Michael Peverett: Scott's translation of Goethe's <em>Goetz of Berlichingen</em>

Thursday, October 07, 2021

Scott's translation of Goethe's Goetz of Berlichingen

Walter Plathe as Götz von Berlichingen

[Image source: https://burgfestspiele-jagsthausen.de/burgfestspiele/galerien-und-videos/nggallery/inszenierungen-2015/goetz-von-berlichingen . From a 2015 production at Jagsthausen (where Götz lived), directed by Peter Dehler. Normally Burgfestspiele Jagsthausen puts on Goethe's play every year, but it was cancelled in 2020 and 2021.]

Act III Scene 6
Returns to Jaxthausen. Goetz and George.
George. He would speak with you in person. I know him not – a tall, well-made man, with dark keen eyes.
Goetz. Bring him in. [Exit George.]
Enter Lerse.
Goetz. God greet you! – What bring you?
Lerse. Myself: – it is not much, but that is all I have to offer.
Goetz. You are welcome, doubly welcome ! – A gallant man, and at a time when, far from expecting new friends, I trembled for the wavering fidelity of the old – Your name?
Lerse. Francis Lerse.
Goetz. I thank you, Francis, for having made me acquainted with a brave man!
Lerse. I made you acquainted with him once before, when you did not thank me for my pains.
Goetz. I remember nothing of it.
Lerse. I am sorry for that. Do you recollect when, to please the Palsgrave, you rode against Conrad Schotten, and went through Hassfurt on an Allhallows eve?
Goetz. I remember it well.
Lerse. And twenty-five troopers encountered you in a village by the way?
Goetz. Exactly. I took them only for twelve – and divided my party, which amounted but to sixteen, leaving part in the town, and riding forwards with the others, in hopes they would pass me, and be thus placed betwixt two fires.
Lerse. But we saw you, and guessed your intention. We drew up on the height above the village, in hopes you would attack us: when we observed you keep the road and go past, then we rode down on you.
Goetz. And then I first saw that I had put my hand into the wolf's mouth. Five-and-twenty against eight is no jesting business. Everard Truchsess killed one of my followers. Had they all behaved like him and one other trooper, it had been over with me and my little band.
Lerse. And that trooper –
Goetz. – was as gallant a fellow as I ever saw. He attacked me fiercely; and when I thought I had given him enough and was engaged elsewhere, he was upon me again, and laid on like a fury: he cut quite through my cuirass, and gave me a flesh-wound.
Lerse. Have you forgiven him?
Goetz. I had but too much reason to be pleased with him.
Lerse. I hope then you have cause to be contented with me, since my pattern exhibition was on your own person.
Goetz. Art thou he? – O welcome! welcome! – Can'st thou say, Maximilian, thou hast such a heart amongst all thy servants?
Lerse. I wonder you did not sooner enquire after me.
Goetz. How could I think that the man would engage in my service who attacked me so desperately?
Lerse. Even so, my lord – From my youth upwards I have served as a cavalier, and have had to do with many a knight. I was overjoyed to learn we were to attack you, for I had heard of your fame, and I wished to know you. You saw I gave way, and you saw it was not from cowardice, for I returned to the charge – In short, I did learn to know you, and from that hour I resolved to serve you.
Goetz. How long wilt thou engage with me?
Lerse. For a year – without pay.
Goetz. No – thou shalt have as the others, and as the foremost among them.
Enter George.
George. Hans of Selbiss greets you: – to-morrow he is here with fifty men.
Goetz. 'Tis well.
George. It is coming to sharps. – There is a troop of Imperialists come forwards, without doubt, to reconnoitre.
Goetz. How many?
George. About fifty or so.
Goetz. No more! – Come, Lerse, we'll have a crash with them, that when Selbiss comes he may find some work done to his hand.
Lerse. 'Twill be a royal foretaste.
Goetz. To horse! [Exeunt.]

This post is about Goethe's history play Götz von Berlichingen mit der eisernen Hand -- his first notable success, written in 1773 when he was 24 -- as translated by the 27-year-old Walter Scott in 1799. To give the full title:

Goetz of Berlichingen, with the Iron Hand, A Tragedy, from the German of Goethé. By Walter Scott, Esq. Advocate, Edinburgh. London : Printed for J. Bell, No. 148, Oxford Street, opposite New Bond Street. 1799.

Title as quoted in Scott's Poetical Works, vol 12. The original title page had "William Scott".

(A memory of walking past this junction the last time I was in London: of soulless hyperactivity, an unending concourse of mutual strangers hooked to electronic devices and heading somewhere else, the weary coffee outlets, hoarse billboards and desperate shopfront displays that no-one looks at any more. People who hate London would find this a good spot to strengthen their prejudice.)

It was through his contact Matthew "Monk" Lewis that Scott's translation came to be published in London, on 14 March 1799. That same month he travelled down to London himself, with his newly-pregnant wife Charlotte, for an appointment with her guardian Lord Downshire. During this London visit he was writing a play, The House of Aspen (loosely based on Die heilige Vehme by "Veit Weber" (Leonhard Wächter)), which he hoped would be a success on the London stage. (I have read somewhere that The House of Aspen was once performed and the audience didn't like it, but this isn't the impression given by John Sutherland or by David Hewitt's DNB article, which says Kemble liked it but rejected it for having too much blood.) Anyway, when Scott succeeded in acquiring the post of Selkirkshire sheriff in December 1799 he had to give up thoughts of a London-based literary career and conceive a Scottish one instead: the outcome would be The Minstrelsy, etc.

Scott's translation hasn't been fully digitized but it can be read on Google Books, e.g. here:

https://books.google.co.uk/books?id=Qs1oo21Z82IC&pg=PA445

Goethe's German text:

https://www.gutenberg.org/cache/epub/2321/pg2321.html

I suppose this is Goethe's original version. But later in life Goethe produced a couple of revised versions. The play was admired but it was difficult to stage. Goethe wrote the action as he imagined it, with no concessions to practicality. The characters are frequently described as on horseback, galloping hither and thither. In another scene the hero's besieged followers take the lead out of window frames, melt it down and cast bullets. A director could find ways round this, no doubt. More intransigent is Goethe's restless cutting from one pictorial scene to another, often in very short order. It cries out to be filmed, really.

Scott cut bits of it, for instance the beginning of Act II, with Liebetraut's song and the game of chess. Also the play's best-known line, when Goetz is hurling defiance at the besiegers: You can lick my arse! The scene divisions in the German text differ from Scott's, but both versions tend to bundle multiple switches of locale into single scenes.

Whatever, Scott's translation is excellent reading, in my opinion. Though doubtless if you're comfortable reading German then Goethe's original is better.

The Historical Novel. . . I've claimed (probably too airily) that for the "novel" aspect, i.e. the form, we should look to Ann Radcliffe as Scott's chief model. But for the "historical" element i.e. the content, Scott's exposure to German dramas like this was surely formative: here he saw history becoming thrilling narrative in the hands of modern writers.

History of a sort, anyway; Goethe based his play on Götz's autobiography, loosely (he wrote the play in just two weeks*). But, for instance, Götz's death is shown as following his capture for involvement in the German Peasants' War of 1525: in fact, Götz died in 1562, in his eighties. He was pardoned for his involvement and served the new Emperor Charles V. It was true that he had played some part in leading the insurgent peasants (reluctantly, he said), but he later fought against them: his forces killed 8,000 peasants at the second battle of Würzburg.

[* According to one account. But I've also read that Goethe wrote a first draft in 1771 and completed it in 1773.]

At the end of the play, his brother-in-law Franz von Seckingen is one of the few survivors of Götz's party (along with the latecomer Lerse). This was Franz von Sickingen, but in reality he had died before the Peasants' War took place, in the wake of his own failed revolt in 1523 (the Poor Knights' revolt). (He wasn't Götz's brother-in-law either.)

Götz's nemesis in the play, his childhood friend turned enemy, is Adelbert von Weislingen. Goethe invented him, as far as I can see. And he also invented the court temptress, Adelheid von Walldorf ("Adela" in Scott's translation), who ensures Adelbert's treachery stays on track.

Götz is the central character, but he's usually seen in ensemble scenes; a naive, unreflective man who's most himself at the heart of a community of friends or family. Often, as in the scene I've quoted, he's content to play second fiddle to another character. It's Weislingen and Adela who have the soliloquies, not Götz.

He's a sort of idealist of the status quo, believing in his own idea of a traditional society, hostile to his time's relentless shift towards centralization and aggregated power. He's loyal to the Emperor, but not to the ambitious princes and churchmen who are forming alliances and who seek to stifle the chaotic independence of semi-outlaw knights like Götz. His traditional lifestyle is after all a marauding one, dependent on robbery and violence. He reserves the right to partake in long-running feuds. He is generous, he can do wonderful things for the ordinary common people who sue for his aid. The aged Emperor loves his spirit and loyalty, but the amoral, murky power-brokers detest him because they can't control him or buy him. In the end it's his popularity that's his downfall; horrified at the atrocities of the insurgent peasants, he allows himself to be appointed their leader, thinking that their love for him is the only thing that can moderate their excesses. But it doesn't; the hardline revolutionaries are really only using him. And meanwhile his involvement with the peasant rebellion gives his inveterate enemies the pretext to finally destroy him. It's a tragedy of refusing to cooperate with the tides of history.

It would become one of Scott's grand themes: the conflict between systems of values, the old and the new. But in Scott the outcome wouldn't be tragic but philosophical: an accommodation with the real benefits of the new, combined with honouring of the old; a wistful sense of what has been lost, but also an optimistic belief in the progress of society and in the vigour of what still persists.

A brief outline (I'm using Scott's forms of the names here). But this outline doesn't fully represent the vast cast of characters and range of settings.

ACT I

Goetz and his followers, acting against the Bishop of Bamberg, manage to capture his agent Weislingen. Weislingen, taken to Goetz' home at Jaxthausen, is at first hostile but thaws when confronted by Goetz' celebration of their former friendship, his open-hearted forgiveness, the simple virtues of his home, his little son Charles, etc. Weislingen determines to give up his court machinations, and is soon rewarded by winning the heart of Goetz' young sister Maria. But the Act ends with Weislingen's follower Francis determined to win his master back to the other side.

ACT II

The seductive widow Adela works with the Bishop to re-entrap Weislingen on his return to court (supposedly to tie up a few loose ends). The weak-willed, shifty Weislingen is soon reeled in. In the mean time Goetz has been to a village wedding and relieved some merchants of Nuremberg of their wealth. He sends George with a message to Weislingen; his cold reception confirms what Goetz has been unwilling to accept, that Weislingen has switched sides again. ("I see it well – Your reconciliation was too speedy to be lasting," says Hans von Selbiss.)

ACT III

On Weislingen's advice the Emperor reluctantly allows force to be brought against Goetz for his latest outrage. Goetz musters his smaller band and they win some partial victories, but in the end are besieged in Goetz' castle by far superior forces. One stalwart comrade, Selbiss, dies of his wounds. Goetz has sent away another, his new brother-in law Seckingen, to ensure Maria's safety (Seckingen married her on the rebound after Weislingen's betrayal). Goetz still has Lerse and George with him, but defeat is inevitable.

ACT IV

Goetz, having been captured, has to attend the authorities at Heilbron. They treat him arrogantly, want him to sign away his rights, and will make no promises about his imprisoned followers. Goetz refuses but seems to have few options, until Seckingen and his band ride in, turning the tables. Goetz is now able to extricate himself, making only the concession that he'll live quietly at home. Despite his rescue, Goetz feels the set of the tide against him. He starts to write his autobiography, but feels confined without any outlet for his marauding energies. Meanwhile the relationship between Weislingen and Adela starts to fracture; he's jealous of her patent pursuit of the future Emperor Charles.

ACT V

The peasant insurgents and their unfettered violence. Goetz reluctantly agrees to lead them for four weeks. Goetz' wise wife Elizabeth sadly foresees the outcome. Goetz, soon rejected by the peasants but pursued by the authorities, badly wounded and alone, finally ends up being cared for by the gypsies. (Somewhere in the preceding chaos Goetz kills Metzler, the most sadistic of the insurgents.) But the gypsies cannot prevent his capture. Meanwhile Adela, who's now done with Weislingen, arranges to poison him. Maria (remembering their old love) goes to Weislingen and pleads successfully for Goetz' death warrant to be rescinded. Weislingen yields, but it's his last act; his wife's poison is in his veins (administered by Francis, who has been sleeping with her). A dramatic scene shows the Secret Tribunal condemning Adela to death. (This is the Vehme, which Scott later introduced into his novel Anne of Geierstein.) Goetz, in prison, learns of the death of his beloved George. Goetz asks Lerse to look after his widow Elizabeth, and dies of his wounds, surrounded by his grieving family.

Adelheid von Walldorf (Jasmin Wagner) and Adelbert von Weislingen (Marco Albrecht)

[Image source: https://burgfestspiele-jagsthausen.de/burgfestspiele/galerien-und-videos/nggallery/inszenierungen-2015/goetz-von-berlichingen . From the Burgfestspiele Jagsthausen 2015 production, directed by Peter Dehler.]

Adelheid von Walldorf ("Adela" in Scott) is one of the most arresting characters. I should think you could act her in very different ways. But she is, whatever else, a brilliant operator, a performer who knows every trick.

Enter Weislingen.
Weislingen. You are not well, gracious Lady!
Adela. That is indifferent to you – You leave us, leave us for ever: why do you ask whether we live or die?
Weislingen. You do not know me.
Adela. I judge you by your actions.
Weislingen. Appearances are deceitful.
Adela. Then are you a cameleon.
Weislingen. Could you see my heart –
Adela. I should see fine things there.
Weislingen. Surely! – Your own image –
Adela. Thrust into some corner, like an old family picture! I beseech you, Weislingen, consider with whom you speak – Fair words are a foul insult when they are belied by actions – A discovered masquerader plays but a pitiful part. Your deeds tell us how to think of you.
Weislingen. Be it as you will – I am so agonized at reflecting on what I am, that I little reck what the world thinks me.
Adela. You came to take farewell.
Weislingen. Permit me to kiss your hand, and I will say adieu! You clear up – I did not think – But I am troublesome –
Adela. I only wished to assist your resolution. – Then you will away?
Weislingen. O say rather, I must. Am I not compelled by my knightly word – my solemn engagement?
Adela. Go! go! Talk of that to some forsaken damsel whose Corydon has proved forsworn. – Knightly word! – Nonsense!
Weislingen. You do not think so?
Adela. On my honour, you deceive yourself. What have you promised? and to whom? You have pledged your alliance to a traitor to the Emperor, at the very moment when he incurred the ban of the Empire for kidnapping you upon the Imperial high-road. Such an agreement is no more binding than an extorted unjust oath. Every child knows what faith is to be kept with robbers – And there is more behind – By this oath you are to become an enemy to the peace of the Empire – a disturber of domestic happiness and tranquillity – a rebel to the Emperor – the associate of robbers and marauders – of Goetz of Berlichingen, Frank of Seckingen, and Hans of Selbiss; men with hearts hard as the steel of their blades – With these freebooters canst thou have aught in common? – thou, Weislingen, with thy gentle temper!
Weislingen. Did you but know them –
Adela. I would Justice knew that Goetz. He has a high domineering soul – and woe to thee therefore, Weislingen! – Go, and try to be his companion – Go, and receive his commands – Thou art mild, gentle –
Weislingen. And he too –
Adela. But you are yielding, and he stubborn. Soon will he drive thee from thy own opinion. Thou wilt become the slave of a marauding baron, thou that mayst command princes! – 'T were a pity to dissuade you from so glorious a situation.
Weislingen. Did you but know how kindly he received me –
Adela. Gentle soul! – Think you so much of that? It was his duty as a knight – And what would he have gained by acting otherwise – or what wouldst thou have lost? – You would have been but the more welcome here. An overbearing man like –
Weislingen. You speak of your enemy.
Adela. I speak for your freedom . . .

(from Act II)

"Enchantress!" So a dragged-kicking-and-screaming Weislingen describes her. Yes, she's powerfully seductive, she knows how to deal in small favours: we see what she does to the besotted Franz ("Francis"). But she's much more than that, too.

She is Goetz' most dangerous enemy, though she doesn't know him personally and he's barely aware of her existence. Adelheid would never leave the court, and Goetz would never go there, so they don't meet.

In the new political world, the most dangerous enemies are the ones you don't know anything about. They are your enemies not because they hate you or because you've done them an ill service (the basis of Goetz' knightly feuds), but simply because they're players and it's in their interest to destroy you.

Adelheid is a strong, independent and resolute woman. She's aware that her power depends crucially on the freedom of the court environment. When a jealous Weislingen (now her husband) tries to force her home to his castle, he signs his own death warrant.

Adela. He was incensed against me when you parted from him?
Francis. He was as I have never seen him. – To my castle, said he, she must – she shall go.
Adela. And must we obey?
Francis. I know not, dear lady!
Adela. Thou foolish, betrayed boy! thou doest not see where this will end. – Here he knows I am in safety – Long has he envied my freedom. – He desires to have me at his castle – then has he the power to use me as his hate shall dictate.
Francis. He shall not!
Adela. Wilt thou prevent him?
Francis. He shall not!
Adela. I foresee the whole misery of my lot. He will tear me by force from his castle to immure me in a cloister.
Francis. Hell and death!
Adela. Wilt thou rescue me?
Francis. All – all!
Adela [throws herself weeping upon his neck]. Francis! – O rescue us!
Francis. I will tear the heart from his body!
Adela. No violence! – You shall carry a letter to him full of submission and obedience – Then give him this vial in his wine.
Francis. Give it! – Thou shalt be free.
Adela. Free! – And then no more shalt thou need to slip to me trembling and in fear – No more shall I need anxiously to say, »Away, Frank! the morning dawns.«

(from Act V)

Does she have any principles, any feelings at all? Apparently she does, she isn't cold, the feeling isn't all fake and maybe that's why it's so irresistible. She really does feel something for the addled worshipper Francis. Is there a kind of suppressed maternal feeling there? Is she reaching for some kind of natural realization that, given who she is, she will never realize? Or is it just an emotional spring-cleaning, clearing the decks for her next move?

It's strange to read these Adela scenes in Scott's words. It was a kind of woman character he never came close to in his own fictions. The nearest, I suppose, are the Queens Elizabeth and Mary (Kenilworth and The Abbot respectively); they have the intelligence and a bit of the skill, but nothing like this level of sexuality and ruthlessness.

"Sir Walter Scott and Goethe". An 1829 article in the Athenaeum, with some interesting insights. For this reviewer, both the modern authors are in different ways less than they should be: Shakespeare has all their qualities and more. The article was prompted by the publication of Anne of Geierstein, its author being seen to resume his early interest in matters Germanic:

https://www.google.co.uk/books/edition/The_Athenaeum/f96oPyGqPOgC?hl=en&gbpv=1&dq=athenaeum+goethe+scott+%22geierstein%22+1829&pg=PA329&printsec=frontcover