Her bosom is swelling with sorrow; The world it is empty, the heart will die, There's nothing to wish for beneath the sky: 30 Thou Holy One, call thy child away! I've lived and loved, and that was to-day— Make ready my grave-clothes to-morrow.[653:1]

FOOTNOTES:

[653:1] I found it not in my power to translate this song with literal fidelity, preserving at the same time the Alcaic Movement, and have therefore added the original with a prose translation. Some of my readers may be more fortunate.

Thekla (spielt und singt).

Der Eichwald brauset, die Wolken ziehn, Das Mgdlein wandelt an Ufers Grn, Es bricht sich die Welle mit Macht, mit Macht, Und sie singt hinaus in die finstre Nacht, Das Auge von Weinen getrbet: Das Herz ist gestorben, die Welt ist leer, Und weiter giebt sie dem Wunsche nichts mehr. Du Heilige, rufe dein Kind zurck, Ich habe genossen das irdische Glck, Ich habe gelebt und geliebet.

LITERAL TRANSLATION.

Thekla (plays and sings).

The oak-forest bellows, the clouds gather, the damsel walks to and fro on the green of the shore; the wave breaks with might, with might, and she sings out into the dark night, her eye discoloured with weeping: the heart is dead, the world is empty, and further gives it nothing more to the wish. Thou Holy One, call thy child home. I have enjoyed the happiness of this world, I have lived and have loved.

I cannot but add here an imitation of this song, with which the author of The Tale of Rosamond Gray and Blind Margaret has favoured me, and which appears to me to have caught the happiest manner of our old ballads.

The clouds are black'ning, the storms threat'ning, The cavern doth mutter, the greenwood moan; Billows are breaking, the damsel's heart aching, Thus in the dark night she singeth alone, Her eye upward roving: The world is empty, the heart is dead surely, In this world plainly all seemeth amiss; To thy heaven, Holy One, take home thy little one, I have partaken of all earth's bliss, Both living and loving.

The text of Lamb's version as printed in Works, 1818, i. 42 is as follows:

BALLAD.

FROM THE GERMAN.

The clouds are blackening, the storms threatening, And ever the forest maketh a moan: Billows are breaking, the damsel's heart aching, Thus by herself she singeth alone, Weeping right plenteously. The world is empty, the heart is dead surely, In this world plainly all seemeth amiss: To thy breast, holy one, take now thy little one, I have had earnest of all earth's bliss Living most lovingly.

Spring, 1800.

LINENOTES:

[1] Countess (in a pressing manner). 1800, 1828, 1829.

[3]

The latest, &c. [They not appearing to attend to what she says, she steps between them.

1800, 1828, 1829.

[9] that 1800, 1828, 1829.

[15] Thekla (with energy). 1800, 1828, 1829.

SCENE VII

COUNTESS (returns), THEKLA.

Countess. Fie, lady niece! to throw yourself upon him, Like a poor gift to one who cares not for it, And so must be flung after him! For you, Duke Friedland's only child, I should have thought It had been more beseeming to have shewn yourself 5 More chary of your person.

Thekla. And what mean you?

Countess. I mean, niece, that you should not have forgotten Who you are, and who he is. But perchance That never once occurred to you.

Thekla. What then?

Countess. That you're the daughter of the Prince-Duke Friedland. 10

Thekla. Well—and what farther?

Countess. What? a pretty question!

Thekla. He was born that which we have but become. He's of an ancient Lombard family, Son of a reigning princess.

Countess. Are you dreaming? Talking in sleep? An excellent jest, forsooth! 15 We shall no doubt right courteously entreat him To honour with his hand the richest heiress In Europe.

Thekla. That will not be necessary.

Countess. Methinks 'twere well though not to run the hazard.

Thekla. His father loves him, Count Octavio 20 Will interpose no difficulty——

Countess. His! His father! his! But yours, niece, what of yours?

Thekla. Why I begin to think you fear his father, So anxiously you hide it from the man! His father, his, I mean.

Countess (looks at her). Niece, you are false. 25

Thekla. Are you then wounded? O, be friends with me!

Countess. You hold your game for won already. Do not Triumph too soon!—

Thekla. Nay now, be friends with me.

Countess. It is not yet so far gone.

Thekla. I believe you.

Countess. Did you suppose your father had laid out 30 His most important life in toils of war, Denied himself each quiet earthly bliss, Had banished slumber from his tent, devoted His noble head to care, and for this only, To make a happy pair of you? At length 35 To draw you from your convent, and conduct In easy triumph to your arms the man That chanc'd to please your eyes! All this, methinks, He might have purchased at a cheaper rate.

Thekla. That which he did not plant for me might yet 40 Bear me fair fruitage of its own accord. And if my friendly and affectionate fate, Out of his fearful and enormous being, Will but prepare the joys of life for me—

[655:1]Countess. Thou seest it with a love-lorn maiden's eyes. 45 Cast thine eye round, bethink thee who thou art. Into no house of joyance hast thou stepped, For no espousals dost thou find the walls Deck'd out, no guests the nuptial garland wearing. Here is no splendour but of arms. Or think'st thou 50 That all these thousands are here congregated To lead up the long dances at thy wedding? Thou see'st thy father's forehead full of thought, Thy mother's eye in tears: upon the balance Lies the great destiny of all our house. 55 Leave now the puny wish, the girlish feeling, O thrust it far behind thee! Give thou proof, Thou'rt the daughter of the Mighty—his Who where he moves creates the wonderful. Not to herself the woman must belong, 60 Annexed and bound to alien destinies. But she performs the best part, she the wisest, Who can transmute the alien into self, Meet and disarm necessity by choice; And what must be, take freely to her heart, 65 And bear and foster it with mother's love.

Thekla. Such ever was my lesson in the convent. I had no loves, no wishes, knew myself Only as his—his daughter—his, the Mighty! His fame, the echo of whose blast drove to me 70 From the far distance, wakened in my soul No other thought than this—I am appointed To offer up myself in passiveness to him.

Countess. That is thy fate. Mould thou thy wishes to it. I and thy mother gave thee the example. 75

Thekla. My fate hath shewn me him, to whom behoves it That I should offer up myself. In gladness Him will I follow.

Countess. Not thy fate hath shewn him! Thy heart, say rather—'twas thy heart, my child!

Thekla. Fate hath no voice but the heart's impulses. 80 I am all his! His Present—his alone, Is this new life, which lives in me. He hath A right to his own creature. What was I Ere his fair love infused a soul into me?

Countess. Thou would'st oppose thy father then, should he 85 Have otherwise determined with thy person?

[THEKLA remains silent. The COUNTESS continues.

Thou mean'st to force him to thy liking?—Child, His name is Friedland.

Thekla. My name too is Friedland. He shall have found a genuine daughter in me.

Countess. What? he has vanquished all impediment, 90 And in the wilful mood of his own daughter Shall a new struggle rise for him? Child! child! As yet thou hast seen thy father's smiles alone; The eye of his rage thou hast not seen. Dear child, I will not frighten thee. To that extreme, 95 I trust, it ne'er shall come. His will is yet Unknown to me: 'tis possible his aims May have the same direction as thy wish. But this can never, never be his will, That thou, the daughter of his haughty fortunes, 100 Should'st e'er demean thee as a love-sick maiden; And like some poor cost-nothing, fling thyself Toward the man, who, if that high prize ever Be destined to await him, yet, with sacrifices The highest love can bring, must pay for it. [Exit COUNTESS. 105

Thekla. I thank thee for the hint. It turns My sad presentiment to certainty. And it is so!—Not one friend have we here, Not one true heart! we've nothing but ourselves! O she said rightly—no auspicious signs 110 Beam on this covenant of our affections. This is no theatre, where hope abides. The dull thick noise of war alone stirs here. And love himself, as he were armed in steel, Steps forth, and girds him for the strife of death. 115

[Music from the banquet-room is heard.

There's a dark spirit walking in our house, And swiftly will the Destiny close on us. It drove me hither from my calm asylum, It mocks my soul with charming witchery, It lures me forward in a seraph's shape, 120 I see it near, I see it nearer floating, It draws, it pulls me with a god-like power— And lo! the abyss—and thither am I moving— I have no power within me not to move!

[The music from the banquet-room becomes louder.

O when a house is doomed in fire to perish, 125 Many a dark heaven drives his clouds together, Yea, shoots his lightnings down from sunny heights, Flames burst from out the subterraneous chasms, And fiends and angels mingling in their fury, Sling fire-brands at the burning edifice.[658:1] 130

[Exit THEKLA.

FOOTNOTES:

[655:1] A noble speech, and with the additional excellence of being in character. MS. R.

[658:1] There are few, who will not have taste enough to laugh at the two concluding lines of this soliloquy; and still fewer, I would fain hope, who would not have been more disposed to shudder, had I given a faithful translation. For the readers of German I have added the original:

Blind-wthend schleudert selbst der Gott der Freude Den Pechkranz in das brennende Gebude.[658:A]

[658:A] The two lines are sufficiently fustian, but this seems no reason for interpreting 'the God of Joy' as any higher divinity than Comus or rather an allegoric personage. Festivity alluding to the festive music and uproar heard from the banquet-room. MS. R.

LINENOTES:

[6] Thekla (rising). 1800, 1828, 1829.

[8] you 1800, 1828, 1829.

[12] born . . . become 1800, 1828, 1829.

[16] entreat 1800, 1828, 1829.

[21] His 1800, 1828, 1829.

[22] His . . . his 1800, 1828, 1829.

[25] His . . . his 1800, 1828, 1829. Countess (looks at her, as scrutinizing). 1800, 1828, 1829. false 1800, 1828, 1829.

[28] Thekla (interrupting her, and attempting to soothe her). 1800, 1828, 1829.

[58] his 1800, 1828, 1829.

[74] is 1800, 1828, 1829.

[76] him 1800, 1828, 1829.

[78] Him 1800, 1828, 1829.

[81] His Present—his 1800, 1828, 1829.

[88] My 1800, 1828, 1829.

[103] if 1800, 1828, 1829.

[Before 106] Thekla (who during the last speech had been standing evidently lost in her reflections). 1800, 1828, 1829.

[111] covenant] couvenant 1800.

[126] a] and 1800, 1828, 1829.

SCENE VIII

A large Saloon lighted up with festal Splendour; in the midst of it, and in the Centre of the Stage, a Table richly set out, at which eight Generals are sitting, among whom are OCTAVIO PICCOLOMINI, TERTSKY, and MARADAS. Right and left of this, but farther back, two other Tables, at each of which six Persons are placed. The Middle Door, which is standing open, gives to the Prospect a Fourth Table, with the same Number of Persons. More forward stands the sideboard. The whole front of the Stage is kept open for the Pages and Servants in waiting. All is in Motion. The Band of Music belonging to Tertsky's Regiment march across the Stage, and draw up round the Tables. Before they are quite off from the Front of the Stage, MAX PICCOLOMINI appears, TERTSKY advances towards him with a Paper, ISOLANI comes up to meet him with a Beaker or Service-cup.

TERTSKY, ISOLANI, MAX PICCOLOMINI.

Isolani. Here brother, what we love! Why, where hast been? Off to thy place—quick! Tertsky here has given The mother's holiday wine up to free booty. Here it goes on as at the Heidelberg castle. Already hast thou lost the best. They're giving 5 At yonder table ducal crowns in shares; There's Sternberg's lands and chattels are put up, With Egenberg's, Stawata's, Lichtenstein's, And all the great Bohemian feodalities. Be nimble, lad! and something may turn up 10 For thee—who knows? off—to thy place! quick! march!

Tiefenbach and Goetz (call out from the second and third tables). Count Piccolomini!

Tertsky. Stop, ye shall have him in an instant.—Read This oath here, whether as 'tis here set forth, The wording satisfies you. They've all read it, 15 Each in his turn, and each one will subscribe His individual signature.

Max (reads). 'Ingratis servire nefas.'

Isolani. That sounds to my ears very much like Latin, And being interpreted, pray what may't mean?

Tertsky. No honest man will serve a thankless master. 20

Max. 'Inasmuch as our supreme Commander, the illustrious Duke of Friedland, in consequence of the manifold affronts and grievances which he has received, had expressed his determination to quit the Emperor, but on our unanimous entreaty has graciously consented to remain still with the army, and not to 25 part from us without our approbation thereof, so we, collectively and each in particular, in the stead of an oath personally taken, do hereby oblige ourselves—likewise by him honourably and faithfully to hold, and in nowise whatsoever from him to part, and to be ready to shed for his interests the last drop of 30 our blood, so far, namely, as our oath to the Emperor will permit it. (These last words are repeated by ISOLANI.) In testimony of which we subscribe our names.'

Tertsky. Now!—are you willing to subscribe this paper?

Isolani. Why should he not? All officers of honour 35 Can do it, aye, must do it.—Pen and ink here!

Tertsky. Nay, let it rest till after meal.

Isolani (drawing Max along). Come, Max.

[Both seat themselves at their table.

LINENOTES:

[9] feodalities] feodalties 1800.

SCENE IX

TERTSKY, NEUMANN.

Tertsky (beckons to Neumann who is waiting at the side-table, and steps forward with him to the edge of the stage). Have you the copy with you, Neumann? Give it. It may be changed for the other?

Neumann. I have copied it Letter by letter, line by line; no eye Would e'er discover other difference, Save only the omission of that clause, 5 According to your Excellency's order.

Tertsky. Right! lay it yonder, and away with this— It has performed its business—to the fire with it—

NEUMANN lays the copy on the table and steps back again to the side-table.

SCENE X

ILLO (comes out from the second chamber), TERTSKY.

Illo. How goes it with young Piccolomini?

Tertsky. All right, I think. He has started no objection.

Illo. He is the only one I fear about— He and his father. Have an eye on both!

Tertsky. How looks it at your table: you forget not 5 To keep them warm and stirring?

Illo. O, quite cordial, They are quite cordial in the scheme. We have them. And 'tis as I predicted too. Already It is the talk, not merely to maintain The Duke in station. 'Since we're once for all 10 Together and unanimous, why not,' Says Montecuculi, 'aye, why not onward, And make conditions with the Emperor There in his own Vienna?' Trust me, Count, Were it not for these said Piccolomini, 15 We might have spared ourselves the cheat.

Tertsky. And Butler? How goes it there? Hush!

SCENE XI

To them enter BUTLER from the second table.

Butler. Don't disturb yourselves. Field Marshal, I have understood you perfectly. Good luck be to the scheme; and as to me, You may depend upon me.

Illo. May we, Butler?

Butler. With or without the clause, all one to me! 5 You understand me? My fidelity The Duke may put to any proof—I'm with him! Tell him so! I'm the Emperor's officer, As long as 'tis his pleasure to remain The Emperor's general! and Friedland's servant, 10 As soon as it shall please him to become His own lord.

Tertsky. You would make a good exchange. No stern economist, no Ferdinand, Is he to whom you plight your services.

Butler. I do not put up my fidelity 15 To sale, Count Tertsky! Half a year ago I would not have advised you to have made me An overture to that, to which I now Offer myself of my own free accord.— But that is past! and to the Duke, Field Marshal, 20 I bring myself together with my regiment. And mark you, 'tis my humour to believe, The example which I give will not remain Without an influence.

Illo. Who is ignorant, That the whole army look to Colonel Butler, 25 As to a light that moves before them?

Butler. Ey? Then I repent me not of that fidelity Which for the length of forty years I held, If in my sixtieth year my old good name Can purchase for me a revenge so full. 30 Start not at what I say, sir Generals! My real motives—they concern not you. And you yourselves, I trust, could not expect That this your game had crooked my judgment—or That fickleness, quick blood, or such light cause, 35 Had driven the old man from the track of honour, Which he so long had trodden.—Come, my friends! I'm not thereto determined with less firmness, Because I know and have looked steadily At that on which I have determined.

Illo. Say, 40 And speak roundly, what are we to deem you?

Butler. A friend! I give you here my hand! I'm yours With all I have. Not only men, but money Will the Duke want.——Go, tell him, sirs! I've earned and laid up somewhat in his service, 45 I lend it him; and is he my survivor, It has been already long ago bequeathed him. He is my heir. For me, I stand alone, Here in the world; nought know I of the feeling That binds the husband to a wife and children. 50 My name dies with me, my existence ends.

Illo. 'Tis not your money that he needs—a heart Like yours weighs tons of gold down, weighs down millions!

Butler. I came a simple soldier's boy from Ireland To Prague—and with a master, whom I buried. 55 From lowest stable-duty I climbed up, Such was the fate of war, to this high rank, The plaything of a whimsical good fortune. And Wallenstein too is a child of luck, I love a fortune that is like my own. 60

Illo. All powerful souls have kindred with each other.

Butler. This is an awful moment! to the brave, To the determined, an auspicious moment. The Prince of Weimar arms, upon the Maine To found a mighty dukedom. He of Halberstadt, 65 That Mansfeld, wanted but a longer life To have marked out with his good sword a lordship That should reward his courage. Who of these Equals our Friedland? there is nothing, nothing So high, but he may set the ladder to it! 70

Tertsky. That's spoken like a man!

Butler. Do you secure the Spaniard and Italian— I'll be your warrant for the Scotchman Lesly. Come! to the company!

Tertsky. Where is the master of the cellar? Ho! 75 Let the best wines come up. Ho! cheerly, boy! Luck comes to-day, so give her hearty welcome.

[Exeunt, each to his table.

LINENOTES:

[After 3] [with an air of mystery 1800, 1828, 1829.

[4] Illo (with vivacity). 1800, 1828, 1829.

[15] Butler (with a haughty look). 1800, 1828, 1829.

[34] my 1800, 1828, 1829.

[36] Had] Has 1800, 1828, 1829.

SCENE XII

The Master of the Cellar advancing with NEUMANN, Servants passing backwards and forwards.

Master of the Cellar. The best wine! O! if my old mistress, his lady mother, could but see these wild goings on, she would turn herself round in her grave. Yes, yes, sir officer! 'tis all down the hill with this noble house! no end, no moderation! And this marriage with the Duke's sister, a 5 splendid connection, a very splendid connection! but I tell you, sir officer, it bodes no good.

Neumann. Heaven forbid! Why, at this very moment the whole prospect is in bud and blossom!

Master of the Cellar. You think so?—Well, well! much 10 may be said on that head.

First Servant (comes). Burgundy for the fourth table.

Master of the Cellar. Now, sir lieutenant, if this isn't the seventieth flask——

First Servant. Why, the reason is, that German lord, 15 Tiefenbach, sits at that table.

Master of the Cellar (continuing his discourse to Neumann). They are soaring too high. They would rival kings and electors in their pomp and splendour; and wherever the Duke leaps, not a minute does my gracious master, the Count, loiter on the brink——(To the Servants)—What do 20 you stand there listening for? I will let you know you have legs presently. Off! see to the tables, see to the flasks! Look there! Count Palfi has an empty glass before him!

Runner (comes). The great service-cup is wanted, sir; that rich gold cup with the Bohemian arms on it. The Count 25 says you know which it is.

Master of the Cellar. Ay! that was made for Frederick's coronation by the artist William—there was not such another prize in the whole booty at Prague.

Runner. The same!—a health is to go round in him. 30

Master of the Cellar. This will be something for the tale-bearers—this goes to Vienna.

Neumann. Permit me to look at it.—Well, this is a cup indeed! How heavy! as well it may be, being all gold.—And what neat things are embossed on it! how natural 35 and elegant they look! There, on that first quarter, let me see. That proud Amazon there on horseback, she that is taking a leap over the crosier and mitres, and carries on a wand a hat together with a banner, on which there's a goblet represented. Can you tell me what all this signifies? 40

Master of the Cellar. The woman whom you see there on horseback, is the Free Election of the Bohemian Crown. That is signified by the round hat, and by that fiery steed on which she is riding. The hat is the pride of man; for he who cannot keep his hat on before kings and emperors 45 is no free man.

Neumann. But what is the cup there on the banner?

Master of the Cellar. The cup signifies the freedom of the Bohemian Church, as it was in our forefathers' times. Our forefathers in the wars of the Hussites forced from the Pope 50 this noble privilege: for the Pope, you know, will not grant the cup to any layman. Your true Moravian values nothing beyond the cup; it is his costly jewel, and has cost the Bohemians their precious blood in many and many a battle.

Neumann. And what says that chart that hangs in the air 55 there, over it all?

Master of the Cellar. That signifies the Bohemian letter royal, which we forced from the Emperor Rudolph—a precious, never to be enough valued parchment that secures to the new Church the old privileges of free ringing and 60 open psalmody. But since he of Steiermrk has ruled over us, that is at an end; and after the battle of Prague, in which Count Palatine Frederick lost crown and empire, our faith hangs upon the pulpit and the altar—and our brethren look at their homes over their shoulders; but the letter 65 royal the Emperor himself cut to pieces with his scissors.

Neumann. Why, my good Master of the Cellar! you are deep read in the chronicles of your country!

Master of the Cellar. So were my forefathers, and for that reason were they minstrels, and served under Procopius and 70 Ziska. Peace be with their ashes! Well, well! they fought for a good cause though—There! carry it up!

Neumann. Stay! let me but look at this second quarter. Look there! That is, when at Prague Castle the Imperial Counsellors, Martinitz and Stawata were hurled down head 75 over heels. 'Tis even so! there stands Count Thur who commands it.

[Runner takes the service-cup and goes off with it.

Master of the Cellar. O let me never more hear of that day. It was the three and twentieth of May, in the year of our Lord one thousand, six hundred, and eighteen. It seems to me 80 as it were but yesterday—from that unlucky day it all began, all the heart-aches of the country. Since that day it is now sixteen years, and there has never once been peace on the earth.

[Health drunk aloud at the second table.

The Prince of Weimar! Hurra!

[At the third and fourth table.

Long live Prince William! Long live Duke Bernard! 85 Hurra! [Music strikes up.

First Servant. Hear 'em! Hear 'em! What an uproar!

Second Servant (comes in running). Did you hear? They have drunk the Prince of Weimar's health.

Third Servant. The Swedish Chief Commander! 90

First Servant (speaking at the same time). The Lutheran!

Second Servant. Just before, when Count Deodate gave out the Emperor's health, they were all as mum as a nibbling mouse.

Master of the Cellar. Po, po! When the wine goes in, 95 strange things come out. A good servant hears, and hears not!—You should be nothing but eyes and feet, except when you are called.

Second Servant (to the Runner, to whom he gives secretly a flask of wine, keeping his eye on the Master of the Cellar, standing between him and the Runner). Quick, Thomas! before the Master of the Cellar runs this way—'tis a flask of 100 Frontignac!—Snapped it up at the third table.—Canst go off with it?

Runner (hides it in his pocket). All right!

[Exit the Second Servant.

Third Servant (aside to the First). Be on the hark, Jack! that we may have right plenty to tell to father Quivoga—He will 105 give us right plenty of absolution in return for it.

First Servant. For that very purpose I am always having something to do behind Illo's chair.—He is the man for speeches to make you stare with!

Master of the Cellar (to Neumann). Who, pray, may that 110 swarthy man be, he with the cross, that is chatting so confidentially with Esterhats?

Neumann. Ay! he too is one of those to whom they confide too much. He calls himself Maradas, a Spaniard is he.

Master of the Cellar (impatiently). Spaniard! Spaniard!—I 115 tell you, friend; nothing good comes of those Spaniards. All these out-landish[665:1] fellows are little better than rogues.

Neumann. Fy, fy! you should not say so, friend. There are among them our very best generals, and those on whom the Duke at this moment relies the most. 120

Master of the Cellar (taking the flask out of the Runner's pocket). My son, it will be broken to pieces in your pocket.

[TERTSKY hurries in, fetches away the paper, and calls to a Servant for pen and ink, and goes to the back of the stage.

Master of the Cellar (to the Servants). The Lieutenant-General stands up.—Be on the watch.—Now! They break up.—Off, and move back the forms.

[They rise at all the tables, the Servants hurry off the front of the stage to the tables; part of the guests come forward.

FOOTNOTES:

[665:1] There is a humour in the original which cannot be given in the translation. 'Die welschen alle,' &c., which word in classical German means the Italians alone; but in its first sense, and at present in the vulgar use of the word, signifies foreigners in general. Our word wall-nuts, I suppose, means outlandish nuts—Wallae nuces, in German 'Welschnsse'.—T.

LINENOTES:

[13] isn't] a'nt 1800, 1828, 1829.

[31] Master of the Cellar (shaking his head while he fetches and rinses the cups). 1800, 1828, 1829.

[74] there 1800, 1828, 1829.

[After 83] drunk] drank 1800, 1828, 1829.

[89] drunk] drank 1800, 1828, 1829.

[98] called] called to 1800, 1828, 1829.

SCENE XIII

OCTAVIO PICCOLOMINI enters in conversation with MARADAS, and both place themselves quite on the edge of the stage on one side of the proscenium. On the side directly opposite, MAX PICCOLOMINI, by himself, lost in thought, and taking no part in any thing that is going forward. The middle space between both, but rather more distant from the edge of the stage, is filled up by BUTLER, ISOLANI, GOETZ, TIEFENBACH, and KOLATTO.

Isolani (while the company is coming forward). Good night, good night, Kolatto! Good night, Lieutenant-General!—I should rather say, good morning.

Goetz (to Tiefenbach). Noble brother!

Tiefenbach. Ay! 'twas a royal feast indeed. 5

Goetz. Yes, my Lady Countess understands these matters. Her mother-in-law, heaven rest her soul, taught her!—Ah! that was a housewife for you!

Tiefenbach. There was not her like in all Bohemia for setting out a table. 10

Octavio (aside to Maradas). Do me the favour to talk to me—talk of what you will—or of nothing. Only preserve the appearance at least of talking. I would not wish to stand by myself, and yet I conjecture that there will be goings on here worthy of our attentive observation. 15

Isolani (on the point of going). Lights! lights!

Tertsky (advances with the paper to Isolani). Noble brother! two minutes longer!—Here is something to subscribe.

Isolani. Subscribe as much as you like—but you must excuse me from reading it. 20

Tertsky. There is no need. It is the oath which you have already read.—Only a few marks of your pen!

[ISOLANI hands over the paper to OCTAVIO respectfully.

Tertsky. Nay, nay, first come first served. There is no precedence here.

[OCTAVIO runs over the paper with apparent indifference. TERTSKY watches him at some distance.

Goetz (to Tertsky). Noble Count! with your 25 permission—Good night.

Tertsky. Where's the hurry? Come, one other composing draught. (To the Servants)—Ho!

Goetz. Excuse me—an't able.

Tertsky. A thimble-full! 30

Goetz. Excuse me.

Tiefenbach (sits down). Pardon me, nobles!—This standing does not agree with me.

Tertsky. Consult only your own convenience, General!

Tiefenbach. Clear at head, sound in stomach—only my legs 35 won't carry me any longer.

Isolani. Poor legs! how should they? Such an unmerciful load!

[OCTAVIO subscribes his name, and reaches over the paper to TERTSKY, who gives it to ISOLANI; and he goes to the table to sign his name.

Tiefenbach. 'Twas that war in Pomerania that first brought it on. Out in all weathers—ice and snow—no help for it.—I 40 shall never get the better of it all the days of my life.

Goetz. Why, in simple verity, your Swede makes no nice enquiries about the season.

Tertsky (observing Isolani, whose hand trembles excessively, so that he can scarce direct his pen). Have you had that ugly complaint long, noble brother?—Dispatch it. 45

Isolani. The sins of youth! I have already tried the Chalybeate waters. Well—I must bear it.

[TERTSKY gives the paper to MARADAS; he steps to the table to subscribe.

Octavio (advancing to Butler). You are not over fond of the orgies of Bacchus, Colonel! I have observed it. You would, I think, find yourself more to your liking in the uproar of a battle, 50 than of a feast.

Butler. I must confess, 'tis not in my way.

Octavio. Nor in mine either, I can assure you; and I am not a little glad, my much honoured Colonel Butler, that we agree so well in our opinions. A half dozen good friends at most, 55 at a small round table, a glass of genuine Tokay, open hearts, and a rational conversation—that's my taste!

Butler. And mine too, when it can be had.

[The paper comes to TIEFENBACH, who glances over it at the same time with GOETZ and KOLATTO. MARADAS in the mean time returns to OCTAVIO, all this takes place, the conversation with BUTLER proceeding uninterrupted.

Octavio (introducing Maradas to Butler). Don Balthasar Maradas! likewise a man of our stamp, and long ago your admirer. 60

[BUTLER bows.

Octavio (continuing). You are a stranger here—'twas but yesterday you arrived—you are ignorant of the ways and means here. 'Tis a wretched place—I know, at our age, one loves to be snug and quiet—What if you moved your lodgings?—Come, be my visitor. (BUTLER makes a low bow.) Nay, without 65 compliment!—For a friend like you, I have still a corner remaining.

Butler. Your obliged humble servant, my Lord Lieutenant-General!

[The paper comes to BUTLER, who goes to the table to subscribe it. The front of the stage is vacant, so that both the PICCOLOMINIS, each on the side where he had been from the commencement of the scene, remain alone.

Octavio (after having some time watched his son in silence, advances somewhat nearer to him). You were long absent from us, friend! 70

Max. I——urgent business detained me.

Octavio. And, I observe, you are still absent!

Max. You know this crowd and bustle always makes me silent. 75

Octavio. May I be permitted to ask what business 'twas that detained you? Tertsky knows it without asking!

Max. What does Tertsky know?

Octavio. He was the only one who did not miss you.

Isolani. Well done, father! Rout out his baggage! Beat 80 up his quarters! there is something there that should not be.

Tertsky (with the paper). Is there none wanting? Have the whole subscribed?

Octavio. All.

Tertsky (calling aloud). Ho! Who subscribes? 85

Butler (to Tertsky). Count the names. There ought to be just thirty.

Tertsky. Here is a cross.

Tiefenbach. That's my mark.

Isolani. He cannot write; but his cross is a good cross, and 90 is honoured by Jews as well as Christians.

Octavio (presses on to Max). Come, general! let us go. It is late.

Tertsky. One Piccolomini only has signed.

Isolani (pointing to Max). Look! that is your man, that statue there, who has had neither eye, ear, nor tongue for us the 95 whole evening.

[MAX receives the paper from TERTSKY, which he looks upon vacantly.

LINENOTES:

[After 4] (making the usual compliment after meals) 1800, 1828, 1829.

[After 15] [He continues to fix his eye on the whole following scene. 1800, 1828, 1829.

[37] Isolani (pointing at his corpulence). 1800, 1828, 1829. should] should 1800, 1828, 1829.

[Before 53] Octavio (stepping nearer to him friendlily). 1800, 1828, 1829.

[Before 68] Butler (coldly). 1800, 1828, 1829.

[Before 76] Octavio (advancing still nearer). 1800, 1828, 1829.

[76] business 'twas] the business was 1800, 1828, 1829.

[77] Tertsky 1800, 1828, 1829.

[Before 80] Isolani (who has been attending to them from some distance, steps up). 1800, 1828, 1829.

[93] One 1800, 1828, 1829.

SCENE XIV

To these enter ILLO from the inner room. He has in his hand the golden service-cup, and is extremely distempered with drinking: GOETZ and BUTLER follow him, endeavouring to keep him back.

Illo. What do you want? Let me go.

Goetz and Butler. Drink no more, Illo! For heaven's sake, drink no more.

Illo (goes up to Octavio, and shakes him cordially by the hand, and then drinks). Octavio! I bring this to you! Let all grudge be drowned in this friendly bowl! I know well enough, ye 5 never loved me—Devil take me!—and I never loved you!—I am always even with people in that way!—Let what's past be past—that is, you understand—forgotten! I esteem you infinitely. (Embracing him repeatedly.) You have not a dearer friend on earth than I—but that you know. The fellow that cries rogue 10 to you calls me villain—and I'll strangle him!—my dear friend!

Tertsky (whispering to him). Art in thy senses? For heaven's sake, Illo! think where you are!

Illo (aloud). What do you mean?—There are none but friends here, are there? Not a sneaker among us, thank heaven! 15

Tertsky (to Butler). Take him off with you, force him off, I entreat you, Butler!

Butler (to Illo). Field Marshal! a word with you.

[Leads him to the sideboard.

Illo. A thousand for one! Fill—Fill it once more up to the brim.—To this gallant man's health! 20

Isolani (to Max, who all the while has been staring on the paper with fixed but vacant eyes). Slow and sure, my noble brother!—Hast parsed it all yet?—Some words yet to go through?—Ha?

Max. What am I to do?

Tertsky (and at the same time Isolani). Sign your name.

Max (returns the paper). Let it stay till to-morrow. It is 25 business—to-day I am not sufficiently collected. Send it to me to-morrow.

Tertsky. Nay, collect yourself a little.

Isolani. Awake, man! awake!—Come, thy signature, and have done with it! What? Thou art the youngest in the 30 whole company, and wouldest be wiser than all of us together? Look there! thy father has signed—we have all signed.

Tertsky (to Octavio). Use your influence. Instruct him.

Octavio. My son is at the age of discretion.

Illo (leaves the service-cup on the sideboard). What's the dispute? 35

Tertsky. He declines subscribing the paper.

Max. I say, it may as well stay till to-morrow.

Illo. It cannot stay. We have all subscribed to it—and so must you.—You must subscribe.

Max. Illo, good night! 40

Illo. No! You come not off so! The Duke shall learn who are his friends. [All collect round ILLO and MAX.

Max. What my sentiments are towards the Duke, the Duke knows, every one knows—what need of this wild stuff? 45

Illo. This is the thanks the Duke gets for his partiality to Italians and foreigners.—Us Bohemians he holds for little better than dullards—nothing pleases him but what's outlandish.

Tertsky (to the commanders, who at Illo's words give a sudden start, as preparing to resent them). It is the wine that speaks, and not his reason. Attend not to him, I entreat you. 50

Isolani. Wine invents nothing: it only tattles.

Illo. He who is not with me is against me. Your tender consciences! Unless they can slip out by a back-door, by a puny proviso——

Tertsky. He is stark mad—don't listen to him! 55

Illo. Unless they can slip out by a proviso.—What of the proviso? The devil take this proviso!

Max. What is there here then of such perilous import? You make me curious—I must look closer at it.

Tertsky (in a low voice to Illo). What are you doing, Illo? 60 You are ruining us.

Tiefenbach (to Kolatto). Ay, ay! I observed, that before we sat down to supper, it was read differently.

Goetz. Why, I seemed to think so too.

Isolani. What do I care for that? Where there stand other 65 names, mine can stand too.

Tiefenbach. Before supper there was a certain proviso therein, or short clause concerning our duties to the Emperor.

Butler (to one of the commanders). For shame, for shame! Bethink you. What is the main business here? The question 70 now is, whether we shall keep our General, or let him retire. One must not take these things too nicely and over-scrupulously.

Isolani (to one of the Generals). Did the Duke make any of these provisos when he gave you your regiment? 75

Tertsky (to Goetz). Or when he gave you the office of army-purveyancer, which brings you in yearly a thousand pistoles!

Illo. He is a rascal who makes us out to be rogues. If there be any one that wants satisfaction, let him say so,—I am his man. 80

Tiefenbach. Softly, softly! 'Twas but a word or two.

Max (having read the paper gives it back). Till to-morrow, therefore!

Illo (stammering with rage and fury, loses all command over himself, and presents the paper to Max with one hand, and his sword in the other). Subscribe—Judas!

Isolani. Out upon you, Illo! 85

Octavio, Tertsky, Butler (all together). Down with the sword!

Max (rushes on him suddenly and disarms him, then to Count Tertsky). Take him off to bed.

[MAX leaves the stage. ILLO cursing and raving is held back by some of the Officers, and amidst a universal confusion the curtain drops.

LINENOTES:

[11] dear 1800, 1828, 1829.

[15] here, are there? (looks round the whole circle with a jolly and triumphant air) 1800, 1828, 1829.

[Before 16] Tertsky (to Butler, eagerly). 1800, 1828, 1829.

[Before 19] Illo (cordially). 1800, 1828, 1829.

[22] parsed 1800, 1828, 1829.

[Before 23] Max (waking as from a dream). 1800, 1828, 1829.

[After 24] [OCTAVIO directs his eyes on him with intense anxiety. 1800, 1828, 1829.

[26] business 1800, 1828, 1829.

[Before 49] Tertsky (in extreme embarrassment, to the, &c. 1800, 1828, 1829.

[Before 51] Isolani (with a bitter laugh). 1800, 1828, 1829.

[51] tattles 1800, 1828, 1829.

[Before 55] Tertsky (interrupting him). 1800, 1828, 1829.

[Before 56] Illo (raising his voice to the highest pitch). 1800, 1828, 1829.

[57] proviso 1800, 1828, 1829.

[Before 58] Max (has his attention roused, and looks again into the paper). 1800, 1828, 1829.

[67] was 1800, 1828, 1829.



ACT III

SCENE I

SCENE.—A Chamber in PICCOLOMINI'S Mansion.—Night.

OCTAVIO PICCOLOMINI. A Valet de Chambre, with Lights.

Octavio.——And when my son comes in, conduct him hither. What is the hour?

Valet. 'Tis on the point of morning.

Octavio. Set down the light. We mean not to undress. You may retire to sleep.

[Exit Valet. OCTAVIO paces, musing, across the chamber; MAX PICCOLOMINI enters unobserved, and looks at his father for some moments in silence.

Max. Art thou offended with me? Heaven knows 5 That odious business was no fault of mine. 'Tis true, indeed, I saw thy signature. What thou hadst sanctioned, should not, it might seem, Have come amiss to me. But—'tis my nature— Thou know'st that in such matters I must follow 10 My own light, not another's.

Octavio (embraces him). Follow it, O follow it still further, my best son! To-night, dear boy! it hath more faithfully Guided thee than the example of thy father.

Max. Declare thyself less darkly.

Octavio. I will do so. 15 For after what has taken place this night, There must remain no secrets 'twixt us two.

[Both seat themselves.

Max Piccolomini! what thinkest thou of The oath that was sent round for signatures?

Max. I hold it for a thing of harmless import, 20 Although I love not these set declarations.

Octavio. And on no other ground hast thou refused The signature they fain had wrested from thee?

Max. It was a serious business——I was absent— The affair itself seemed not so urgent to me. 25

Octavio. Be open, Max. Thou hadst then no suspicion?

Max. Suspicion! what suspicion? Not the least.

Octavio. Thank thy good angel, Piccolomini: He drew thee back unconscious from the abyss.

Max. I know not what thou meanest.

Octavio. I will tell thee. 30 Fain would they have extorted from thee, son, The sanction of thy name to villainy; Yea, with a single flourish of thy pen, Made thee renounce thy duty and thy honour!

Max (rises). Octavio!

Octavio. Patience! Seat yourself. Much yet 35 Hast thou to hear from me, friend!—hast for years Lived in incomprehensible illusion. Before thine eyes is Treason drawing out As black a web as e'er was spun for venom: A power of hell o'erclouds thy understanding. 40 I dare no longer stand in silence—dare No longer see thee wandering on in darkness, Nor pluck the bandage from thine eyes.

Max. My father! Yet, ere thou speak'st, a moment's pause of thought! If your disclosures should appear to be 45 Conjectures only—and almost I fear They will be nothing further—spare them! I Am not in that collected mood at present, That I could listen to them quietly.

Octavio. The deeper cause thou hast to hate this light, 50 The more impatient cause have I, my son, To force it on thee. To the innocence And wisdom of thy heart I could have trusted thee With calm assurance—but I see the net Preparing—and it is thy heart itself 55 Alarms me for thine innocence—that secret, Which thou concealest, forces mine from me. Know, then, they are duping thee!—a most foul game With thee and with us all—nay, hear me calmly— The Duke even now is playing. He assumes 60 The mask, as if he would forsake the army; And in this moment makes he preparations That army from the Emperor to steal, And carry it over to the enemy!

Max. That low Priest's legend I know well, but did not 65 Expect to hear it from thy mouth.

Octavio. That mouth, From which thou hearest it at this present moment, Doth warrant thee that it is no Priest's legend.

Max. How mere a maniac they supposed the Duke! What, he can meditate?—the Duke?—can dream 70 That he can lure away full thirty thousand Tried troops and true, all honourable soldiers, More than a thousand noblemen among them, From oaths, from duty, from their honour lure them, And make them all unanimous to do 75 A deed that brands them scoundrels?

Octavio. Such a deed, With such a front of infamy, the Duke No wise desires—what he requires of us Bears a far gentler appellation. Nothing He wishes, but to give the Empire peace. 80 And so, because the Emperor hates this peace, Therefore the Duke—the Duke will force him to it. All parts of the Empire will he pacify, And for his trouble will retain in payment (What he has already in his gripe)—Bohemia! 85

Max. Has he, Octavio, merited of us, That we—that we should think so vilely of him?

Octavio. What we would think is not the question here. The affair speaks for itself—and clearest proofs! Hear me, my son—'tis not unknown to thee, 90 In what ill credit with the Court we stand. But little dost thou know, or guess, what tricks, What base intrigues, what lying artifices, Have been employed—for this sole end—to sow Mutiny in the camp! All bands are loosed— 95 Loosed all the bands, that link the officer To his liege Emperor, all that bind the soldier Affectionately to the citizen. Lawless he stands, and threateningly beleaguers The state he's bound to guard. To such a height 100 'Tis swoln, that at this hour the Emperor Before his armies—his own armies—trembles; Yea, in his capital, his palace, fears The traitor's poniards, and is meditating To hurry off and hide his tender offspring—— 105 Not from the Swedes, not from the Lutherans— No! from his own troops hide and hurry them!

Max. Cease, cease! thou tortur'st, shatter'st me. I know That oft we tremble at an empty terror; But the false phantasm brings a real misery. 110

Octavio. It is no phantasm. An intestine war, Of all the most unnatural and cruel, Will burst out into flames, if instantly We do not fly and stifle it. The Generals Are many of them long ago won over; 115 The subalterns are vacillating—whole Regiments and garrisons are vacillating. To foreigners our strong holds are entrusted; To that suspected Schafgotch is the whole Force of Silesia given up: to Tertsky 120 Five regiments, foot and horse—to Isolani, To Illo, Kinsky, Butler, the best troops.

Max. Likewise to both of us.

Octavio. Because the Duke Believes he has secured us—means to lure us Still further on by splendid promises. 125 To me he portions forth the princedoms, Glatz And Sagan; and too plain I see the angle With which he doubts not to catch thee.

Max. No! no! I tell thee—no!

Octavio. O open yet thine eyes! And to what purpose think'st thou he has called us 130 Hither to Pilsen?—to avail himself Of our advice?—O when did Friedland ever Need our advice?—Be calm, and listen to me. To sell ourselves are we called hither, and, Decline we that—to be his hostages. 135 Therefore doth noble Galas stand aloof; Thy father, too, thou would'st not have seen here, If higher duties had not held him fettered.

Max. He makes no secret of it—needs make none— That we're called hither for his sake—he owns it. 140 He needs our aidance to maintain himself— He did so much for us; and 'tis but fair That we too should do somewhat now for him.

Octavio. And know'st thou what it is which we must do? That Illo's drunken mood betrayed it to thee. 145 Bethink thyself—what hast thou heard, what seen? The counterfeited paper—the omission Of that particular clause, so full of meaning, Does it not prove, that they would bind us down To nothing good?

Max. That counterfeited paper 150 Appears to me no other than a trick Of Illo's own device. These underhand Traders in great men's interests ever use To urge and hurry all things to the extreme. They see the Duke at variance with the court, 155 And fondly think to serve him, when they widen The breach irreparably. Trust me, father, The Duke knows nothing of all this.

Octavio. It grieves me That I must dash to earth, that I must shatter A faith so specious; but I may not spare thee! 160 For this is not a time for tenderness. Thou must take measures, speedy ones—must act. I therefore will confess to thee, that all Which I've entrusted to thee now—that all Which seems to thee so unbelievable, 165 That—yes, I will tell thee—Max! I had it all From his own mouth—from the Duke's mouth I had it.

Max. No!—no!—never!

Octavio. Himself confided to me What I, 'tis true, had long before discovered By other means—himself confided to me, 170 That 'twas his settled plan to join the Swedes; And, at the head of the united armies, Compel the Emperor—

Max. He is passionate. The Court has stung him—he is sore all over With injuries and affronts; and in a moment 175 Of irritation, what if he, for once, Forgot himself? He's an impetuous man.

Octavio. Nay, in cold blood he did confess this to me: And having construed my astonishment Into a scruple of his power, he shewed me 180 His written evidences—shewed me letters, Both from the Saxon and the Swede, that gave Promise of aidance, and defin'd the amount.

Max. It cannot be!—can not be! can not be! Dost thou not see, it cannot! 185 Thou wouldest of necessity have shewn him Such horror, such deep loathing—that or he Had taken thee for his better genius, or Thou stood'st not now a living man before me—

Octavio. I have laid open my objections to him, 190 Dissuaded him with pressing earnestness; But my abhorrence, the full sentiment Of my whole heart—that I have still kept sacred To my own consciousness.

Max. And thou hast been So treacherous? That looks not like my father! 195 I trusted not thy words, when thou didst tell me Evil of him; much less can I now do it, That thou calumniatest thy own self.

Octavio. I did not thrust myself into his secrecy.

Max. Uprightness merited his confidence. 200

Octavio. He was no longer worthy of sincerity.

Max. Dissimulation, sure, was still less worthy Of thee, Octavio!

Octavio. Gave I him a cause To entertain a scruple of my honour?

Max. That he did not, evinced his confidence. 205

Octavio. Dear son, it is not always possible Still to preserve that infant purity Which the voice teaches in our inmost heart. Still in alarm, for ever on the watch Against the wiles of wicked men, e'en Virtue 210 Will sometimes bear away her outward robes Soiled in the wrestle with Iniquity. This is the curse of every evil deed, That, propagating still, it brings forth evil. I do not cheat my better soul with sophisms: 215 I but perform my orders; the Emperor Prescribes my conduct to me. Dearest boy, Far better were it, doubtless, if we all Obeyed the heart at all times; but so doing, In this our present sojourn with bad men, 220 We must abandon many an honest object. 'Tis now our call to serve the Emperor, By what means he can best be served—the heart May whisper what it will—this is our call!

Max. It seems a thing appointed, that to-day 225 I should not comprehend, not understand thee. The Duke thou say'st did honestly pour out His heart to thee, but for an evil purpose; And thou dishonestly hast cheated him For a good purpose! Silence, I entreat thee— 230 My friend thou stealest not from me— Let me not lose my father!

Octavio. As yet thou know'st not all, my son. I have Yet somewhat to disclose to thee. [After a pause. Duke Friedland Hath made his preparations. He relies 235 Upon his stars. He deems us unprovided, And thinks to fall upon us by surprise. Yea, in his dream of hope, he grasps already The golden circle in his hand. He errs. We too have been in action—he but grasps 240 His evil fate, most evil, most mysterious!

Max. O nothing rash, my sire! By all that's good Let me invoke thee—no precipitation!

Octavio. With light tread stole he on his evil way, With light tread hath Vengeance stole on after him. 245 Unseen she stands already, dark behind him— But one step more—he shudders in her grasp! Thou hast seen Questenberg with me. As yet Thou know'st but his ostensible commission; He brought with him a private one, my son! 250 And that was for me only.

Max. May I know it?

Octavio (seizes the patent). Max! [A pause. ——In this disclosure place I in thy hands The Empire's welfare and thy father's life. Dear to thy inmost heart is Wallenstein: A powerful tie of love, of veneration, 255 Hath knit thee to him from thy earliest youth. Thou nourishest the wish.—O let me still Anticipate thy loitering confidence! The hope thou nourishest to knit thyself Yet closer to him——

Max. Father——

Octavio. O my son! 260 I trust thy heart undoubtingly. But am I Equally sure of thy collectedness? Wilt thou be able, with calm countenance, To enter this man's presence, when that I Have trusted to thee his whole fate?

Max. According 265 As thou dost trust me, father, with his crime.

[OCTAVIO takes a paper out of his escrutoire, and gives it to him.

Max. What? how? a full Imperial patent!

Octavio. Read it.

Max (just glances on it). Duke Friedland sentenced and condemned!

Octavio. Even so.

Max (throws down the paper). O this is too much! O unhappy error! 270

Octavio. Read on. Collect thyself.

Max (after he has read further, with a look of affright and astonishment on his father). How! what! Thou! thou!

Octavio. But for the present moment, till the King Of Hungary may safely join the army, Is the command assigned to me.

Max. And think'st thou, Dost thou believe, that thou wilt tear it from him? 275 O never hope it!—Father! father! father! An inauspicious office is enjoined thee. This paper here—this! and wilt thou enforce it? The mighty in the middle of his host, Surrounded by his thousands, him would'st thou 280 Disarm—degrade! Thou art lost, both thou and all of us.

Octavio. What hazard I incur thereby, I know. In the great hand of God I stand. The Almighty Will cover with his shield the Imperial house, And shatter, in his wrath, the work of darkness. 285 The Emperor hath true servants still; and even Here in the camp, there are enough brave men, Who for the good cause will fight gallantly. The faithful have been warned—the dangerous Are closely watched. I wait but the first step, 290 And then immediately——

Max. What! on suspicion? Immediately?

Octavio. The Emperor is no tyrant. The deed alone he'll punish, not the wish. The Duke hath yet his destiny in his power. Let him but leave the treason uncompleted, 295 He will be silently displaced from office, And make way to his Emperor's royal son. An honourable exile to his castles Will be a benefaction to him rather Than punishment. But the first open step—— 300

Max. What callest thou such a step? A wicked step Ne'er will he take; but thou mightest easily, Yea, thou hast done it, misinterpret him.

Octavio. Nay, howsoever punishable were Duke Friedland's purposes, yet still the steps 305 Which he hath taken openly, permit A mild construction. It is my intention To leave this paper wholly uninforced Till some act is committed which convicts him Of a high-treason, without doubt or plea, 310 And that shall sentence him.

Max. But who the judge?

Octavio. Thyself.

Max. For ever, then, this paper will lie idle.

Octavio. Too soon, I fear, its powers must all be proved. After the counter-promise of this evening, 315 It cannot be but he must deem himself Secure of the majority with us; And of the army's general sentiment He hath a pleasing proof in that petition Which thou delivered'st to him from the regiments. 320 Add this too—I have letters that the Rhinegrave Hath changed his route, and travels by forced marches To the Bohemian Forest. What this purports, Remains unknown; and, to confirm suspicion, This night a Swedish nobleman arrived here. 325

Max. I have thy word. Thou'lt not proceed to action Before thou hast convinced me—me myself.

Octavio. Is it possible? Still, after all thou know'st, Canst thou believe still in his innocence?

Max. Thy judgment may mistake; my heart can not. 330 These reasons might expound thy spirit or mine; But they expound not Friedland—I have faith: For as he knits his fortunes to the stars, Even so doth he resemble them in secret, Wonderful, still inexplicable courses! 335 Trust me, they do him wrong. All will be solved. These smokes, at once, will kindle into flame— The edges of this black and stormy cloud Will brighten suddenly, and we shall view The Unapproachable glide out in splendour. 340

Octavio. I will await it.

LINENOTES:

Act III, Scene I. A Chamber, &c. . . . It is Night. Octavio, &c. 1800, 1828, 1829.

[8] thou 1800, 1828, 1829.

[Before 12] Octavio (goes up to him and embraces him). 1800, 1828, 1829.

[39] for] from 1800, 1828, 1829.

[47] They] There 1828, 1829.

[After 56] [Fixing his eye steadfastly on his son's face. 1800, 1828, 1829.

[57] mine 1800, 1828, 1829.

[After 57] [Max attempts to answer but hesitates, and casts his eyes to the ground, embarrassed. Octavio, after a pause. 1800, 1828, 1829.

[63] steal 1800, 1828, 1829.

[69] supposed] suppose 1800, 1828, 1829.

[78] wise] ways 1800, 1828, 1829.

[81] this 1800.

[82] force 1800.

[88] we would 1800, 1828, 1829.

[104] traitor's] traitors' 1800, 1828, 1829.

[127] angle] angel 1800, 1828, 1829, 1834 angle 1852. Angle, der Angel, a curious misprint perpetuated in the new edition. [MS. note by Derwent Coleridge.]

[128] thee 1800, 1828, 1829.

[166] That—yes, I will tell thee— (a pause), &c. 1800, 1828, 1829.]

[Before 168] Max (in excessive agitation). 1800, 1828, 1829.

[192] abhorrence 1800, 1828, 1829.

[193] whole 1800, 1828, 1829.

[194] thou 1800, 1828, 1829.

[197] now 1800, 1828, 1829.

[209] alarm] alarum 1828, 1829.

[233] _Octavio (suppressing resentment)._ _1800, 1828, 1829.

[245] With light tread] And light of tread 1800, 1828, 1829.

[250] private 1800, 1828, 1829.

[257] wish 1800, 1828, 1829.

[259] hope 1800, 1828, 1829.

[317] us 1800, 1828, 1829.

[322] Hath] Had 1800, 1828, 1829.

[Before 330] Max (with enthusiasm). 1800, 1828, 1829.

[After 330] [Moderates his voice and manner. 1800, 1828, 1829.

SCENE II

OCTAVIO and MAX as before. To them the Valet of the Chamber.

Octavio. How now, then?

Valet. A dispatch is at the door.

Octavio. So early? From whom comes he then? Who is it?

Valet. That he refused to tell me.

Octavio. Lead him in: And, hark you—let it not transpire.

[Exit Valet—the Cornet steps in.

Octavio. Ha! Cornet—is it you? and from Count Galas? 5 Give me your letters.

Cornet. The Lieutenant-General Trusted it not to letters.

Octavio. And what is it?

Cornet. He bade me tell you—Dare I speak openly here?

Octavio. My son knows all.

Cornet. We have him.

Octavio. Whom?

Cornet. Sesina, The old negotiator.

Octavio. And you have him? 10

Cornet. In the Bohemian Forest Captain Mohrbrand Found and secured him yester morning early: He was proceeding then to Regenspurg, And on him were dispatches for the Swede.

Octavio. And the dispatches——

Cornet. The Lieutenant-General 15 Sent them that instant to Vienna, and The prisoner with them.

Octavio. This is, indeed, a tiding! That fellow is a precious casket to us, Enclosing weighty things.—Was much found on him?

Cornet. I think, six packets, with Count Tertsky's arms. 20

Octavio. None in the Duke's own hand?

Cornet. Not that I know.

Octavio. And old Sesina?

Cornet. He was sorely frightened, When it was told him he must to Vienna. But the Count Altringer bade him take heart, Would he but make a full and free confession. 25

Octavio. Is Altringer then with your Lord? I heard That he lay sick at Linz.

Cornet. These three days past He's with my master, the Lieutenant-General, At Frauenberg. Already have they sixty Small companies together, chosen men; 30 Respectfully they greet you with assurances, That they are only waiting your commands.

Octavio. In a few days may great events take place. And when must you return?

Cornet. I wait your orders.

Octavio. Remain till evening.

[Cornet signifies his assent and obeisance, and is going.

Octavio. No one saw you—ha? 35

Cornet. No living creature. Through the cloister wicket The Capuchins, as usual, let me in.

Octavio. Go, rest your limbs, and keep yourself concealed. I hold it probable, that yet ere evening I shall dispatch you. The development 40 Of this affair approaches: ere the day, That even now is dawning in the heaven, Ere this eventful day hath set, the lot That must decide our fortunes will be drawn. [Exit Cornet.

LINENOTES:

[9] Sesina 1800, 1828, 1829.

[Before 10] Octavio (eagerly). 1800, 1828, 1829.

SCENE III

OCTAVIO and MAX PICCOLOMINI.

Octavio. Well—and what now, son? All will soon be clear; For all, I'm certain, went through that Sesina.

Max. I will procure me light a shorter way. Farewell.

Octavio. Where now?—Remain here.

Max. To the Duke. 5

Octavio. What——

Max. If thou hast believed that I shall act A part in this thy play—— Thou hast miscalculated on me grievously. My way must be straight on. True with the tongue, 10 False with the heart—I may not, cannot be: Nor can I suffer that a man should trust me— As his friend trust me—and then lull my conscience With such low pleas as these:—'I ask'd him not— He did it all at his own hazard—and 15 My mouth has never lied to him.'—No, no! What a friend takes me for, that I must be. —I'll to the Duke; ere yet this day is ended Will I demand of him that he do save His good name from the world, and with one stride 20 Break through and rend this fine-spun web of yours. He can, he will!—I still am his believer. Yet I'll not pledge myself, but that those letters May furnish you, perchance, with proofs against him. How far may not this Tertsky have proceeded— 25 What may not he himself too have permitted Himself to do, to snare the enemy, The laws of war excusing? Nothing, save His own mouth shall convict him—nothing less! And face to face will I go question him. 30

Octavio. Thou wilt?

Max. I will, as sure as this heart beats.

Octavio. I have, indeed, miscalculated on thee. I calculated on a prudent son, Who would have blest the hand beneficent That plucked him back from the abyss—and lo! 35 A fascinated being I discover, Whom his two eyes befool, whom passion wilders, Whom not the broadest light of noon can heal. Go, question him!—Be mad enough, I pray thee. The purpose of thy father, of thy Emperor, 40 Go, give it up free booty:—Force me, drive me To an open breach before the time. And now, Now that a miracle of heaven had guarded My secret purpose even to this hour, And laid to sleep Suspicion's piercing eyes, 45 Let me have lived to see that mine own son, With frantic enterprise, annihilates My toilsome labours and state-policy.

Max. Aye—this state-policy! O how I curse it! You will some time, with your state-policy, 50 Compel him to the measure: it may happen, Because ye are determined that he is guilty, Guilty ye'll make him. All retreat cut off, You close up every outlet, hem him in Narrower and narrower, till at length ye force him— 55 Yes, ye,—ye force him, in his desperation, To set fire to his prison. Father! Father! That never can end well—it cannot—will not! And let it be decided as it may, I see with boding heart the near approach 60 Of an ill-starred unblest catastrophe. For this great Monarch-spirit, if he fall, Will drag a world into the ruin with him. And as a ship (that midway on the ocean Takes fire) at once, and with a thunder-burst 65 Explodes, and with itself shoots out its crew In smoke and ruin betwixt sea and heaven; So will he, falling, draw down in his fall All us, who're fixed and mortised to his fortune. Deem of it what thou wilt; but pardon me, 70 That I must bear me on in my own way. All must remain pure betwixt him and me; And, ere the day-light dawns, it must be known Which I must lose—my father, or my friend.

[During his exit the curtain drops.

LINENOTES:

[Before 3] Max (who through the whole of the foregoing scene has been in a violent and visible struggle of feelings, at length starts as one resolved). 1800, 1828, 1829.

[Before 6] Octavio (alarmed). 1800, 1828, 1829.

[Before 7] Max (returning). 1800, 1828, 1829.

[14] ask'd] ask 1800, 1828, 1829.

[16] mouth 1800, 1828, 1829.

[22] I 1800, 1828, 1829.

[52] determined 1800, 1828, 1829.

[53] make 1800, 1828, 1829.

[56] ye,—ye force 1800, 1828, 1829.



ACT IV

SCENE I

SCENE—A Room fitted up for astrological Labours, and provided with celestial Charts, with Globes, Telescopes, Quadrants, and other mathematical Instruments.—Seven Colossal Figures, representing the Planets, each with a transparent Star of a different Colour on its Head, stand in a Semi-circle in the Back-ground, so that Mars and Saturn are nearest the Eye.—The remainder of the Scene, and its Disposition, is given in the Fourth Scene of the Second Act.—There must be a Curtain over the Figures, which may be dropped, and conceal them on Occasions.

[In the Fifth Scene of this Act it must be dropped; but in the Seventh Scene, it must be again drawn up wholly or in part.]

WALLENSTEIN at a black Table, on which a Speculum Astrologicum is described with Chalk. SENI is taking Observations through a window.

Wallenstein. All well—and now let it be ended, Seni.—Come, The dawn commences, and Mars rules the hour. We must give o'er the operation. Come, We know enough.

Seni. Your Highness must permit me Just to contemplate Venus. She's now rising: 5 Like as a sun, so shines she in the east.

Wallenstein. She is at present in her perigee, And shoots down now her strongest influences.

[Contemplating the figure on the table.

Auspicious aspect! fateful in conjunction, At length the mighty three corradiate; 10 And the two stars of blessing, Jupiter And Venus, take between them the malignant Slily-malicious Mars, and thus compel Into my service that old mischief-founder; For long he viewed me hostilely, and ever 15 With beam oblique, or perpendicular, Now in the Quartile, now in the Secundan, Shot his red lightnings at my stars, disturbing Their blessed influences and sweet aspects. Now they have conquered the old enemy, 20 And bring him in the heavens a prisoner to me.

Seni (who has come down from the window). And in a corner house, your Highness—think of that! That makes each influence of double strength.

Wallenstein. And sun and moon, too, in the Sextile aspect, The soft light with the vehement—so I love it. 25 Sol is the heart, Luna the head of heaven, Bold be the plan, fiery the execution.

Seni. And both the mighty Lumina by no Maleficus affronted. Lo! Saturnus, Innocuous, powerless, in cadente Domo. 30

Wallenstein. The empire of Saturnus is gone by; Lord of the secret birth of things is he; Within the lap of earth, and in the depths Of the imagination dominates; And his are all things that eschew the light. 35 The time is o'er of brooding and contrivance; For Jupiter, the lustrous, lordeth now, And the dark work, complete of preparation, He draws by force into the realm of light. Now must we hasten on to action, ere 40 The scheme, and most auspicious positure Parts o'er my head, and takes once more its flight; For the heavens journey still, and sojourn not.

[There are knocks at the door.

There's some one knocking there. See who it is.

Tertsky (from without). Open, and let me in.

Wallenstein. Aye—'tis Tertsky. 45 What is there of such urgence? We are busy.

Tertsky (from without). Lay all aside at present, I entreat you. It suffers no delaying.

Wallenstein. Open, Seni!

[While SENI opens the doors for TERTSKY, WALLENSTEIN draws the curtain over the figures.

Tertsky (enters). Hast thou already heard it? He is taken. Galas has given him up to the Emperor. 50

[SENI draws off the black table, and exit.

LINENOTES:

[14] my 1800, 1828, 1829.

[26] SOL . . . LUNA 1800, 1828, 1829.

SCENE II

WALLENSTEIN, COUNT TERTSKY.

Wallenstein (to Tertsky). Who has been taken?—Who is given up?

Tertsky. The man who knows our secrets, who knows every Negotiation with the Swede and Saxon, Through whose hands all and every thing has passed—

Wallenstein (drawing back). Nay, not Sesina?—Say, No! I entreat thee. 5

Tertsky. All on his road for Regenspurg to the Swede He was plunged down upon by Galas' agent, Who had been long in ambush, lurking for him. There must have been found on him my whole packet To Thur, to Kinsky, to Oxenstirn, to Arnheim: 10 All this is in their hands; they have now an insight Into the whole—our measures, and our motives.

SCENE III

To them enters ILLO.

Illo (to Tertsky). Has he heard it?

Tertsky. He has heard it.

Illo (to Wallenstein). Thinkest thou still To make thy peace with the Emperor, to regain His confidence?—E'en were it now thy wish To abandon all thy plans, yet still they know What thou hast wished; then forwards thou must press; 5 Retreat is now no longer in thy power.

Tertsky. They have documents against us, and in hands, Which shew beyond all power of contradiction—

Wallenstein. Of my hand-writing—no iota. Thee I punish for thy lies.

Illo. And thou believest, 10 That what this man, that what thy sister's husband, Did in thy name, will not stand on thy reck'ning? His word must pass for thy word with the Swede, And not with those that hate thee at Vienna.

Tertsky. In writing thou gav'st nothing—But bethink thee, 15 How far thou ventured'st by word of mouth With this Sesina? And will he be silent? If he can save himself by yielding up Thy secret purposes, will he retain them?

Illo. Thyself dost not conceive it possible; 20 And since they now have evidence authentic How far thou hast already gone, speak!—tell us, What art thou waiting for? thou canst no longer Keep thy command; and beyond hope of rescue Thou'rt lost, if thou resign'st it.

Wallenstein. In the army 25 Lies my security. The army will not Abandon me. Whatever they may know, The power is mine, and they must gulp it down— And substitute I caution for my fealty, They must be satisfied, at least appear so. 30

Illo. The army, Duke, is thine now—for this moment— 'Tis thine: but think with terror on the slow, The quiet power of time. From open violence The attachment of thy soldiery secures thee To-day—to-morrow; but grant'st thou them a respite, 35 Unheard, unseen, they'll undermine that love On which thou now dost feel so firm a footing, With wily theft will draw away from thee One after the other——

Wallenstein. 'Tis a cursd accident!

Illo. O, I will call it a most blessed one, 40 If it work on thee as it ought to do, Hurry thee on to action—to decision. The Swedish General——

Wallenstein. He's arrived! Know'st thou What his commission is——

Illo. To thee alone Will he entrust the purpose of his coming. 45

Wallenstein. A cursd, cursd accident! Yes, yes, Sesina knows too much, and won't be silent.

Tertsky. He's a Bohemian fugitive and rebel, His neck is forfeit. Can he save himself At thy cost, think you he will scruple it? 50 And if they put him to the torture, will he, Will he, that dastardling, have strength enough——

Wallenstein. Their confidence is lost—irreparably! And I may act what way I will, I shall Be and remain for ever in their thought 55 A traitor to my country. How sincerely Soever I return back to my duty, It will no longer help me——

Illo. Ruin thee, That it will do! Not thy fidelity, Thy weakness will be deemed the sole occasion—— 60

Wallenstein. What! I must realize it now in earnest, Because I toy'd too freely with the thought? Accursd he who dallies with a devil! And must I—I must realize it now— Now, while I have the power, it must take place? 65

Illo. Now—now—ere they can ward and parry it!

Wallenstein (looking at the paper of signatures). I have the Generals' word—a written promise! Max Piccolomini stands not here—how's that?

Tertsky. It was——he fancied——

Illo. Mere self-willedness. There needed no such thing 'twixt him and you. 70

Wallenstein. He is quite right—there needeth no such thing. The regiments, too, deny to march for Flanders— Have sent me in a paper of remonstrance, And openly resist the Imperial orders. The first step to revolt's already taken. 75

Illo. Believe me, thou wilt find it far more easy To lead them over to the enemy Than to the Spaniard.

Wallenstein. I will hear, however, What the Swede has to say to me.

Illo (to Tertsky). Go, call him! He stands without the door in waiting.

Wallenstein. Stay! 80 Stay yet a little. It hath taken me All by surprise,—it came too quick upon me; 'Tis wholly novel, that an accident, With its dark lordship, and blind agency, Should force me on with it.

Illo. First hear him only, 85 And after weigh it. [Exeunt TERTSKY and ILLO.

LINENOTES:

[13] His 1800, 1828, 1829.

[31] is 1800, 1828, 1829.

[52] he 1800, 1828, 1829.

[Before 53] Wallenstein (lost in thought). 1800, 1828, 1829.

[Before 61] Wallenstein (pacing up and down in extreme agitation). 1800, 1828, 1829.

[64] I must 1800, 1828, 1829.

[65] must 1800, 1828, 1829.

[79] Illo (eagerly to Tertsky). 1800, 1828, 1829.

SCENE IV

Wallenstein. Is it possible? Is't so? I can no longer what I would? No longer draw back at my liking? I Must do the deed, because I thought of it, And fed this heart here with a dream? Because 5 I did not scowl temptation from my presence, Dallied with thoughts of possible fulfilment, Commenced no movement, left all time uncertain, And only kept the road, the access open? By the great God of Heaven! it was not 10 My serious meaning, it was ne'er resolve. I but amused myself with thinking of it. The free-will tempted me, the power to do Or not to do it.—Was it criminal To make the fancy minister to hope, 15 To fill the air with pretty toys of air, And clutch fantastic sceptres moving t'ward me? Was not the will kept free? Beheld I not The road of duty close beside me—but One little step, and once more I was in it! 20 Where am I? Whither have I been transported? No road, no track behind me, but a wall, Impenetrable, insurmountable, Rises obedient to the spells I muttered And meant not—my own doings tower behind me. 25 A punishable man I seem, the guilt, Try what I will, I cannot roll off from me; The equivocal demeanour of my life Bears witness on my prosecutor's party; And even my purest acts from purest motives 30 Suspicion poisons with malicious gloss. Were I that thing, for which I pass, that traitor, A goodly outside I had sure reserved, Had drawn the coverings thick and double round me, Been calm and chary of my utterance. 35 But being conscious of the innocence Of my intent, my uncorrupted will, I gave way to my humours, to my passion: Bold were my words, because my deeds were not. Now every planless measure, chance event, 40 The threat of rage, the vaunt of joy and triumph, And all the May-games of a heart o'erflowing, Will they connect, and weave them all together Into one web of treason; all will be plan, My eye ne'er absent from the far-off mark, 45 Step tracing step, each step a politic progress; And out of all they'll fabricate a charge So specious, that I must myself stand dumb. I am caught in my own net, and only force, Naught but a sudden rent can liberate me. 50 How else! since that the heart's unbiass'd instinct Impelled me to the daring deed, which now Necessity, self-preservation, orders. Stern is the On-look of Necessity, Not without shudder many a human hand 55 Grasps the mysterious urn of destiny. My deed was mine, remaining in my bosom, Once suffered to escape from its safe corner Within the heart, its nursery and birthplace, Sent forth into the Foreign, it belongs 60 For ever to those sly malicious powers Whom never art of man conciliated. What is thy enterprize? thy aim? thy object? Hast honestly confessed it to thyself? Power seated on a quiet throne thou'dst shake, 65 Power on an ancient consecrated throne, Strong in possession, founded in old custom; Power by a thousand tough and stringy roots Fixed to the people's pious nursery-faith. This, this will be no strife of strength with strength. 70 That feared I not. I brave each combatant, Whom I can look on, fixing eye to eye, Who full himself of courage kindles courage In me too. 'Tis a foe invisible, The which I fear—a fearful enemy, 75 Which in the human heart opposes me, By its coward fear alone made fearful to me. Not that, which full of life, instinct with power, Makes known its present being, that is not The true, the perilously formidable. 80 O no! it is the common, the quite common, The thing of an eternal yesterday, What ever was, and evermore returns, Sterling to-morrow, for to-day 'twas sterling! For of the wholly common is man made, 85 And custom is his nurse! Woe then to them, Who lay irreverent hands upon his old House furniture, the dear inheritance From his forefathers. For time consecrates; And what is grey with age becomes religion. 90 Be in possession, and thou hast the right, And sacred will the many guard it for thee!

[To the Page, who here enters.

The Swedish officer?—Well, let him enter.

[The Page exit, WALLENSTEIN fixes his eye in deep thought on the door.

Yet is it pure—as yet!—the crime has come Not o'er this threshold yet—so slender is 95 The boundary that divideth life's two paths.

LINENOTES:

[Before 1] Wallenstein (in soliloquy). 1800, 1828, 1829.

[2] can . . . would 1800, 1828, 1829.

[4] do . . . thought 1800, 1828, 1829.

[After 25] [Pauses and remains in deep thought. 1800, 1828, 1829.

[39] not 1800, 1828, 1829.

[48] dumb 1800.

[50] rent 1800.

[After 50] [Pauses again. 1800, 1828, 1829.

[53] orders 1800, 1828, 1829.

[55] many] may 1800, 1828, 1829.

[56] Grasps] Grasp 1800, 1828, 1829.

[After 62] [Paces in agitation through the chamber, then pauses, and, after the pause, breaks out again into audible soliloquy. 1800, 1828, 1829.

SCENE V

WALLENSTEIN and WRANGEL.

Wallenstein. Your name is Wrangel?

Wrangel. Gustave Wrangel, General Of the Sudermanian Blues.

Wallenstein. It was a Wrangel Who injured me materially at Stralsund, And by his brave resistance was the cause Of the opposition which that sea-port made. 5

Wrangel. It was the doing of the element With which you fought, my Lord! and not my merit. The Baltic Neptune did assert his freedom, The sea and land, it seemed, were not to serve One and the same.

Wallenstein (makes a motion for him to take a seat, and seats himself). And where are your credentials? 10 Come you provided with full powers, Sir General?

Wrangel. There are so many scruples yet to solve——

Wallenstein (having read the credentials). An able letter!—Ay—he is a prudent, Intelligent master, whom you serve, Sir General! The Chancellor writes me, that he but fulfils 15 His late departed Sovereign's own idea In helping me to the Bohemian crown.

Wrangel. He says the truth. Our great King, now in heaven, Did ever deem most highly of your Grace's Pre-eminent sense and military genius; 20 And always the commanding Intellect, He said, should have command, and be the King.

Wallenstein. Yes, he might say it safely.—General Wrangel,

[Taking his hand.

Come, fair and open—Trust me, I was always A Swede at heart. Ey! that did you experience 25 Both in Silesia and at Nuremburg; I had you often in my power, and let you Always slip out by some back door or other. 'Tis this for which the Court can ne'er forgive me, Which drives me to this present step: and since 30 Our interests so run in one direction, E'en let us have a thorough confidence Each in the other.

Wrangel. Confidence will come Has each but only first security.

Wallenstein. The Chancellor still, I see, does not quite trust me; 35 And, I confess—the gain does not wholly lie To my advantage—Without doubt he thinks If I can play false with the Emperor, Who is my Sov'reign, I can do the like With the enemy, and that the one too were 40 Sooner to be forgiven me than the other. Is not this your opinion too, Sir General?

Wrangel. I have here an office merely, no opinion.

Wallenstein. The Emperor hath urged me to the uttermost. I can no longer honourably serve him. 45 For my security, in self-defence, I take this hard step, which my conscience blames.

Wrangel. That I believe. So far would no one go Who was not forced to it. [After a pause. What may have impelled Your princely Highness in this wise to act 50 Toward your Sovereign Lord and Emperor, Beseems not us to expound or criticize. The Swede is fighting for his good old cause. With his good sword and conscience. This concurrence, This opportunity, is in our favour, 55 And all advantages in war are lawful. We take what offers without questioning; And if all have its due and just proportions——

Wallenstein. Of what then are ye doubting? Of my will? Or of my power? I pledged me to the Chancellor, 60 Would he trust me with sixteen thousand men, That I would instantly go over to them With eighteen thousand of the Emperor's troops.

Wrangel. Your Grace is known to be a mighty war-chief, To be a second Attila and Pyrrhus. 65 'Tis talked of still with fresh astonishment, How some years past, beyond all human faith, You called an army forth, like a creation: But yet——

Wallenstein. But yet?

Wrangel. But still the Chancellor thinks, It might yet be an easier thing from nothing 70 To call forth sixty thousand men of battle, Than to persuade one sixtieth part of them—

Wallenstein. What now? Out with it, friend!

Wrangel. To break their oaths.

Wallenstein. And he thinks so?—He judges like a Swede, And like a Protestant. You Lutherans 75 Fight for your Bible. You are interested About the cause; and with your hearts you follow Your banners.—Among you, whoe'er deserts To the enemy, hath broken covenant With two Lords at one time.—We've no such fancies. 80

Wrangel. Great God in Heaven! Have then the people here No house and home, no fire-side, no altar?

Wallenstein. I will explain that to you, how it stands— The Austrian has a country, ay, and loves it, And has good cause to love it—but this army, 85 That calls itself the Imperial, this that houses Here in Bohemia, this has none—no country; This is an outcast of all foreign lands, Unclaimed by town or tribe, to whom belongs Nothing, except the universal sun. 90

Wrangel. But then the Nobles and the Officers? Such a desertion, such a felony, It is without example, my Lord Duke, In the world's history.

Wallenstein. They are all mine— Mine unconditionally—mine on all terms. 95 Not me, your own eyes you must trust.

[He gives him the paper containing the written oath. WRANGEL reads it through, and, having read it, lays it on the table, remaining silent.

So then? Now comprehend you?

Wrangel. Comprehend who can! My Lord Duke; I will let the mask drop—yes! I've full powers for a final settlement. The Rhinegrave stands but four days' march from here 100 With fifteen thousand men, and only waits For orders to proceed and join your army. Those orders I give out, immediately We're compromised.

Wallenstein. What asks the Chancellor?

Wrangel. Twelve Regiments, every man a Swede—my head 105 The warranty—and all might prove at last Only false play——

Wallenstein (starting). Sir Swede!

Wrangel. Am therefore forced T' insist thereon, that he do formally, Irrevocably break with the Emperor, Else not a Swede is trusted to Duke Friedland. 110

Wallenstein. Come, brief and open! What is the demand?

Wrangel. That he forthwith disarm the Spanish regiments Attached to the Emperor, that he seize Prague, And to the Swedes give up that city, with The strong pass Egra.

Wallenstein. That is much indeed! 115 Prague!—Egra's granted—But—but Prague!—'Twon't do. I give you every security Which you may ask of me in common reason— But Prague—Bohemia—these, Sir General, I can myself protect.

Wrangel. We doubt it not. 120 But 'tis not the protection that is now Our sole concern. We want security, That we shall not expend our men and money All to no purpose.

Wallenstein. 'Tis but reasonable.

Wrangel. And till we are indemnified, so long 125 Stays Prague in pledge.

Wallenstein. Then trust you us so little?

Wrangel (rising). The Swede, if he would treat well with the German, Must keep a sharp look-out. We have been called Over the Baltic, we have saved the empire From ruin—with our best blood have we seal'd 130 The liberty of faith, and gospel truth. But now already is the benefaction No longer felt, the load alone is felt.—— Ye look askance with evil eye upon us, As foreigners, intruders in the empire, 135 And would fain send us, with some paltry sum Of money, home again to our old forests. No, no! my Lord Duke! no!—it never was For Judas' pay, for chinking gold and silver, That we did leave our King by the Great Stone.[696:1] 140 No, not for gold and silver have there bled So many of our Swedish Nobles—neither Will we, with empty laurels for our payment, Hoist sail for our own country. Citizens Will we remain upon the soil, the which 145 Our Monarch conquered for himself, and died.

Wallenstein. Help to keep down the common enemy, And the fair border land must needs be yours.

Wrangel. But when the common enemy lies vanquished, Who knits together our new friendship then? 150 We know, Duke Friedland! though perhaps the Swede Ought not t' have known it, that you carry on Secret negotiations with the Saxons. Who is our warranty, that we are not The sacrifices in those articles 155 Which 'tis thought needful to conceal from us?

Wallenstein (rises). Think you of something better, Gustave Wrangel! Of Prague no more.

Wrangel. Here my commission ends.

Wallenstein. Surrender up to you my capital! Far liever would I face about, and step 160 Back to my Emperor.

Wrangel. If time yet permits——

Wallenstein. That lies with me, even now, at any hour.

Wrangel. Some days ago, perhaps. To-day, no longer, No longer since Sesina is a prisoner. My Lord Duke, hear me—We believe that you 165 At present do mean honourably by us. Since yesterday we're sure of that—and now This paper warrants for the troops, there's nothing Stands in the way of our full confidence. Prague shall not part us. Hear! The Chancellor 170 Contents himself with Albstadt, to your Grace He gives up Ratschin and the narrow side, But Egra above all must open to us, Ere we can think of any junction.

Wallenstein. You, You therefore must I trust, and you not me? 175 I will consider of your proposition.

Wrangel. I must entreat, that your consideration Occupy not too long a time. Already Has this negotiation, my Lord Duke! Crept on into the second year. If nothing 180 Is settled this time, will the Chancellor Consider it as broken off for ever.

Wallenstein. Ye press me hard. A measure, such as this, Ought to be thought of.

Wrangel. Ay! but think of this too, That sudden action only can procure it 185 Success—think first of this, your Highness. [Exit WRANGEL.

FOOTNOTES:

[696:1] A great stone near Ltzen, since called the Swede's Stone, the body of their great King having been found at the foot of it, after the battle in which he lost his life.

LINENOTES:

[Before 1] Wallenstein (after having fixed a searching look on him). 1800, 1828, 1829.

[Before 10] Wallenstein (makes the motion, &c. 1800, 1828, 1829.

[23] might 1800, 1828, 1829.

[After 23] [Taking his hand affectionately. 1800, 1828, 1829.

[36] wholly lie] lie wholly 1828, 1829.

[40] the one 1800, 1828, 1829.

[41] other 1800, 1828, 1829.

[61] me 1800, 1828, 1829.

[74] so 1800, 1828, 1829.

[77] hearts 1800, 1828, 1829.

[78] you 1800, 1828, 1829.

[84] has 1800, 1828, 1829.

[96] must] may 1800, 1828, 1829.

[103] I 1800, 1828, 1829. out] you 1828, 1829.

[Before 105] Wrangel (considerately). 1800, 1828, 1829.

[107] Wrangel (calmly proceeding). 1800, 1828, 1829.

[144] Citizens 1800, 1828, 1829.

[154] we 1800, 1828, 1829.

[164] Sesina is] Sesina's been 1800, 1828, 1829.

[After 164] [Wallenstein is struck, and silenced. 1800, 1828, 1829.

[167] yesterday 1800, 1828, 1829.

[184] thought 1800, 1828, 1829.

SCENE VI

WALLENSTEIN, TERTSKY, and ILLO (re-enter).

Illo. Is't all right?

Tertsky. Are you compromised?

Illo. This Swede Went smiling from you. Yes! you're compromised.

Wallenstein. As yet is nothing settled: and (well weighed) I feel myself inclined to leave it so.

Tertsky. How? What is that?

Wallenstein. Come on me what will come, 5 The doing evil to avoid an evil Cannot be good!

Tertsky. Nay, but bethink you, Duke?

Wallenstein. To live upon the mercy of these Swedes! Of these proud-hearted Swedes! I could not bear it.

Illo. Goest thou as fugitive, as mendicant? 10 Bringest thou not more to them than thou receivest?

LINENOTES:

[10] Wallenstein (sarcastically). 1800, 1828, 1829.

[11] Countess (to the others). 1800, 1828, 1829.

SCENE VII

To these enter the COUNTESS TERTSKY.

Wallenstein. Who sent for you? There is no business here For women.

Countess. I am come to bid you joy.

Wallenstein. Use thy authority, Tertsky, bid her go.

Countess. Come I perhaps too early? I hope not.

Wallenstein. Set not this tongue upon me, I entreat you. 5 You know it is the weapon that destroys me. I am routed, if a woman but attack me. I cannot traffic in the trade of words With that unreasoning sex.

Countess. I had already Given the Bohemians a king.

Wallenstein. They have one, 10 In consequence, no doubt.

Countess. Ha! what new scruple?

Tertsky. The Duke will not.

Countess. He will not what he must!

Illo. It lies with you now. Try. For I am silenced, When folks begin to talk to me of conscience, And of fidelity.

Countess. How? then, when all 15 Lay in the far-off distance, when the road Stretched out before thine eyes interminably, Then hadst thou courage and resolve; and now, Now that the dream is being realized, The purpose ripe, the issue ascertained, 20 Dost thou begin to play the dastard now? Planned merely, 'tis a common felony; Accomplished, an immortal undertaking: And with success comes pardon hand in hand; For all event is God's arbitrement. 25

Servant (enters). The Colonel Piccolomini.

Countess. —Must wait.

Wallenstein. I cannot see him now. Another time.

Servant. But for two minutes he entreats an audience. Of the most urgent nature is his business.

Wallenstein. Who knows what he may bring us? I will hear him. 30

Countess. Urgent for him, no doubt; but thou mayest wait.

Wallenstein. What is it?

Countess. Thou shalt be informed hereafter. First let the Swede and thee be compromised. [Exit Servant.

Wallenstein. If there were yet a choice! if yet some milder Way of escape were possible—I still 35 Will choose it, and avoid the last extreme.

Countess. Desir'st thou nothing further? Such a way Lies still before thee. Send this Wrangel off. Forget thou thy old hopes, cast far away All thy past life; determine to commence 40 A new one. Virtue hath her heroes too, As well as Fame and Fortune.—To Vienna— Hence—to the Emperor—kneel before the throne; Take a full coffer with thee—say aloud, Thou did'st but wish to prove thy fealty; 45 Thy whole intention but to dupe the Swede.

Illo. For that too 'tis too late. They know too much. He would but bear his own head to the block.

Countess. I fear not that. They have not evidence To attaint him legally, and they avoid 50 The avowal of an arbitrary power. They'll let the Duke resign without disturbance. I see how all will end. The King of Hungary Makes his appearance, and 'twill of itself Be understood, that then the Duke retires. 55 There will not want a formal declaration. The young King will administer the oath To the whole army; and so all returns To the old position. On some morrow morning The Duke departs; and now 'tis stir and bustle 60 Within his castles. He will hunt, and build, Superintend his horses' pedigrees; Creates himself a court, gives golden keys, And introduceth strictest ceremony In fine proportions, and nice etiquette; 65 Keeps open table with high cheer; in brief, Commenceth mighty King—in miniature. And while he prudently demeans himself, And gives himself no actual importance, He will be let appear whate'er he likes; 70 And who dares doubt, that Friedland will appear A mighty Prince to his last dying hour? Well now, what then? Duke Friedland is as others, A fire-new Noble, whom the war hath raised To price and currency, a Jonah's Gourd, 75 An over-night creation of court-favour, Which with an undistinguishable ease Makes Baron or makes Prince.

Wallenstein. Take her away. Let in the young Count Piccolomini.

Countess. Art thou in earnest? I entreat thee! Canst thou 80 Consent to bear thyself to thy own grave, So ignominiously to be dried up? Thy life, that arrogated such a height To end in such a nothing! To be nothing, When one was always nothing, is an evil 85 That asks no stretch of patience, a light evil, But to become a nothing, having been——

Wallenstein (starts up). Shew me a way out of this stifling crowd, Ye Powers of Aidance! Shew me such a way As I am capable of going.—I 90 Am no tongue-hero, no fine virtue-prattler; I cannot warm by thinking; cannot say To the good luck that turns her back upon me, Magnanimously: 'Go! I need thee not.' Cease I to work, I am annihilated, 95 Dangers nor sacrifices will I shun, If so I may avoid the last extreme; But ere I sink down into nothingness, Leave off so little, who began so great, Ere that the world confuses me with those 100 Poor wretches, whom a day creates and crumbles, This age and after-ages[701:1] speak my name With hate and dread; and Friedland be redemption For each accursd deed!

Countess. What is there here, then, So against nature? Help me to perceive it! 105 O let not Superstition's nightly goblins Subdue thy clear bright spirit! Art thou bid To murder?—with abhorr'd accursd poniard, To violate the breasts that nourished thee? That were against our nature, that might aptly 110 Make thy flesh shudder, and thy whole heart sicken.[701:2] Yet not a few, and for a meaner object, Have ventured even this, ay, and performed it. What is there in thy case so black and monstrous? Thou art accused of treason—whether with 115 Or without justice is not now the question— Thou art lost if thou dost not avail thee quickly Of the power which thou possessest—Friedland! Duke! Tell me, where lives that thing so meek and tame, That doth not all his living faculties 120 Put forth in preservation of his life? What deed so daring, which necessity And desperation will not sanctify?

Wallenstein. Once was this Ferdinand so gracious to me: He loved me; he esteemed me; I was placed 125 The nearest to his heart. Full many a time We like familiar friends, both at one table, Have banquetted together. He and I— And the young kings themselves held me the bason Wherewith to wash me—and is't come to this? 130

Countess. So faithfully preserv'st thou each small favour, And hast no memory for contumelies? Must I remind thee, how at Regenspurg This man repaid thy faithful services? All ranks and all conditions in the Empire 135 Thou hadst wronged, to make him great,—hadst loaded on thee, On thee, the hate, the curse of the whole world. No friend existed for thee in all Germany, And why? because thou hadst existed only For the Emperor. To the Emperor alone 140 Clung Friedland in that storm which gathered round him At Regenspurg in the Diet—and he dropped thee! He let thee fall! He let thee fall a victim To the Bavarian, to that insolent! Deposed, stript bare of all thy dignity 145 And power, amid the taunting of thy foes, Thou wert let drop into obscurity.— Say not, the restoration of thy honour Hath made atonement for that first injustice. No honest good-will was it that replaced thee, 150 The law of hard necessity replaced thee, Which they had fain opposed, but that they could not.

Wallenstein. Not to their good wishes, that is certain, Nor yet to his affection I'm indebted For this high office; and if I abuse it, 155 I shall therein abuse no confidence.

Countess. Affection! confidence!—They needed thee. Necessity, impetuous remonstrant! Who not with empty names, or shews of proxy, Is served, who'll have the thing and not the symbol, 160 Ever seeks out the greatest and the best, And at the rudder places him, e'en though She had been forced to take him from the rabble— She, this Necessity, it was that placed thee In this high office, it was she that gave thee 165 Thy letters patent of inauguration. For, to the uttermost moment that they can. This race still help themselves at cheapest rate With slavish souls, with puppets! At the approach Of extreme peril, when a hollow image 170 Is found a hollow image and no more, Then falls the power into the mighty hands Of Nature, of the spirit giant-born, Who listens only to himself, knows nothing Of stipulations, duties, reverences 175 And, like the emancipated force of fire, Unmastered scorches, ere it reaches them, Their fine-spun webs, their artificial policy.

Wallenstein. 'Tis true! they saw me always as I am— Always! I did not cheat them in the bargain. 180 I never held it worth my pains to hide The bold all-grasping habit of my soul.

Countess. Nay rather—thou hast ever shewn thyself A formidable man, without restraint; Hast exercised the full prerogatives 185 Of thy impetuous nature, which had been Once granted to thee. Therefore, Duke, not thou, Who hast still remained consistent with thyself, But they are in the wrong, who fearing thee, Entrusted such a power in hands they feared. 190 For, by the laws of Spirit, in the right Is every individual character That acts in strict consistence with itself. Self-contradiction is the only wrong. Wert thou another being, then, when thou 195 Eight years ago pursuedst thy march with fire And sword, and desolation, through the Circles Of Germany, the universal scourge, Didst mock all ordinances of the empire, The fearful rights of strength alone exertedst, 200 Trampledst to earth each rank, each magistracy, All to extend thy Sultan's domination? Then was the time to break thee in, to curb Thy haughty will, to teach thee ordinance. But no! the Emperor felt no touch of conscience, 205 What served him pleased him, and without a murmur He stamped his broad seal on these lawless deeds. What at that time was right, because thou didst it For him, to-day is all at once become Opprobrious, foul, because it is directed 210 Against him.—O most flimsy superstition!