969. Dichtung und Wirklichkeit, 31. Ullstein Buch, 3931.

306 Works Cited Goethe. Gedenkausgabe der Werke, Briefs und Gesprdche. 24 vols. Eds. Ernst Beutler & Kurt May. Zurich: Artemis 1948-60. Gedenkausga.be. Goethe, Werke. 22 vols. + supplementary vol. Eds. Regine Otto et al. Berlin Weimar 1960—74. Berliner Ausgabe. Goethes Briefe und Briefe an Goethe. Ed. Karl Robert Mandelkow. Hamburger Ausgabe in 6 vols. 3rd. ed. Miinchen: Beck 1988. Goethes Egmont fur die Btihne bearbeitet von Schiller. Ed. A[ugust] Diezmann. Stuttgart/ Augsburg: no publ. 1857. Goethes Gesprdche. Eine Sammlung zeitgenossischer Berichte aus seinem Umgang auf Grund der Ausgabe und des Nachlasses von Flodoard Freiherm von Biedermann. Ed. Wolfgang Henvig. 4 vols. Zurich/Stuttgart: Artemis 1965. Goethes Samtliche Werke. 40 vols. Ed. Eduard von der Hellen. Stuttgart/Berlin: Cotta [1902-12]. Jubilaumsausgabe. Gothe's Schriften. Egmont. Vol. v. Leipzig: Goschen 1788. Goethes Werke. 14 vols. Ed. Erich Trunz, textkritisch durchgesehen und kommentiert von Wolfgang Kayser. Hamburg: Wegner 1953. nth ed. Miinchen: Beck 1982. Egmont iv, 370-454, 584-95. Hamburger Ausgabe (HA). Goethes Werke. 18 vols. Ed. Robert Petsch. Leipzig: Bibliographiscb.es Institut 1926-27. Festausgabe. Goethes Werke. Hrsg. im Auftrag der GroKherzogin Sophie von Sachsen. 4 Abteilungen mit insgesamt 133 [in 143] Banden. Weimar: Bohlau 1887-1919. Egmont, I, 8, 171-305, 340—64. Weimarerot Sophien-Ausgabe(WA). Goethe's Werke. Vollstdndige Ausgabe letzter Hand. Egmont. Vol. vm. Stuttgart/Tubingen: Cotta 1828.175-315. Friedrich von Schiller Friedrich Schiller. Biihnenbearbeitungen. Ed. Herbert G. Gopfert. Miinchen: dtv 1966. Schiller. Samtliche Werke. Eds. Gerhard Fricke & Herbert G. Gopfert. Miinchen: Hanser 1959. Schiller's review of Egmont, vol. v (1959), 932-42. Schiller's adaptation of Egmont, vol. in, 649-733, 987-90. Schillers Samtliche Werke, Vol. xn, eds. Otto Giintter & Georg Witkowski. Leipzig: Hesse [1910]. Conrad Hofer, ed. Egmont [Mannheim manuscript h2]. Schillers Samtliche Werke. Vol. xn. Ed. Conrad Hofer. Horenausgabe. Miinchen: Mtiller 1913. Egmont [Weimar manuscript h1]. Schillers Werke. Nationalausgabe. Vol. xm. Biihnenbearbeitungen. Part one. Ed. Hans Heinrich Borcherdt. Weimar: Bohlau 1949. Vol. xxn, review of Egmont, 199-209. Vol. xxvin. Briefwechsel 1795-1796. Ed. Norbert Oellers. Weimar: Bohlau 1969. Other Primary Sources Beethovens Samtliche Briefe. Kritische Ausgabe. Ed. with commentary by Alf. Chr. Kalischer. 5 vols. Berlin/Leipzig: Schuster & Loeffler 1906-08.

307 Works Cited Gryphius, Andreas. Gesamtausgabe der deutschsprachigen Werke. Eds. Marian Szyrocki & Hugh Powell. Vol. I. Sonette. Ed. Marian Szyrocki. Tubingen: Niemeyer 1963. Hacks, Peter. Ausgewahlte Dramen 2. Berlin: Aufbau 1976. Lessing, Gotthold Ephraim. Werke. Ed. Herbert G. Gopfert. 8 vols. Miinchen: Hanser 1970-79. iv: Dramaturgische Schriften. Ed. Karl Eibl. Miinchen: Hanser 1973. Moser, Justus. "Der jetzige Hang zu allgemeinen Gesetzen und Verordnungen ist der gemeinen Freiheit gefahrlich" [1775]. Patriotische Phantasien und Zugehoriges. Sdmtliche Werke. 2. Abt. Bearb. v. Ludwig Schirmeyer & Werner Kohlschmidt, S. 22—26. Oldenburg (Oldb)/Berlin: Stalling 1945. Walser, Martin. In Goethes Hand. Szenen aus dem 10. Jahrhundert. Frankfurt: Suhrkamp 1982. SECONDARY SOURCES Works on Egmont Barley, Edward M. "Reflections of Italy in the Equine Imagery of Goethes Egmont." German Life and Letters 43 (1989): 1-17. Bennett, Benjamin. Modern Drama and German Classicism. Renaissance from Lessing to Brecht. Ithaca: Cornell U. Press 1979. Bockmann, Paul. "Die Freiheit des Wortes in Goethes 'Egmont'." In P.B. Formensprache. Studien zur Literardsthetik und Dichtungsinterpretation, 126-46, 525-6. Hamburg: Hoffmann und Campe 1966. — "Goethe. Egmont." Benno von Wiese, ed. Das deutsche Drama vom Barock bis zur Gegenwart. Interpretationen. 2nd. ed. vol. 1,147-68. Diisseldorf: Bagel 1960. Braemer, Edith. "Goethes 'Egmont' und die Konzeption des Damonischen." Weimarer Beitrdged and Sonderheft (1960): ion-z8. Braunbehrens, Volkmar. "Egmont, das lang vertrodelte Stuck." Sonderband Goethe. Ed. Heinz Ludwig Arnold, 84-100. Miinchen: Text und Kritik 1982. — "Egmont zwischen Grofien und Kleinen." Berliner Hefte 14 (1980): 15—36. Briiggemann, Fritz. "Goethes 'Egmont', die Tragodie des versagenden Biirgertums." Jahrbuch der Goethe-Gesellschaft n (1925): 151-72. Busch, Ernst. "Egmont." DerDeutschunterrichtj (1949): 18-36. Calhoun, Martha. "Music as Subversive Text: Beethoven, Goethe and the Overture ro Egmont." Mosaic. A Journal for the Interdisciplinary Study of Literature 20 (1987): 4356. Conrady, Karl Otto. "Egmont." Goethe. Leben und Werk. Vol. I, Hdlfte des Lebens, 47284. Konigstein/Ts.: Athenaum 1982. Dahnke, Hans-Dietrich. "GeschichtsprozeK und Individualitatsverwirklichung in Goethes 'Egmont'." Hans-Giinther Thalheim und Ursula Wertheim, eds. Studien zur Literaturgeschichte und Literaturtheorie, 58-100, 340-4. Berlin: Riitten und Loening 1970. Diintzer, Heinrich. Goethes Egmont. Erldutert. Jena: Wartig 1858. Erlauterungen zu den deutschen Klassikern I, 7. 2nd. ed. Leipzig: Wartig 1874.

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Index

actors and acting, 18,122: celebrity status, 185,190-1, 247, 268; confusing identity with role, 127; declamatory style, 189-90; effectiveness, 146,162-3, 177—81; female, 128; guides, I93n6; incompetence and misbehaviour, 126—7, 131,192-3; methodology, 143-4; natural style, 194,194n8; overview of technique, I93n6; reviews of, 135—7; rhetorical technique, 139,142; and society, 219; and the visual arts, 193,195—6. See also blocking; costumes aesthetic norms, 126 Alter, Jean, 19 Anna Amalia, Countess, 191, 209; library in Weimar, I53n7,191n2 audience, who had read text, 126, 129,132, 178; social interactions of, 140

Bonn, 253—4; Brandenburg, 238; Cologne, 243; Dessau, 235, 254; Dusseldorf, 248, 257; Frankfurt, 140,145, 251, 266-7; Hamburg, 137-9; Innsbruck, 258; Karlsruhe, 244-5; Mannheim, 121, 133; Munich, 226, 246; Potsdam, 232; Vienna, 115,125,135-6, 256-7; Weimar, 236 Bellomo (Bellonio, Josef), 92 Benda, Karoline, 127 Bennett, Benjamin, 6, 11, 269 Bennewitz, Fritz, 236-7, 256 Beschort Friedrich Jonas, 131—2,169, 180-1, 264 blocking, 121, 137, 142; in Mannheim, 199 Brechtian technique, 256 Breth, Andrea, 230 Bottiger, Karl August, 106-7,144, 166, 177-80, 223 Barba, Eugenio, 21 Borcherdt, Hans Heinrich, NationalausBecker, Johann Heinrich Christian Ludgabe of Schiller's works, 16, 23, 25-7, 31; wig, 142,150,180-1 on the Mannheim manuscript, 34; Beethoven, Ludwig van manuscript sources, 26-8 - and Goethe, 227 Borchmeyer, Dieter, 15, 25 - score to Egmont, 15, 94,115,121,125,132, Brook, Peter, 21 Brussels, 7, 210—11, 256, 259, 265 133, 135-6, 137-9, 140, 145; in productions, 15-16, 94; Berlin, 132, 229, 240; in Buckwitz, Harry, 259—61

321 Index canon of literature, 142 Carl August, Duke of Weimar, 131-2, I53n7, 210-15 censor, 129,138, 146 characters - Alba, 107,153, 263; picture of, 182; and Ferdinand, 106-7, 265 — Brackenburg, 153-4 — deleted, 136, 141 - Egmont: and Alba, 105-6, 264; and citizens, 159; and Ferdinand, 105,107,113; as hero, 105,107, 111, 167, 246; and Klarchen, 155-6, 159-60, 246-7; and Oranien, 264; as Knight of the Golden Fleece, 155-6, 177,184, 264, 265, 267; pictures, 182-5; as transvestite, 251n27 — erotic depiction of, 224 — female, 96 - framing, 153-6 - Klarchen, 161-2, 215, 266,155n8; as active heroine, 105; as allegory, 178; and Brackenburg, 113; as passive partner, 107; pictures, 182-4 - Oranien, picture of, 184 — profiling, 96 — reduction in number of, 95-6 - stage, 184, 190, 222, 268 — transformation of, 18-19 chorus,13O cinema. See film classicism, classical: associations, 150; attitude, 206, 222-3; costumes, 224; culture, 210; German, 4-5, 11, 145; tradition ("klassisches Erbe"), 229, 234, 267; works, 131, 146, 229; writers, 5, 18 coding and decoding, 17, 19, 148. See also semiotics costumes, 129, 132,134-5, 137-8, 142,146, 197; actors' choice of, 197; ahistorical, 238-9, 246, 250-1, 257-8, 260; colour of 142, 264, 267; Egmont's Spanish, 183, 242, 251, 263-5, 267; and fashion, 224; in films, 263; Goethe as Orest, 190; Goethe's views on, 197; historical, 243, 245, 248, 250-1, 256, 258; in Mannheim, 198; Schroter as Iphigenie, 190

curtain, 116,121,130,161, 178,197, 256 daemonic, 11, 13, 26, 259, 269 Dalberg, Wolfhgang Heribert von, 6,135, 198-9 deja-vu/lu/entendu, 144-6 director's book, 27n1, 29, 231, 244, 260; instructions, I2I-2 drama, dramatic literature, 5,144, 226, 268; historical, 14, 212 Duntzer, Heinrich, 8,157 Dyk, Johann Gottfried, 196 Eckardt, Siegfried Gotthelf, 92, 140 Eckermann, Johann Peter, 93, 107, 215-16 editions, reliability, 7. See also Egmont, editions Egmont - citizen scenes, 96, 104, 110—11, 120-1, 142, 236, 246, 251, 255-6, 264 - dramatic effectiveness, 95—6 - dream vision infinalact, 12,15-16,106, 132-4,138,142,162-7; in Mainz, 128-30 premiere, 128-9; in Weimar (1796), 177—81; in modern productions, 232—3, 239, 242-3, 244, 247, 248, 254, 256, 258, 260. See also vision - duration of performance, 113,141; 2 hours, 239; 3 hours, 234, 237; 31/4 hours, 113; 31/2 hours, 247-8, 263; 4 hours, 251 - editions, 24-6 - extratextual information, 123 - on film, 261—7. See also film - and Goethe's psychological state, 210-18 - historical dimensions, 142,144,146, 212, 214n12 - language of, 10-11 - length:fiveacts, 107,119,130,133,135-7, 141, 232, 237, 240, 255, 260; four acts, 120,130,133,139; three acts, 29,107,121, 131,136, 232 — literary aspects, 114, 144 - maskedfigures(Vermummte), 96, 106—7, 114, 116, 215—16 — as paradigm, 11, 93, 269 - performed in: Aachen, 125, 230-31;

322

Index

Amsterdam, 240-1; Augsburg, 125; Austria and Switzerland (modern), 254-61; Berlin, 29, 94,123,124-5,128,130-3, 136,180, 228, 230-31, 240-42, 264; Bern, 230-31; Bonn, 136, 230-31, 253-4; Brandenburg, 230-31, 238-9; Braunschweig, 125,145; Bregenz, 230-31, 256; Bremen, 125; Breslau, 125-6,128, 135; Cologne, 125-6, 230-31, 243-4; Darmstadt, 125; Dessau, 230-31, 234-6; Dresden, 125-6,143; Diisseldorf, 230-31, 247-9, 263-4; Eisenach, 230-31, 238; the Federal Republic of Germany, 243—54; Florence, 123; Frankfurt/Main, 94,114,124-6, 128, 134,140-7,150, 180-1, 225, 228, 230-31, 249-53; the German Democratic Republic, 232—42; Greifswald, 230-31, 238; Halle, 93, 125-6; Hamburg, 94,123-5,128-9, 137—40; Hannover, 125; Innsbruck, 230-31, 258; Karlsruhe, 125,127, 230-31, 244-6; Kassel, 125; Lauchstadt, 93, 125—6; Leipzig, 29, 93—4,125-6, 134-5, 230-31, 2.39-40, 249; Leningrad, 240; Mainz (premiere, 1789), 92,114—15, 124—5,128—32,140; Mannheim, 28, 94, 124—5,127—8,133—5; Moscow, 240; Munich, 94,124-5, 230—1, 246—7; Potsdam, 230-4; Prague, 125; Salzburg, 230—1, 258; Stuttgart, 125,128,136-7; Vienna, 92,115,124—5,128,135-6, 230-1, 254—61; Weimar (1791), 92,125; Weimar (1796), 3,106,125,131, 139,143, 176-81, 215-16; Weimar thereafter, 93,123,125, 137,184, 230-1, 236-8; Wiesbaden, 130; Zurich, 230-1, 259-61 phases of development, 210-11 political aspects, 11, 138, 234-5, 239, 241, 244, 255-6, 257-8, 260, 265, 267 prison scene, 106,129, 232-3, 242-3, 247, 260, 264 productions (1789-1832), 123-47; (183269), 226-9; (1970-95), 124, 229-61, 247 songs deleted by Schiller, 28 songs in, 105,115, 235, 239, 243, 253, 259 structure of, 10-11,15, 33, 94-5,119 and the visual arts, 210-24

- visual aspects of, 15-16, 96,132-3,138, 142,146, 256, 260, 266, 269 — See also symbols; text Einsiedel, Friedrich Hildebrand von, 186, 189,193,195 Ekhof, Conrad, 193 Ellis, John, 12-14 Engel, Johann Jakob, 193-6, 294n6 Fambach, Oscar, 124-5, 147 film(s), 7, 33,121,137,160-1,179,182, 219, 261-7, 231 242, 254, 258; analysis, 262; of Berlin production, 264; close-ups, 263, 265; of Diisseldorf production, 263-4; of Egmont, 262, 264—7; by Hilsdorf, 253, 266—7; of literary works, 262; by Schiemann, 262, 264-5; of stage productions, 262-4; by Wirth, 262, 265-6; by Zischler, 244-6 Fischer-Lichte, Erika, 18—19 Fontane, Theodor, 123 Frankfurter-Ausgabe, 25,124 Frederick William111,King of Prussia, 130-1, 241 Fuchs, Oswald, 258 Furtwangler, Wilhelm, 229 Geistesgeschichte, 8,16 Genast, Anton, 107, 192 Genast, Eduard, 107, 184 gender crossing, 11 Germanistik, 144, 247, 268; and Theaterwissenschaft, 124 Geyser, Christian Gottlieb, 168 Glass, Philip, 251 Gochhausen, Luise Ernestine Christiane von, 190—1 Goethe, Johann Wolfgang von: as actor, 21—2,187,189—92; adoration of, 131, 227; aesthetics, theatre, 137,142, 165,194-9, 217-24, 256; and Beethoven, 227; birthday, 139, 264; as civil servant, 21; collaboration with Schiller, 26,176—81; and costuming, 197; death, 139, 143, 230; dependence on Vienna, I98n14; Dichtung und Wahrheit, 152, 210-15; "Uber den Dilettantismus," 192—3; as director, 7,

323

Index

19, 21, 135,192—8, 269; drawings and paintings by, 188, 200-4, 217—21; Eginard, 204, 221; Erwin und Elmire, 218; his father, 213; Faust, 6,142, 218, 245; garden house, 200, 209; Gesprdche, 212; Hermann und Dorothea, 175, 184; Iphigenie auf Tauris, 187,189—91, 215, 217; Italienische Reise, 167,179, 210-13, 216-18; Jeri undBdtely, 218; natiirliche Tochter, 245; and painting, 167,195; and politics, 212; as private citizen, 21; PropyIden, 196; Proserpina essay, 196; "Regeln fur Schauspieler," 193-8; Romische Elegien, 9; as scientist, 21; as set designer, 197; as stage character, 22, 187,189-92; Tasso, 217; and Thackeray, 222; and theatre architecture, 218-19; theatre exhibitions, I97n13; as universal poet, 21; Urgotz, 228; "Urworte. Orphisch", 245; and the visual arts, 217—18; Wahlverwandschaften, 223; Werther, 245; Wilhelm Meister, 21—2; Xenien, 250; Zauberlehrling, 245. See also icon Gopfert, Herbert G., 31-2 Goring, Hermann, 229 Goflfmann, Erving, 21, 153-6 Gottschalk, Hans, 262, 265-6 Gravelines, Battle of, 157-8 groupings, scenic, 146 Griindgens, Gustav, 229 Griiner, Karl Franz, 193 Gryphius, Andreas, 150 Hacks, Peter, 5 Hamburger-Ausgabe, 25 Hamilton, Gavinus, 207 Hamilton, Lady (Emma Harte), 206-7 Hamilton, Sir William, 222-3 Haneke, Michael, 246 harmony in stage productions, 4,142,146, 194-7, 217, 236 Haugk, Dietrich, 244, 254-6 Hendel-Schiitz, Johanna Henriette Rosine, 223 Henry, Martha, 230 Henschel brothers, 182 Herder, Caroline, 211

Herder, Johann Gottfried, 24, 210 Heyme, Hansgiinther, 243-4, 247 Hilsdorf, Dietrich, 244, 249-53 Hitler, Adolf, and National Socialism, 229, 247 Holtei, Carl Eduard von, 126 hooded figures. See Egmont, masked figures Huber, Ludwig Ferdinand, 165-6 Hufeland, Christoph Wilhelm, 190 Humboldt, Wilhelm von, 196 icon, 4,17, 20,139,146. See also image Iffland, August Wilhelm, 6-7, 19, 92,107, 131-2,135,192; performance in Weimar (1796), 176-81; as prototype, 143-4, 264; visits to Weimar later, 193 Ihering, Herbert, 228 Ilmenau, 215-16 image, aspects of, 4, 7; as icon, 157-9, 2-69; literary, 7; of mankind, 210; moving, 160,179; playwright's, 269; power of, 95; public, 183, 210, 215; of the self, 21,154, 210; in society, 209-24; static, 196; in text, 149-53, 167; of war, 149-51,177 Jacobi, Friedrich Heinrich, 215 Jagemann, Caroline, 191 Jessner, Leopold, 228 John, Ernst Carl Christian, 27n1 John, Johann August Friedrich, 27n1 Joseph 11, Emperor of Austria, 7,15, 125, 210 Jury, Johann Friedrich Wilhelm, 169,171-2 Kalb, Charlotte von, 215 Kant, Immanuel, 250 Kauffmann, Angelika, 168,173, 179-81, 183, 210, 215, 217 Kayser, Karl, 239 Kayser, Philipp Christoph, 114-15, 210 Kilian, Eugen, 141,153n7,167, 167n17,178, I78n5, 226-8, 253 Klein, Anton von, 215 Knebel, Carl Ludwig von, 215 Koch, Heinrich Gottfried, 129 Koch, Siegfried Gotthelf Eckardt, 129 Kowzan, Tadeusz, 17—19

324

Index

— Schlofi-Museum, 28 - scribe, 104-5, 107,112-13, 115-16, 122. - second manuscript, 30 — set changes, 116 - Theatergesetze, 198—9 Marxist approach, 12 media studies, 33 Langhoff, Wolfgang, 229, 235, 239 Meltke, Martin, 238 Lessing, Gotthold Ephraim, 193 Meteren, Emmanuel van, 148 Liebhabertheater (private theatre) in methodology, 16—22 Weimar, 22,189-90, 222 Meyer, Johann Heinrich, 176 lighting, 116,120-1,137,137, 248; in Berlin, Mickel, Karl, 232-4 241; Brandenburg, 238; dream vision Mickisch, Irmgard, 233 scene, 181,183; Diisseldorf, 249, 264; Miller, Norbert, 6-7, 25-6 films, 263; Frankfurt, 266; of house, mime (pantomime) and gestures, 115,122, 146,178,199, 251; in Karlsruhe, 245, 247; 132, 134,162,166,178-81,196, 237, Mannheim, 199; Vienna, 257 263-4 Lips, Johann Heinrich, 173,183 monarchy,11, 107; criticism of, 111; foreign, 125 Lowe, Ferdinand, 135,142 Luyken, Jakob, 158 Morgenstern, Johann Ludwig Ernst, 200-01 Mannheim Morghen, Raphael, 207 - blocking plans, 199 Motte-Fouque, Friedrich Baron de la, 107, 215-16 - costumes, 198—9 - curtain, 116 moving pictures. See film - Dalberg, 198-9 Miiller, Adam, 217 Miinchner Ausgabe, 7,10, 25-6,124 - decline, 199 - director's book, 29-30 Musculus, Christian Theodor, 107 - lighting changes, 116,120,199 music, 114-15,121,139. See also Beethoven, - manuscript of Egmont, 7,16, 23, 27, 32, Kayser (Philipp), Reichardt 34-91, 36-91, 94-6, 231; abbreviations, 35; additions, 34; copyist's changes, 97, Naeke, Gustav Heinrich, 169,172-3 106,114; deletions, 28, 34; description, Naples, 221—3 34; differences from Schiller's adaptaNelson, Admiral Horatio Viscount, 222 Netherlands (Lowlands), 10,125, 142, 149tion, 31, 96-107; emendations, 27-8, 108-12, no; by later hands, 116-22; ex50,157-9, ^4-5, 212, 229, 256, 259; tratextual markings, 30,108,112-13, songs, 239. See also Egmont performed in Amsterdam 114-22; marginal notations, 34-5,112; performance instructions, 34 Nikulka, Hans-Jiirgen, 241 Noelte, Rudolf, 244, 247, 256, 263 - Nationaltheater, 6,133,176,198-9 - prompter, 115 Oels, Carl Ludwig, 184 - prompter's book, 30, 255-6, 258 - prompter's emendations, 19, 29 Oeser, Adam Friedrich, 168,178,181,183 - ReiE-Museum, 3, 23, 32, 36 painting, 96,163,185; Dutch, 158, 235, - rhetorical dimension, 122 248-9; English, 197; Renaissance, 167, - rhetorical style, 122 217. See also Goethe and painting - Schiller there, 176 Kraus, Georg Melchior, 186-7, 189, 197, 223 Kreidl, Heinz, 253—4 Kronacher, Alwin, 228 Krumme, Peter, 245 Kupke, Peter, 232-4

325

Index

Palitzsch, Peter, 244, 247, 256-8 Pavis, Patrice, 17-18 Peirce, Charles, 17 performance, 4-5,15, 30; analysis and semiology, 16-22,156,158, 268; reconstruction, 119; reflections of text in, 123—47; tension between performance and text, 95,129,141,143, 146. See also Egmont, performed in Philipp 11, King of Spain, 151, 256 photographs, 182, 230—1 plastic arts, 134,196—8 prompter's book, 29n7. See also Mannheim, prompter's book psychoanalysis, 14, 211n10; and Weimar society, 14 radio, 33 Raffael (Raffaello Santi), 217. See also Schadow Rahner, Martin, 241 Ramberg, Johann Heinrich, 170-2,174, 181, 208 Regiebuch. See director's book Regietheater, 229, 257, 260 Rehberg, Friedrich, 223 rehearsals, 136, 194-5, 197 Reichardt, Johann Friedrich, 115,121,131 Reinhardt, Hartmut, 6-7,10, 25-6 Reinhardt, Max, 228 Reinhold, Carl Wilhelm, 193 Rentzlich, 170 role playing, 184—5 Rome, 15, 210, 214-15, 221 Rustler-Ourth, Renate, 230, 258 Saxe-Weimar, Duchy of, 15 scene changes, 115—16; framing, 159—62; number in Egmont, 95—6; order in Egmont, 120 Schadow, Friedrich Wilhelm von, 171, 181, 217 Schauspielkunst, 143,146. See also actor, methodology Schechner, Richard, 21 Schiemann, Helmut, 264-5 Schiller, Friedrich von

— — -

adaptation alterations, 96-107 aesthetics of theatre, 165 birthday, 239 Don Carlos, 251n28 dramaturgy, 16 Egmont adaptation, 3, 9-10,16, 24-33, 92-7,141; in Geschichte desAbfalls der vereinigten Niederlande, 148; Leipzig, 239-40; on the modern stage, 250-1 - in Mannheim, 176 - Rauber, 29n9 — review of Egmont (1788), 123,162,165—6, 181, 218, 233, 255 — Wallenstein, 93 — See also Goethe, collaboration Schinkel, Carl Friedrich, 140 Schmelka, Johann Heinrich Ludwig, 126 Schmid, Christian Heinrich, 195-6 Schmidt, Friedrich Ludwig, 137 Schmidt, Heinrich, 106 Schneider, Karl, 234—6 Schonemann, Johann Friedrich, I93n5 Schroter, Corona, 187,189-91, 222 Schubert, Franz, 251 Schwerdgeburth, Carl August, 170,172-5, 181, 208 screen. See film Seidel, Philipp Friedrich, 215 semiotics, 33; theatre, 16-22,137,140, 230; Prague school of, 190 sets, 19, 116, 132,142,146; design, 134,137; and Goethe's drawings, 221; innovative, 242, 259—60 Shakespeare, William, 9 sociohistorical analysis, 32 Solter, Friedo, 240-2, 244, 247 Soufflierbuch/Souffleurbuch. See prompter's book Spain, occupying force, 96,165, 239 Stae'l, Madame de, 166 "Staffage," 195, I95n10 stage, staging, 33,141; crew, 115; modern, 184, 257; directions, 183; Schiller's directions, 28,114-22,162-3 static impression, 95 Stein, Charlotte von, 191, 200, 209, 211 Stein, Fritz von, 200, 215

326

Index

Stein, Peter, 229 Unzelmann, Friedrike Auguste KonraStrada, Famianus, 148 dine, 130-2 symbols: of darkness and light, 150-1; horse, II, 151-3,153n7, 210, 236, 245, 263, Vermummte. See Egmont, masked figures 267, 236n13; river, 150; tree, 151, 265; vision, 162—7; visual arts, 210, 217—24; cliwindow, 159-62, 264-5 max, 116, 160, 236, 260; elements, 115; impact, 156,183; transformation, 116. tableau, 15; vivant, 222-3 See also Egmont, dream vision Talma, Francois-Joseph, 196 Vogel, Christian Georg Karl, 24 technical bravado, 121; necessities, 116, Vulpius, Christiane, 209, 211 138-9; gaffes, 126 television, 5, 33, 253, 258, 261—2; compared Walser, Martin, 4-5 with video, 267 Walter, Friedrich, 29-30 text of Egmont Weimar — adaptation of, 4 — archives, 27 — authority of, 4 - court, 6, 15,124, 189, 220; satire on, 224 - emendations to, 30 - court theatre, 192 - director's book, 27, 29 — dramatic viability, 132 - library.SeeAnna Amalia - extratextual elements, 16-18, 94,146; annotations, 28, 32; annotations ig- manuscript, 27-8, 30 nored, 32 — park, 200 - fixed, 17, 35 - theatre, 7, 18-19 - Goethe's original, 5, no, 122,132,140, - theatrefire,26 142, 243, 244, 247, 255, 258, 259-60, — stage, 93, 106 264 - style, 195,198 - multiple, 4,19 Weimarer-Ausgabe, 24,124 — performance, 3, 32 Wells, George A., 13—14 — as point of reference, 33 Wieland, Christoph Martin, 209 Wilkinson, Elisabeth, 9,12-13 - primacy of, 18, 269 — semiology, 17 Wilkinson, Elisabeth, 9,12-13 - See also performa Wolff, Amalie, 132,136,175,184 Wolff, Pius Alexander, 19,132,136,175,184, Thackeray, William Makepeace, 222—3 Thater, Julius Casar, 170 191,193; Goethe's praise of, 194 Theaterwissenschaft, 123 woodcut, 158-9, 161 Wouvermans, Philipp, 158—9 Thyret, Margot, 262 Tischbein, Johann Heinrich Wilhelm, 205, 2O7, 221-2 Zadek, Peter, 229 Toepfer, C., 175 Zelter, Karl Friedrich, 132 Zischler, Hanns, 244-6 Trifft, S., 208