Goethe’s Early Historical Dramas

Abstract

In this essay, Goethe’s early historical plays, Götz von Berlichingen, published in 1773, and Egmont, published only in 1787, are compared. So far, scholarly work has not recognized enough of the differences between both works. Goethe’s intellectual development from the young Storm and Stress writer of Götz to the publication of Egmont fourteen years later has not been considered sufficiently. Goethe’s development is clearly reflected in his protagonists’ deeds and intentions. Goethe’s Götz fights predominantly for his own rights and his family. Egmont aims higher; he is more concerned with the welfare state of society and reflects on political issues Götz is unable to consider. Moreover, Goethe takes, in both cases, poetic license to create a different picture of his protagonists’ failures than historical sources provide. This finally leads to the introduction of the term preclassic to differentiate between Götz and Egmont.

From Götz to Egmont

1. Preliminary Considerations

Goethe’s historical dramas Götz von Berlichingen and Egmont both focus on proven war heroes of the 16th century. The revised completion of the first drama in 1773 and the first draft of the second—Egmont—either in 1774 or 1775 lie close together.1 Even today, both works, both heroes Götz and Egmont, are all too readily and all too often mentioned in the same breath because of their extraordinary nature and attributed to the Storm and Stress era.2 But does this not mean that we recklessly abandon a differentiated view? Both figures are historically well known, but this is where the similarity ends, for it is unmistakable that Goethe’s historical, thematic design could not be more different without the author, however, allowing this perception to be snatched from him by a first cursory glance. Perhaps for this reason, Ebrahim Estarami quotes Friedrich Meinecke’s widely known and often translated treatise on historicism from 1936 in his doctoral thesis Selbsthelfer in Zeiten des Umbruchs (Self-helpers in times of upheaval), in which the latter makes the statement about both works that both Goethe’s Götz and Egmont are plays that depict the struggle of naturally strong and genuine humanity against humanity that is of lesser value but is allowed to triumph (Estarami 2005, p. 29). However, this statement, as simple and seductive as it may seem at first glance, should be questioned. Did Goethe, as a person and writer, not undergo any development between the years 1771, the completion of the first version of Götz, and the famous sentence of September 5, 1787, in Rome ‘… Egmont […] was completely finished early…’3? Do both dramas, in effect, deal with the same subject? Can we also be satisfied with such a generalizing view in terms of drama theory and Goethe’s view of history, and are his heroes Götz and Egmont flawless characters? What does it mean to set off ‘… strong and genuine humanity against a humanity that is less valuable…’ (Meinecke 1936, p. 496), as Meinecke suggests, can such a distinction be made at all with regard to Goethe’s characters? Is the regent in Egmont less valuable than the hero himself? Did Goethe not write a first version and a second version of Götz, and can we not see from a simple comparison of the first scene that even in the first version, the individual sentences of the characters are more static assertions, narrative reports, not tied to individual characters and certainly not speeches that directly translate action or can be translated into action? The second version is quite different: here, almost every appearance of a character is always linked to an action or an intention to act; mere reasoning is almost completely banned. Based on such a simple assertion, should we not also speak of a necessary further development of the dramatic conception from Götz to Egmont? Certainly, there are many indications that Goethe’s first preoccupation with the Egmont problem between 1773 and 1775 in Frankfurt is to be seen in direct connection with the Götz play (Hartmann 1988, p. 14; see also Schröder 1994, p. 51; Goethe 1948), but more than a decade passes before its completion in 1787, Goethe meanwhile lives in Weimar and travels to Italy. Does the mature cosmopolitan Goethe not present us with a different view through his tragedy than the youthful Sturm und Drang, author of Götz? Is it not an inadmissible scholarly superficiality to describe Egmont as an inadequate poetic latecomer to Götz, as Staiger suggests?4 Again, a recent Goethe biography, hot off the press, following in the footsteps of his predecessors points out that Götz and Egmont are very similar—fallen out of time—characters. As a matter of fact, Steinfeld even calls into question whether Storm and Stress as a literary epoch exist at all. In contrast, this article will clarify that Götz clearly can be assigned to the Storm and Stress period while Egmont needs its own evaluation. Both characters act under different premises, following different individual moral principles and ideas.

2. Götz and Egmont

Of course, there are similarities between Götz and Egmont at first glance. Goethe’s heroes act in accordance with their time, are full of heroic energy and vitality, and are less children of the Enlightenment than Schiller’s Marquis de Posa in Don Carlos, for example.5 However, in order to understand them effectively, one must distance oneself from the idea that Goethe had a completely unbroken relationship with his protagonists6 and to historical events of the past. Does he not himself complain in his autobiographical work Dichtung und Wahrheit (Poetry and Truth) that critics have accused him of wanting to reintroduce those irregular periods of Faustian law,7 as if he were pleading with his knees to maintain a critical distance from his feud-tested hero, and does he not write clearly enough elsewhere? ‘…The author, however, who by his nature must be and remain impartial, seeks to penetrate the states of both fighting parts, where then, if mediation becomes impossible, he must resolve to end tragically.’8 Goethe may also remark that he is dramatizing the story of one of the noblest Germans, saving the memory of a good man,9 but his Götz is not only the story of a wild journeyman incessantly entangled in feuds, although the right to feud had actually been abolished by the Imperial Diet of 1495 as an instrument of self-help through the establishment of the Imperial Chamber Court, but is also only occasionally biographically oriented towards real historical events. How else could the knight’s violent end in the drama be interpreted10, caused by incessant feuds and the Peasants’ War, which he survived in reality? Götz’s end is tragic precisely because Goethe is completely familiar with the conditions of the two fighting parties. Goethe already plays masterfully with fact and fiction here, without immediately revealing his secret to us, because the feud is historically abolished by Emperor Maximilian I of all people, the only one to whom Götz feels subservient in the drama. ‘…Before Your Imperial Majesty, as always, I have the utmost respect’,11 he says and yet acts as if there were no public peace in place, which is not even mentioned in the drama. Just as we immediately perceive an ambivalence here with regard to the relationship between historical event and dramatic realization, because in Goethe’s drama, the hero at least verbally supports the very person who historically deprives him of the right to feud, it is advisable to take a look at further differences between the historical models and the poetic realization in both works, because only such an examination will clarify what a fractured relationship Goethe himself must have had to history, the dramatic realization and his own historically heroic figures.

Should we not ask further questions? Should Goethe’s own development not become apparent precisely through the comparison of the two protagonists? For the Götz in the play, who is still entirely an individual, constantly involved in disputes and quarrels, the actual cause of a dispute or, more precisely, a feud, seems to be only a secondary matter—as he writes in his biography; the main reason and underpinning his chivalric self-image is the violent conflict itself, for only this makes him what he is, a feared, admired, stubborn knight. As already mentioned, he only wants to be subservient to his Emperor Maximilian I. All others who stand in his way or contradict him are fought and, if necessary, defeated. He struggles almost exclusively for his own personal advantage. Although he tries to win over certain feared opponents such as Weislingen, to his side, ideas that affect the general public, the big picture, hardly play a role in his life. In this respect, Jürgen Schröder’s statements also need to be scrutinized. Schröder claims that Goethe’s Götz replaced the old corporative state with the vision of a democratic, fraternal, and monarchical people’s and unitary state.12 In Goethe’s work, for example, Götz only wants to fight for the peasants’ cause out of necessity; this is evident in both versions. What the peasants are actually fighting for in their struggle and with their twelve articles plays no role in this play. The peasants’ commitment to equality, ultimately to democratic ideas and freedom,13 is not even perceived by Götz in the drama; he is only concerned with the feuds appropriate to his social status. In this respect, Goethe is very close to the descriptions of the life of the knight Götz von Berlichingen because here it is often simply a matter of brawling and arguing, even with the peasants, who are not held in very high esteem by the historical Götz and are beaten up severely (von Berlichingen 1998, p. 23).14 The peasants’ moral aspirations to change social conditions in their favor are hardly worth a serious line, neither to the historical knight Götz nor to Goethe. If it were not for Brother Martin, who links Götz with characteristics of a fighter for the poor right at the beginning of the drama by commenting on his chivalrous attitude and thanks God that he has let himself see ‘… this man whom the princes hate and to whom the oppressed turn!’15, the legitimacy, the moral cause of his actions would remain highly doubtful, as in the life descriptions of the knight himself. Only occasionally do we find references in this work to Götz helping the poor. For example, when the knight points out that he wanted to help the tailor and excellent rifle shooter Hans Sindelfinger from Stuttgart to get his prize for a good shot. In his biography, Götz writes, ‘… the people of Cologne had cheated him out of it and did not want to pay it to him’ (von Berlichingen 1998, p. 36).16 Götz helps the tailor, and a settlement is finally reached between him and the city of Cologne, but he does not tell us whether Sindelfinger received his hundred guilders. Goethe does not have this Götz appear directly in his drama; we only know of this action through the account of his wife, Elisabeth. If we judge according to her, Götz defeated the people of Cologne and helped the tailor to his rights,17 Press remarks about the historical Götz: ‘Berlichingen’s successes in his feuds […] signaled to the nobility that even under changed conditions he was not to be thrown in the scrap heap—just as one must generally see the function of the feud in the fact that it underlined the military qualifications of the individual nobleman’.18 This point of view has to be taken into account; with all the wars and feuds that Götz depicts in his biography, the rightfulness or wrongfulness of this violent conflict is not disputed. It is an end in itself, assuring the knighthood of its defensibility and supremacy.19 Brother Martin’s commentary and his wife Elisabeth’s report also give Götz moral legitimacy in the drama, but without it being translated into dramatic action. From the outset, Goethe gives his hero the character of a fighter for the poor and the unjustly accused or robbed. The historical Götz of the Middle Ages does not yet have to legitimize his attitude so clearly; he acts successfully within the social system of the corporative state as a knight, and the fact that he helps the poor in the process is incidental and happens in passing.

Even the idea championed by Schröder above, that Goethe’s Götz is a monarchist and loyal supporter of Maximilian I, should be considered in a differentiated way. In both versions of Götz, the emperor confronts Götz’s adversary, Weislingen, after merchants from Nuremberg have complained to him that Götz is involved in a feud with Nuremberg and has robbed them.20 In the ensuing drama, Weislingen suggests to the emperor that Sickingen, Selbitz, and Berlichingen should be sidelined, and is it not, in fact, Emperor Maximilian I himself who, at the Imperial Diet in 1495, abolishes the right to feud as an instrument of self-help, which has been enshrined in law since 1235, by establishing the Chamber Court?21 A right to which both the historical Götz and Goethe’s Götz clung for as long as possible with all the means at their disposal. Can Weislingen’s suggestion not be symbolically upgraded and understood as a metaphorical reference to the new forces that seek to overcome the older, more primitive, violent, outdated, imperial-knightly structures through the new Imperial Chamber Court? All the more so since the young Goethe actually worked at the Imperial Chamber Court in Wetzlar.22 Although the emperor insists in the play that the noble and brave knights are dear to him, he does want to keep them quiet.23 The reflective dramatist’s relationship with his hero is not unbroken. Möser may have sung the praises of this still entirely medieval right of the knight in 1770, a work well-known to Goethe24 von dem Faustrechte (on the right to private warfare), but the ‘… Times of first law in Germany seem to me to have always been those in which our nation showed the greatest sense of honor, the most physical virtue, and national greatness of its own,’25, Goethe’s Götz appears to be an honest and faithful fighter for his rights and the poor, but he can hardly be described as a hero who fights for ideas that go beyond his personal rights to freedom as a knight. He is no Robin Hood who seeks to bring justice to the oppressed peasants, for Goethe portrays the peasants as a savage and brutally murderous mob, which Götz does not serve entirely voluntarily. Goethe’s Götz is worn down by the constant conflict between the different classes. He does not want to give up his ancestral right to feud, thereby disturbing the peace in the country desired by the emperor and acting in contradiction to the resolutions of the medieval Imperial Diet, but the play’s Götz is not a social revolutionary who wholeheartedly supports the cause of the peasants.

As already indicated, Goethe has his hero die by violence during or as a result of the Peasants’ War, in complete contrast to the historical facts, as he does not die until 1562 at the age of 82.26 The historical Götz is a much cleverer and negotiating knight than Goethe presents him to us as being. After the defeat of the peasants and the execution of some of their ringleaders, for example, he writes a defense to play down his commitment to their cause and get himself out of the line of fire. Without his intervention, he reveals, “hardly a house ‘…In diocese, Mainz […] would still stand unburnt, whereby perhaps some citizens would lose their lives (Ulmschneider 1980, p. 20). The historical Götz also later fought in the Turkish War of 1542 and took part in the campaign in France in 1544 after the resolution of his oath of truce at the instigation of some friendly counts.27 Although Goethe’s Götz fulfills all the prerequisites for coming close to Möser’s ideal type of knight who is accustomed to medieval feudal law and bursting with virility. Still, he does not act as intelligently as the historical Götz in weathering all political storms and general state goals, or acting for the welfare of an entire nation, as Egmont does, is not his concern at all. In the drama, Götz acts in part, as Preuss states, based on historical facts similar to Götz’s ‘brother-in-law’ Franz von Sickingen. ‘Franz von Sickingen’s egotistical excessiveness of his goals must have caused offense in the long run, even among his peers—Berlichingen acted more prudently here, perhaps he better embodied the goals and desires, the way of thinking and acting of the nobility. Sickingen ultimately overstepped his bounds and failed,’28 In difference; there is not much evidence of Götz’s prudence in the play. His attempts to win Weislingen over to his side remain unsuccessful because he acts and thinks far too naively and too convinced of his own personality and inexperience in court intrigue; he wants to give Weislingen his sister Maria as his wife, trusting him unreservedly. ‘Shake hands, and I will say amen’29 Goethe’s intention, as one could easily interpret it with Meinecke in this case, is not accustomed to singing the praises of honest, undisguised humanity in terms of underhandedness and rank intrigue. However, it can be pointed out that Götz first has to kidnap Weislingen in order to show his honest, undisguised humanity and achieve his goal. Is it then even possible to speak of honest humanity? Parallels can be drawn here with Egmont. Is this willing naivety, which immediately gives its heart away, not—as in Egmont—drawn with such a thick pen stroke that failure is inscribed in it?

In Egmont, Goethe has created a figure, a count who dies for an idea and dedicates his life to the fight against despotism and tyranny. This character does not primarily fight for his own rights like the historical Götz. Egmont tells Alba about the fear of the Dutch and adds questioningly, ‘…who will vouch for their freedom?30 The dramatized Egmont has much more in mind than Götz in terms of ideas concerning the common good—the internal order of the country—only dealt with in passing in Götz during the Emperor’s single appearance—is the main driving force behind all the actions of the main characters in Egmont. There is not just one book on the theory of the state in Goethe’s library in Weimar, and certainly, one of the main figures in the play In the Service of the Regent is Machiavelli, for Machiavelli’s ‘Disputationum de Republica quas Discursus’ can be found in a prominent place in Goethe’s library (Machiavelli 1643). This work by this political mastermind, philosopher, historian, and thinker deals with a republican constitution. Indeed, Goethe’s Machiavelli is a rhetorician with all the diplomatic skills31, very close to his historical Italian role model, who knows how to adopt the attitude of the oppressed Dutch and thus almost succeeds in deceiving the regent Margaret of Parma herself. ‘You are taking the side of your opponents’, she asks, a little confused by her political advisor’s fearful change of heart, and Machiavelli replies in the manner of the historical Machiavelli, ‘certainly not with my heart; and I wish I could be completely on our side with my mind’.32 Machiavelli argues with the regent about the welfare of the Dutch states, showing a moderate, republican attitude sympathetic to the Dutch, a wise attitude that takes into account the human desire for independence and the free practice of religion.33 ‘You do not need to suppress the new doctrine’34, Machiavelli, although himself a Catholic, advises the regent that any other means would devastate the country. Such a wise, well-considered attitude can also be found in Goethe’s source. The state must mediate between the people’s excessive desire for freedom and the great ones’ desire for rule; otherwise, ‘…tyranny would immediately follow’ (Machiavelli 1941b, p. 57). Machiavelli thus sees tyranny as a great evil and misfortune. An attitude that the regent’s successor, the despotic Duke Alba, completely lacks. Alba also wants to and should punish the iconoclasts, as wished by the Spanish King Phillip II, put the people ‘in their place’ and subjugate the Dutch (Hartmann 1988, p. 21). The antagonists that Goethe juxtaposes with his Egmont, therefore, have completely different political abilities from the outset than Weislingen in Götz; even if Alba establishes a tyrannical reign of terror and completely lacks Machiavelli’s political cleverness, he still knows how to intellectually manage the establishment of such a reign. Weislingen is only aiming for personal advantage and is guided by his feelings: Political foresight? Insight into the inner workings of a state? No thought that he would be able to deal with this, or at most only try to impress Emperor Maximilian and get rid of his opponents.35 After all, he has broken his word to Götz, and one can ask whether he is not only accusing Götz and his followers out of unacknowledged feelings of guilt. ‘… it is they whose spirit animates the rebellious crowd…’36, he tells the emperor. Motives of revenge for the capture by Götz may be responsible for this attribution of blame. Machiavelli and Alba do not act as dependent on their personal feelings, as can be interpreted in the case of Weislingen.

3. The Constitutional Question

If one goes one step further and asks about the political maturity of the people in both dramas, one realizes that even the people, the citizens, even if they do not have the best reputation among their peers, dare to question the right of a ruler, as Vansen does in Egmont37, and obviously not without good reason. Instead, in Götz, either the pure admiration of the great man by the people and the clergy takes the place of this independent thinking, for example, when the monk Martin says after a conversation with the knight himself: ‘It is a pleasure to see a great man’38, or the direct, contentious confrontation with the knight through a feud. In Egmont, the citizens want freedom, privileges, and their constitution39, but such ideas are hardly present in Götz. However, it is significant that the scribe, Vansen, is the only one in Egmont who openly speaks of sedition and refers to the Constitution. As a scribe, he also knows about the constitution more by chance than through conscious discussion, while the citizens in the tragedy only have a rough idea that the Netherlands had one—but this makes his rebellious attitude psychologically understandable, as he is well aware of the guaranteed rights.40 At the same time, however, he is aware of the danger Count Egmont is in through Alba and knows from conversations that the citizens of Brussels are not at all prepared to risk their lives lightly for an abstract idea such as freedom. ‘… if one has only the daily bread’,41 says the Brussels Soest and Soapboiler even slaps Vansen when his views sound too seditious. The fact that other citizens then defend Vansen as a man of honor and a scholar makes it clear that the citizens of Brussels are divided. ~They discuss their rights, the constitution, and privileges.42 ‘Doesn’t the citizen of Brussels have a different right than the citizens of Antwerp? The citizen of Antwerp than the citizen of Ghent?’43, asks Vansen. Such theoretical liberal debates about the personal individual rights of each person at the state level are not yet to be found in Goethe’s Götz, despite the twelve articles of the peasants, which are precisely about this freedom. It is significant that they are not mentioned at all in the play. An educated, self-confident bourgeois figure like Vansen has no equivalent in Götz. Although Hippler is praised in the biographies of Götz and in the history books as a scribe working on a constitution and was therefore known to Goethe, he still refrains from including such a figure in this work.44 It is the personal relationship that counts. Although Goethe does not always orientate himself on this, as Weislingen and Lerse are not, in fact, historical characters, he often uses this model enough for his work. The friendship and brotherhood in arms between Götz and Selbitz are not only mentioned once in the biographies. Emperor Maximilian’s exclamation after Götz and Selbitz had robbed some Nuremberg merchants in the play ‘Holy God! Holy God! What is this? One has only one hand, the other only one leg; if only they had two hands and two legs, what would you do then?’ finds its equivalent almost word for word in the descriptions of the life of Götz45. However, the design of the fortified, in fact, robber-knight-like male friendship, even if it is at the expense of that of the bourgeois merchants, is not only based on the model, it goes even further in the play because the fictional character Weislingen is made responsible for the declaration of respect against Götz by Selbitz, who claims to have seen him at the Imperial Diet in Augsburg. Now, the two knights immediately plan to attack Weislingen again. This attitude is in keeping with the spirit of the biographies, for when Götz and Selbitz meet there, they are constantly involved in fortified confrontations.46 However, the close bond of friendship and trust between Götz and Selbitz is much more pronounced in the play, as they discuss approaches and attack tactics in speech and counter-speech and have a common enemy in Weislingen, who is breaking his word and needs to be punished for it—something that never happens in the knight’s autobiography.

Questions of constitutional history are still largely ignored in Götz; it is only in Egmont that they become more than an accompanying secondary motif.47 While the citizens of Brussels can discuss the meaning and purpose of the constitution, the peasants in Götz are not accustomed to the written word. ‘Every reverence that a procurator makes you, you must pay for’48, says the bride’s father to Götz at the peasants’ wedding, alluding to a trial he had to conduct, dealing with the written word—which is relatively easy for the citizens of Brussels in Egmont—is still such a precious commodity in Götz that you have to pay for it. It is also significant that this criticism of the legal system is voiced to Götz, who, tragically, hardly understands anything about the modern Roman legal system himself and clings to the old feudal law.49 In this play, the legal scholar only appears in connection with the aristocratic bishop of Bamberg and his abbot, to whom he explains the legal system and complains about the rabble, who understand nothing about it.50 A self-confident, educated crowd that critically scrutinizes everything, as in Egmont, is not yet to be found in Götz.

This is primarily about the figure of the colossally great man in the form of Götz, who seeks to defend his individual rights to freedom.51 Goethe shapes his two main characters in a similar way with poetic freedom. Götz is said to have had ten children, Egmont even eleven, while Goethe allows his Götz just one son, who also enters a monastery, and his Egmont remains completely childless, but Egmont is of a different nature to Götz in Goethe’s drama. The general right, the freedom of an entire people, is clearly close to his heart. Egmont gives good advice to the citizens of Brussels, who want him to rule instead of the Spaniards. ‘Stay at home,’ he says, ‘don’t suffer them to roam the streets. Reasonable people can do much.52 In fact, unlike Götz, who seems to be concerned almost exclusively with finding out whether people are for or against him as a person, Egmont acts with the common good in mind. Goethe’s biographical experiences, his life at the court in Weimar, which gave him profound insights into the sphere of life and power functions of the nobility, as well as drastically demonstrating the dependence of the prince on social circumstances and his own not insignificant role in state life, enabled him to create such a far-sighted hero, no longer entangled in petty feuds and quarrels.53 Of course, Egmont appears under completely different historical conditions than Götz, but Goethe also treats him with poetic freedom more than once. However, it is precisely Egmont’s childlessness and Goethe’s alteration of historical facts that are among the main points of criticism in Schiller’s famous review of the work. Schiller argues that the historical Egmont was forced to stay in Brussels precisely because he had a family with many children to support and did not want to give up his privileges. ‘By taking away his wife and children, the author destroys the whole context of his behavior. He is quite compelled to let this unhappy stay spring from a reckless self-confidence, and thereby greatly diminishes our respect for his hero’s intellect, without compensating him for this loss of heart.’54 This argument, however tempting it may seem at first glance, needs to be examined. Certainly, the historian Schiller is speaking here, calling for an orientation towards historical facts, but is it not precisely Goethe’s intention to show us the tension between individual freedom and reason of state, especially when this is linked to despotic rulership, as in the case of Philip II of Spain? Goethe’s character of Count Egmont gains precisely from the fact that he is young, not plagued by doubts, and can assert his human rights without being hindered by family constraints. Do we not admire his courage, which is certainly a matter of the heart, but also his intellect, his rational reasoning, when he fearlessly answers the henchman of Philip II. Alba, when the latter asked him who was preventing the people from breaking away when goodwill was the only pledge they had? ‘… And is not the goodwill of a people the surest, the noblest pledge?’55 Egmont’s belief that man, the people, is essentially good, which can be seen as naïve in the political world of tyranny, nevertheless leads us to the idea of a free humanity and exposes the inhuman attitude of despotism. Here, in a symbolic or idealized form, the dark, all-watching mind in the figure of Duke Alba, which is overwhelmed by its task and suspects secret dangers and murderous intrigues everywhere, is contrasted with the politically free, open mind in the figure of Egmont. Who better to symbolize this attitude than a youthful, independent mind unburdened by family worries and financial fears? What Schiller characterizes as Egmont’s reckless self-confidence presupposes a belief in the merciless oppression of the people in state life as a natural occurrence; Goethe wants to brand this very action by Alba as unnatural! In addition, the question remains repeatedly to be asked as to how unbroken the author’s relationship to his hero actually is? Is it not Goethe’s intention to present us with a flawless character without fault in the figure of Egmont?

4. Dramaturgical Aspects

There are further trends from Götz to Egmont that cannot be overlooked, at least in terms of dramatical theory. Goethe’s turn from purely static character speech to dynamic composition has already been mentioned in passing.56—Even a simple comparison of the first scene of the first two versions of Götz, the ‘Urgötz’57, which Goethe only published in 1832, and the later one from 1773 shows what is involved. The second rider begins with a lengthy argument: ‘I cannot understand where von Weisling has gone.’58, and then gives a completely plotless and emotionally uninvolved description of how he has traveled and where Weislingen has spent the night; such undramatic epic narrative elements are almost completely omitted or changed in the second version. There we find only: ‘Weislingen has been up at the castle with the Count for two days;’59 This tendency is even more refined in Egmont. There is no longer any character speech without inner emotional involvement, which would have a purely narrative character, and even when Alba and Egmont, the regent, and Machiavelli debate the theory of the State on a high level, these conversations are always conducted at the characters’ immediate inner involvement, because everything they say could cost them their career, their future, their lives. However, even Goethe’s unconditional devotion to anti-classical Shakespeare’s concepts of dramatic structure has long since changed. The unity of place, time, and action, still completely disregarded in Urgötz, is now restricted, at least with regard to the abundance of places and the many actions running alongside each other. In the essay on Shakespeare’s Birthday, while still living in Frankfurt, Goethe clearly expressed his enthusiasm for the dissolution of all forms. ‘…It seemed to me that the unity of the place was so notoriously restrictive, the unity of action and time annoying chains on our imagination.’60 In Weimar and, during his stay in Italy (Figure 1) he changed his attitude. With Egmont, Goethe approaches classical ideals, which he realizes in Iphigenia, for example, with the one neutral place. After all, the place of action is only Brussels in Egmont, and the ‘calming of the revolt’ is central to the plot. Even the time that takes years in Götz can be reduced in Egmont, if not to the orbit of the sun demanded by Aristotle, then at least to a few days, along with the replacement of Margaret of Parma by Alba.

There are further lines of development in addition to these structural ones. Both heroes are initially convinced of their ‘invulnerability’. Götz exclaims belligerently that if the mayor of Nuremberg were to come close to him, he should be astonished despite all his wit61, and Egmont believes in his heart that if the Spaniards wanted to assassinate his life, a terrible covenant would unite the people in an instant to save him.62 These convictions, as well as the undeniable fact that as aristocratic landlords, they have the necessary classical Aristotelian height of fall to stir the people of the 18th and 19th centuries, allow us to speak initially of certain drama-theoretical similarities, but while Götz threatened by hostility, has to fight for almost every single follower63, the hearts of the Dutch just fly to Egmont.64 At the first moment of his appearance on stage, Count Egmont is still a sovereign ruler, generously helpful, mild, and inclined to mercy,65 while Götz lies in wait to capture one of his opponents, Weislingen. Goethe’s Götz is a knight entangled in a feud from the start: ‘Five days and nights already lying in wait. The little bit of life and freedom is made sour. But if I have you, Weislingen, I can relax.’66 This warlike attitude can already be found in the knight’s own descriptions of his life (von Berlichingen 1998, p. 40). Goethe’s Götz is not fighting against an external enemy like Egmont, who is wrestling with the Spaniards but is unanimously supported by his fellow countrymen. Götz’s situation is more difficult; he has various enemies within the country but remains courageous and self-confident. Nevertheless, both are heroes in the classic sense! Egmont is also unfamiliar with fickleness, considering his own safety and even fear of Alba, as is the case with Orania67. When Alba has him imprisoned, he is surprised and acts like a naïve hero, completely oblivious to court intrigue.68 He does not trust the Spanish royal family to see his benevolent criticism of possible oppressive tendencies as rebellion. It is historically documented that the Spanish royal family reinstated Egmont’s son with property and title (see Hartmann 1988, p. 24)69, but in Goethe’s drama, the possible illegitimacy of Alba’s act (he did indeed have Egmont executed) is not so clearly evident; of course, we learn nothing of his son’s reinstatement, as Egmont is childless in the tragedy. It is up to the attentive reader or observer in the theater to judge whether Egmont’s call for freedom is justified, whether it is directed against overly totalitarian absolutism in the style of Joseph II, or whether it is to be seen as a revolutionary, even democratic-republican act. It should not be forgotten that Goethe wrote his drama when the princely absolutist state was still taken for granted in Europe; republican sentiments, such as those repeatedly expressed by Egmont, can certainly be seen as revolutionary. As already mentioned above, ‘who vouches…’ for the Dutch asks Egmont Alba ‘…for their freedom?’70 But freedom is a problematic concept, especially political freedom, as much so in the 18th century and how much more so in the 16th century.

In both dramas, we have similar opening scenes, which, however, reveal clear differences: the hero, whether Götz or Egmont, is not present but is only mentioned quietly and with admiration by the assembled peasants, burghers, and mercenaries. However, while the Dutch glorify Egmont because of his extraordinary abilities as a battle-hardened marksman,71 friends of the knight Götz in the form of Metzler and Sievers, but also adversaries, namely the Bamberg horsemen, appear in the very first scene of Götz. These subordinates of the bishop immediately begin a violent confrontation with the peasants supporting Götz.72 The tensions could hardly be more different. While Götz’s enemies also appear as members of the people as an immediate threat, Egmont is held in such high esteem that he indeed does appear as a favorite of the masses. The Dutch people appear here as a single entity. It is hard to imagine that any of them could be plotting against Egmont in a life-threatening way. Here, the threat comes from another country, Spain, and is linked to the reasons of the state; justified or unjustified is another question. In Götz, the first law still largely reigns, whereas in Egmont, constitutional law is already of decisive importance. But even in Götz, Goethe retains the view of an author familiar with multiple points of view on the Peasants’ War, which is depicted differently in various sources. For example, he does not allow Götz’s own views on the Peasants’ War to remain the only ones, while the knight merely laments how the peasants ‘… recently did it to so many brave men of the nobility at Weinsberg,…’ (von Berlichingen 1998, p. 80), without naming a cause, Goethe allows Metzler to have his say and to convey to the historically documented character of the Peasants’ War Link, the motive of revenge for injustice suffered as the cause of its murderous violence: ‘…There was a Nixinger, when the fellow usually rode out hunting, with his panache and wide nostrils, and drove us before him with the hounds and like hounds. […] Hash! The spear between his ribs, …’73 Such acts of revenge by the peasants, which are probably also historically conditioned, do not play a role in Götz’s own descriptions of his life. Wendel Hippler, with whom Götz, judging by historical sources, wrote a modification of the twelve articles (Ulmschneider 1980, p. 18; see also Braun 1925, p. 61), is explicitly praised by Götz in his autobiography as a ‘…fine skillful man and writer…’ (von Berlichingen 1980, p. 208), while he does not appear in the play at all. As already indicated, the written word still carries little weight in this play. Similar to the descriptions of his life, in the play, Götz only allows himself to lead the peasants as captain under pressure in order to restore peace and tranquility. He angrily asks the furious peasants, ‘…Who burned Miltenberg?…’74 The peasants appear to be more or less blindly destructive, only prevented from doing far worse by Götz’s courageous intervention, which is the only reason he becomes their captain, the play suggests.75 However, there are other historical statements which, although extorted under torture, give the impression that Götz wholeheartedly championed the cause of the peasants (Ulmschneider 1980, p. 20; see also (Braun 1925, p. 61)). In the play, as indicated, Götz dies in the tower at Heilbronn as a hero tragically misjudged by his own class and maimed in body, property, and life by the war,76 while, according to the sources and his autobiography, he lived on for well over thirty years after the end of the Peasants’ War and managed his extensive estates with vigor.77 Historiography does not convey a uniform picture of the knight Götz as a symbol of a man who ‘…never hesitated to fight for freedom and justice…’ (Schröder 1994, p. 32); he is neither in the play nor as a historical figure a clearly transparent character! Goethe’s Egmont, on the other hand, leads the cause of the Dutch from the very beginning without any doubt as to its legitimacy. The reader is carried away by his fire for the cause of freedom in the fight against tyranny. There is no question that Alba also leads a reign of terror in Goethe’s tragedy. Since the Spanish duke has been in Brussels, the burghers, who had just been free and independent, have, in fact, only been walking the streets in fear, with Spanish mercenaries or soldiers lurking around every corner.78 In Götz, the peasants’ affairs are not portrayed as completely gratuitous violence, but they do not only appear once as senselessly murdering and plundering mobs; chaos, terror, and the pure desire for destruction, not a new, better order is what society can expect from their appearance. The danger to the state also comes from them because the oppressed peasants it is not an entity worth protecting. The extent to which the visionless nobility, entangled in feuds, can be held responsible for this remains a hidden main question of the play. In Egmont, a beautiful republican structure promoting a free civic spirit is suppressed by dark forces from outside, for they fear that the people could once again break loose in blind terror as they did before during the times of iconoclasm.79 Whether the regent assumes that Egmont wants to take over power himself through open rebellion remains to be seen, but her statement in the conversation with Machiavelli does not make this view appear completely unfounded. ‘…He often looks as if he lives in the complete conviction that he is master and does not want […] to chase us out of the country, …’80 But Egmont does not act in this sense in the tragedy. He sees himself as a subject of Philip II. The revolutionary act, with the open call for resistance against the Spanish oppressors, historically came later from Wilhelm I of Orange. Nevertheless, Egmont is feared to want to exchange the role of king for his own. It does not occur to us that such views would be expressed about Götz in the play, where the peasants’ twelve articles, which endanger the corporative state, are not mentioned, and Götz does not give the impression that he is resolutely doing the right thing when he joins them.

5. Linguistic Aspects

A further developmental step emerges when observing the use of language in these dramas. Both Götz and Egmont, as battle-hardened war heroes, are not advocates of the word; action is regarded as decisive, but Egmont is clearly already using language at a different level of reflection than Götz. When Götz betroths Maria to Weislingen, he says, as already mentioned, ‘…Shake hands, and so I say Amen!81 This settles the matter for Götz once and for all. Broken words play no role in Götz’s world. They are completely out of the question. The very introduction of the character of Machiavelli in the first act makes it clear that the treatment of language and law in Egmont takes place on a completely different level, as the historical model Machiavelli writes in his main work, ‘a wise ruler cannot and should not keep his word if this is to his detriment,…’ (Machiavelli 1941a, p. 87). So, should the educated reader not expect a completely different approach to words from this work from the outset than from the characters in Götz? After all, Weisling’s breach of his word in Götz and his marital union with Adelheid82 can still be interpreted as a moral inadequacy and weakness of character. In Egmont, the boundary between right and wrong is far less clear and is dependent on the political reasons of the state. Even Alba’s reign of terror can be interpreted in part as an attempt to return the Dutch to the old ‘rightful’ faith. We never get to know Alba as a weak, private person like Weislingen. Indeed, he also defines himself as a private person and family man through his role as a statesman by assigning his son Ferdinand a significant role in the process of Egmont’s capture! When Brother Martin explains to Götz in the third scene of the first act with scholastic sophistry why drinking wine is against his vow, Götz is unable to follow him, and Martin immediately drops down a linguistic level to chat with the knight about the importance of eating.83 However, Martin still has admiration for Götz because while he realizes that his educated language must be a herald of his weakness to the enemy, he is convinced that Götz’s voice overpowers the enemy. Götz’s use of language in Goethe’s play is powerful, dependent on immediate feeling, and usually linked to direct instructions for action. It is a poor match for Martin’s reflective consciousness, yet the monk envies him for his vocal power. There are indeed clear similarities here between Götz and Egmont, but Egmont’s relationship to language is much more nuanced. Egmont says ‘… of many hated things, writing is the most hated to me’.84 He leaves this activity to his secretary because it tempts him to reason and discourages him from acting. Nevertheless, Egmont discusses with the secretary questions of state welfare and the treatment of misdeeds and criminals.85 Götz’s relationship with other people in the play is even more primal, based on direct confrontation or appropriation. The written word as a decision-maker does not yet play a role. The choice is between friend or foe; one could simplify. Decisions about the wealth and woe of absent third parties are directly linked to one’s own actions. The fact that the knight’s right hand is made of iron and does not allow Götz to write can also be interpreted as a symbolic exaggeration of the direct connection between word and deed. Brother Martin deliberately shakes Götz’s right hand of iron, perhaps precisely because it is only suitable for the craft of war.86 Egmont at least uses language to decide legal cases of absentees by means of written explanations in a moderating and often pardoning manner. He may leave the writing to his secretary as a hated activity87, but he is much more aware of the power of the written word than Götz. It is precisely this—when Egmont negotiates the cases of some soldiers with his secretary and proceeds in a measured and merciful manner—that makes it clear that Schiller’s above-mentioned and often quoted criticism of Goethe’s hero Egmont is not justified in other respects either, or at least we can assume a certain moral attitude behind it. Schiller writes, ‘… that is precisely the misfortune that we know his merits from hearsay and are forced to accept them in good faith—but see his weaknesses with our eyes…’88 Of course, we do not see Egmont carry out his deeds at the Battle of Gravelingen and St. Quintin, we only know them from hearsay of the citizens; but is his judgment not much more meritorious in a moral sense if he does not have iconoclasts executed and condemns two of his soldiers as rapists, and does Egmont not pronounce these orders before our eyes in the presence of his secretary?89 Do we not have enough insight into his emotional life to be able to judge Egmont as a positive figure without good faith but on the basis of our own view? Or are these weaknesses in Schiller’s moral understanding? We must probably relate Schiller’s criticism more to the Klärchen plot, but while Schiller may condemn this relationship as morally reprehensible ‘libidinousness’, as unlawful immorality,90 we could also judge it in the Goethean sense as heroic and natural because the bourgeois girl and Count Egmont love each other with such mutual devotion even without a marriage certificate! Götz is a play that focuses on unbroken family relationships and judges them positively, and in part, attempts to orient itself on the life descriptions of the knight. For example, Götz asks his wife for help when he is captured in Heilbronn and sends her to Sickingen and Fundsberg to help him against the townspeople. ‘…That is what my wife did.’ (von Berlichingen 1998, p. 58). In the play, family matters are placed even more clearly at the center. After Weislingen, who is already engaged to Maria, breaks his word, Franz von Sickingen asks Götz for the hand of his sister Maria.91 In the play, Götz is indeed the caring family man who tries to find his sister a loving husband in order to steer family life in a duly consolidated, legal direction. Egmont is different; be it youthful carefreeness, be it forward-charging heroism, he has other ‘higher’ things in mind, such as the good of the State; in this drama, private family relationships are not mentioned or are so broken that they are reminiscent of the bourgeois tragedy. The relations between Egmont and Klärchen are strikingly reminiscent of the relationship between Ferdinand and Luise in Schiller’s Kabale und Liebe?92—Is the outcome to be expected, and will it be similar? We should not shrink back from the thought that the barriers of status would prevent a legal union even without Egmont’s violent end. Indeed, the Regent, Machiavelli, Egmont, Orange, and Alba all argue at a much higher level of political abstraction than the characters in Götz, but the society that Goethe presents to us here is even more fragile; established family relationships no longer exist as points of escape from a harsh world. When analyzing Egmont, we can no longer speak of the counter-image of a corrupt political world and an intact family world. Does Alba not use his own son Ferdinand in the murderous intrigue to capture Egmont and lead him to his death?93

6. Trends

Finally, the favor of the people mentioned above also becomes a theme in Egmont. Klärchen, completely convinced that the people will free Egmont, who has been imprisoned by Alba and his Spanish henchmen because they have cheered him so often in the streets, does not realize that as soon as he is no longer the powerful Count of Ghent, the citizens will turn away and remain silent so as not to endanger their own lives and possessions.94 In Götz, there is not yet such a distance between the citizens and the knight. Although the monk Martin, as mentioned above, speaks of being inspired by the perception of a great man, the citizens of Heilbronn want to compel Götz—if necessary by force of arms—to swear an oath of truce and submit to their conditions: ‘Citizens enter, staves in hand, weapons at their side’.95 The distance between the bourgeoisie and the nobility is not as significant here as in Egmont; the bourgeoisie is able to defend itself. With Egmont, who is revered by the burghers as a hero from afar, the violent conflict is left to the nobility and professional soldiers and mercenaries. In this drama, Goethe creates a warlike, worldly, well-fortified aristocracy entangled in ideological and philosophical disputes, while the bourgeoisie admires Egmont exclusively from afar and may well argue when it is safe to do so, but as soon as life and limb are at stake, they immediately abandon their bold flight of thought, their free spirit, in order not to endanger themselves This certainly has something to do with the fact that the historical Götz kidnaps and imprisons merchants in times of peace if he thinks that this is necessary for his undertakings (von Berlichingen 1998, p. 36) and they have little choice but to defend themselves. Although this is neither explicitly stated nor shown in the play nor in Götz’s autobiography, the relationship with the townspeople, who have had their own town charter since the Middle Ages, is more than strained. Egmont, on the other hand, is an admired hero of the people, capable in the eyes of many citizens of granting them their freedom and a constitution even against Spanish oppressors. The admiration for him is almost boundless in the first scene. This is why Egmont believes until almost the end of the drama that the people, Wilhelm I of Orange, even Klärchen if she were a man, would come to bring him freedom and prevent the tyrannicide against him. This fallacy is tragic, but the merciless execution also makes it clear to us that the Spanish state is an oppressive and repressive system.96 How differently Egmont himself acted, sparing the imprisoned iconoclasts the death sentence or letting Protestant clergymen go free.97 In this drama, Goethe focuses more on the general than on Götz. Questions of constitutional law and religious issues concerning the common good take center stage. Goethe, who had matured as a privy councilor in state affairs, had studied the classics in depth while in Italy (Figure 1), now addresses problems that are clearly different from those of individual freedom. The poetic freedom that Goethe allows himself, which Schiller criticized so harshly in his review of the work, by transforming Egmont from a multiple family man into a boyish hero, serves the misunderstood purpose of making clear the difference between a free, independent spirit that is not tormented by fears and the repressive system of Philip II of Spain. The Dutchman should not be forced to serve but should be allowed to act voluntarily and independently, the play suggests. To realize this idea skillfully, it is more than legitimate for Goethe to abandon historical facts and instead portray Egmont as a youthful hero reaching for the stars.

7. The Opponent

Clearly, the antagonists of the heroes Götz and Egmont have also been given very different character traits. Weislingen is a fictional character, so Goethe can allow himself any poetic license in his creation, while Alba is a historical figure whose characterization must at least adhere to a biographical framework so as not to deprive the play of any historical credibility.98 Weislingen becomes engaged to Marie in the good faith that he will also marry her, but as soon as he sees Adelheid, he falls for her. It is inconceivable that Alba would succumb to his amorous desires in this way. In fact, he only appears as a bringer of order to calm the agitated country; private feelings play no role whatsoever. As stated, he even involves his son Ferdinand in the political affairs of the state and avoids making any private statements, apart from the one that Ferdinand is too soft and too much like his mother.99 Nevertheless, Alba has to struggle much more with Goethe’s positive portrayal of Egmont than Weislingen does with Götz. The rebellious tendencies, such as those illustrated by William of Orange’s appeal to the Netherlands in 1568, are not presented in the drama.100 In the play, Alba appears exclusively as a tyrant servant endowed with unlimited power. But even under these circumstances, Goethe allows him to express some quite reasonable views. When Egmont alludes to the fact that the Dutch citizen naturally wants to be ruled by his aristocratic brother, Alba immediately sows doubt about this apparent right by cleverly remarking, ‘…And yet the nobility has shared very unequally with these his brothers’.101 It would be going too far to immediately infer Rousseau’s social contract from this one fact and turn Alba into a secret admirer of natural law, but this remark, even if it does not yet directly point to reservations about absolutism, does at least reveal a semblance of doubt about its legitimacy and points to a clever mind. What a critical distance from his own social and political position and function! It is another question whether Alba is expressing these reservations purely rhetorically in order to sense Egmont’s attitude, whether Goethe wants the spectator or reader of his tragedy to reflect on the order of the corporative state himself, or whether one can even take these statements as an opportunity to insinuate that Alba himself is only acting unlawfully because he considers the entire social order to be unlawful. In any case, Egmont’s response makes it clear once again that Goethe had a very fractured relationship with his hero. Egmont says, ‘…This was done centuries ago and is now tolerated without envy.’102 This can lead us to understand Egmont either as a frivolous, carefree character who does not give much thought to the legality of established social conditions or we can take the word tolerated at the end of his sentence quite seriously and assume that Egmont is well aware of the temporality of any constitutional order. But again, a difference between the plays Götz and Egmont becomes clear through this analysis of the two antagonists. Weislingen acts solely out of personal interest and is only concerned with his own advantage, or, to put it another way, is subject to his sensual desires. Leaving aside the conversation with the emperor, in which certain issues of State are aired but as already indicated, it is not too far-fetched to interpret that Weislingen advises the emperor to persecute Sickingen, Selbitz, and Berlichingen because of his guilty conscience,103 after all, he has broken his word to Maria, his fiancée, and sister of Götz. In this way, he gets rid of an adversary who could ruin his reputation. Weislingen’s character is such that one can hardly help but suspect that such personal feelings influence all his statements on state theory.104 Alba, on the other hand, has the good of the state in mind; we may not like the manner, and we may brand it as tyrannical, but Alba’s intention as such is of a different moral caliber than that of Weislingen.105 The mind, the intellect governs Alba! Even if he is inhumanly cold and cruel, he shows himself to be the ruler of his emotional life. Weislingen is guided by his feelings or is even dependent on them.106 For the young Goethe, the private feelings of his characters are still of much greater importance in the creation of his characters, and in Egmont, he increasingly detaches himself from this attitude. In 1782, he finally wrote to Charlotte von Stein himself. ‘…I only want to try to eradicate the overly buttoned-up, student-like manner that contradicts the dignity of the subject matter.’ (Goethe 1951, p. 647). This is why the characters in Egmont, when they are decision-makers on the political stage, always appear as reflective figures who assess every position, including their own, with detachment. As already mentioned, how differently the regent Margaret of Parma acts in Egmont compared to Adelheid in Götz. Both are certainly ladies-in-waiting, but one can hardly avoid describing Adelheid in Urgötz as a gruesomely exaggerated image of a scheming, man-killing lady-in-waiting107. Any life at court will hardly survive the onslaught of such a lady for too long, and the castle will soon outlast only as a ruin. How different and how much more realistic is the regent in Egmont, and how measured and deliberate is her behavior in conversation with her advisor108. In this respect, Goethe was certainly interested and succeeded in creating a much more historically realistic picture of court life than in Urgötz.

8. Conclusions

So, do the dramas Götz and Egmont both equally symbolize genuine humanity that is subject to corruption, and are both protagonists, indeed, very much alike? This article has proven otherwise. Yes, Goethe’s Götz is a knight who is forced by circumstances to become captain of the peasants in order to prevent far greater chaos and terror; misjudged and betrayed by his own class, he perishes. But he has no political foresight or good knowledge of human nature. Egmont, on the other hand, sees himself as the leader of “his” people in rebellion and supported in his liberal endeavors. Yes, this fallacy proves to be just as deadly, and indeed, both are subject to a far superior opponent—but are they both not acting out of completely different motives? Goethe’s Götz’ is forced in his position. Fighting for the peasants’ freedom is not Götz’s concern. It is imposed on him from the outside. Without nobles experienced in battle as leaders, the peasants must fear being completely helpless at the mercy of an opponent who is already militarily superior. Egmont, in contrast, fights for the people of his own free will, but in this tragedy, freedom is not a good so worthy of protection for the citizens of the Netherlands that they would defend him at the risk of their own lives.

Goethe’s Götz is still a family man; family feuds, individual matters—his own happiness—concern him and his thinking for the most part. Feuding is an end in itself for him as a knight and sometimes only a marauding or robber knight. Egmont, in difference, actively takes part in the political decision-making of his time. His aim is to work for the common good of his people and country. Despite all his flaws and misjudgments, he is a zoon politikon, acts responsibly as a leader, and is determined to free his country from his oppressors. In clear difference to Götz, the quest for political legality and freedom from political despotism is at the heart of the play Egmont. Götz, with his iron hand that makes him almost invincible and invulnerable in battle—is indeed, in difference, the typical colossal figure of the Storm and Stress period, lacking a well-developed capacity for reflection.

Goethe’s Egmont is not a reworking of Götz or latecomer, which repeats the same theme with variations; rather, it focuses on the dependence of the individual’s happiness on a just State. Götz is merely the individual, increasingly broken by circumstances and betrayal, struggling for personal and, at best, familial happiness, for whom the State only means something as long as it guarantees him his rights to personal freedom. Egmont tries to reach far beyond his personal fate and aristocratic freedom to serve liberty and religious independence in his country.109 The tragedy evokes questions of a different social, political, and moral scope in the reader. There are enough good and transparent reasons not to classify the work as just classic because Egmont is indeed far too impulsive and reckless for that and puts his life on the line all too youthfully and daringly—still, to an extent indeed, in accordance with Storm and Stress ideas—despite the warnings of Orange.110 But he does it for the idea of a humane, liberal State, and that is a classical ideal. So, it seems to be time to introduce the concept of Early Classicism or Preclassical period as a defining term for Egmont in difference to the Storm and Stress play Götz with its larger-than-life protagonist of colossal size. Götz and Egmont are very different characters this examination has shown. Indeed, we need to develop a more subtle set of instruments so that the all too sweepingly clear classification of Götz and Egmont—either both to Storm and Stress or Egmont only to Classicism111—can finally give way to more differentiated assessments.