the tragic can only exist where there are rivers of blood; neither will I censure it, but only call attention to the fact that in my opinion that which makes a tragedy lies only in the struggle of the individual, never in the outcome of this struggle.  The outcome is in the hands of the gods, says an old proverb, well then, acts of the gods—­as events may very well be called which are the effects of fate—­can never be anything else for the dramatic poet than what curtain and wings are for the stage; they limit without completing.  I defined drama, above, as a representation of the thought which seeks to become a deed through action or suffering.  What this thought may be like—­upon that very little depends; but that it really should be there, that it should fill the entire man, so much, of a surety, is necessary.  What is, then, the thought that, in the play under discussion, fills the soul of the Prince oL Homburg, the chief hero?  We find it expressed in scene two of the second act, in the place where the Prince says to Kottwitz, who reminds him, the man thirsting for deeds, of the Elector’s orders: 

  “Orders?  Eh, Kottwitz, do you ride so slow? 
   Have you not heard the orders of your heart?”

The thought is this:  strength stands above the law, and courage recognizes no other barrier but itself.  Kleist, in the fifth scene of the first act, with which the fifth scene of the fifth act corresponds, appears to have taken pains to set up as the lever of the piece, not so much this thought as rather a mere accident, namely the inattention of the Prince when the plan of battle was being dictated, but it is really only in appearance.  For though he makes Hohenzollern, properly enough, lay great stress on this circumstance, that signifies little; only if the Prince himself—­a thing which never happens—­had laid stress upon it, could it have had an influence on the economy of the piece.  Let us proceed to a more detailed development of the tragedy.

The historical part of it is based on the famous battle which the Elector Frederick William of Brandenburg fought against the Swedes at Fehrbellin.  The story of the play is briefly as follows:  The Prince of Homburg, to whom has been confided the commandment of the cavalry of the Mark of Brandenburg, arbitrarily disobeys the orders given him, and advances too soon.  He wins the battle, but is placed on trial before a court martial by Frederick William and condemned to death for insubordination.

And truly—­I should add, if I did not know that poetic enthusiasm is very ridiculous in a criticism—­the action is brought before us with such power that this tragedy may very well be compared to a German oak, on which every branch flourishes luxuriantly, and whose summit is nearer to heaven than to earth.  The whole play contains nothing but characters, not a single puppet—­which can seldom be said of the work of even the greatest master—­and I regret that I can develop in detail only the character of the Prince of Homburg, and, for the others, can merely touch upon those sides which come into contact with him.