Crugantino, a scapegrace, with a noble heart, who,
finding the ordinary bonds of society too confined for him, has taken
to highway robbery. "Your burgher life," he says--and we know that he
is here uttering Goethe's own sentiments--"your burgher life is to me
intolerable. There, whether I give myself to work or enjoyment,
slavery is my lot. Is it not a better choice for one of decent merit
to plunge into the world? Pardon me! I don't give a ready ear to the
opinion of other people, but pardon me if I let you know mine. I will
grant you that if once one takes to a roving life, no goal and no
restraints exist for him; for our heart--ah! it is infinite in its
desires so long as its strength remains to it." Crugantino, who with
his band is housed at a wretched inn in the neighbourhood, catches
sight of Claudine, is bewitched by her beauty, and resolves to gain
possession of her. On a beautiful moonlight night, attended by only
one companion, he makes his adventurous attempt. Of the charivari that
follows it is only necessary to say that Pedro is wounded in a
hand-to-hand encounter by his unknown brother Crugantino, and is
conveyed to the inn where the band have their quarters. And now comes
the turn of Claudine to show her disregard of conventionalities. In
agonies for her wounded lover, she dons male attire, and in the middle
of the night sets out for the inn where he is lying. She encounters
Crugantino at the door, and their dialogue is overheard by the wounded
Pedro who rushes forth to rescue her. A duel ensues between Pedro and
Crugantino; the watch appears, and all parties are conveyed to the
village prison. Here they are found by the distracted father and his
friend Sebastian, and a general explanation follows--Pedro being made
secure of Claudine, and Crugantino showing himself a repentant sinner.
With this fantastic production, which, beginning in an atmosphere of
pure sentiment, ends in broad farce, Goethe was even in middle life so
satisfied that he recast it in verse, and made other alterations which
in the opinion of most critics did not improve the original.[210]

[Footnote 210: During his residence in Rome in 1787. He recast _Erwin
und Elmire_ at the same time.]

The triviality of these successive performances, so void of the mind
and heart displayed in the fragmentary _Prometheus_ and _Der Ewige
Jude_, have their commentary in his continued relations to Lili
Schoenemann. They even raise the question whether