exclamation 'My Mother!' told the tale of his thoughts. But the mood of
sadness did not last long. Cheerful talk enlivened the journey, and when
the two travellers crossed the boundary of the Palatinate Schiller was
jubilant. He felt that he had entered a land of freedom and
enlightenment, where art was esteemed and talent honored.

He had with him, virtually complete, the manuscript of the new play upon
which he had built illusory hopes. It will be in order to consider
'Fiesco' before we follow its author into the vicissitudes of his exile.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 30: The somewhat conflicting data are subjected to a critical
scrutiny by Weltrich, I, 323 ff.]

[Footnote 31: Bulthaupt, I, 210, quotes from Pichler's history of the
Mannheim theater the following account by an eye-witness; 'The theater
was like a mad-house,--rolling eyes, clenched fists, stamping feet and
hoarse shrieks from the spectators. Strangers fell sobbing into each
other's arms, and women staggered to the door at the point of fainting.
There was a general dissolution, as in chaos, from the mists of which a
new creation bursts forth.' This description is perhaps the best
possible antidote to Matthew Arnold's fastidious observation that 'The
Robbers' is violent and tiresome.]

[Footnote 32: In a letter of Dec. 12, 1781, to Dalberg, he admits the
cogency of the objection to his horde of robbers 'in our enlightened
century' and virtually expresses regret that he had not himself, from
the beginning, imagined an earlier date for the action. But he fears
that to change the time, now that the piece is finished, will result in